One week in site

September 12, 2014

After spending one week in my site I have a better understanding of what the next two years will be like.

I have no electricity and no cell phone reception.

I have a 45 minute hike, and a two and a half hour chiva ride to get to the nearest decently sized city. (A chiva can be a type of mini-bus, but the ones going to my site are pick-up trucks with revamped beds that have a cover, two benches, and a door on the back.)

My site is absolutely beautiful.

The houses are very spread out. From my host family’s house I can only see green rolling mountains and clouds. I also can only hear the sound of birds chirping, the river down below, and the occasional giggle from my host siblings or the music on the radio. It is very peaceful here.

From sitting on my front porch I have seen toucans and what I believe to be green macaws (or some sort of marvelous green and blue parrot) fly by. And in this moment I am actually watching a sloth, hanging upside down in a tree, cleaning its face.

It is cloudy here about 90% of time and because we are up in the mountains, the temperature is nice and cool. I wear leggings and a sweatshirt at night because I’m cold. (never did I think I would say the words “I’m cold” in Panama.)

My host siblings are very curious and shy (a girl almost 9 and a boy 7). They don’t talk a lot to me yet, they mostly just stare. (They are both standing over my shoulder watching me type this...) All the people in my community are very reserved and soft spoken. They don’t speak a lot, and when they do it is very quiet.

I wake up around 6am to the wonderful (noT) alarm clock that is a rooster right outside my room. This is also about the time it gets light out. After breakfast I am led to a house in the community by either my host mother or host father (who is also my community guide). We usually sit in awkward silence while I occasionally ask questions about their family structure and what they grow on their farm. After about a week the long pauses of no one talking (which is normal here) is beginning to feel less awkward to me. We come home and eat lunch and I then usually spend my afternoon staring out at the rainforest watching the clouds dance among the treetops.

 

The view from my porch

Other side of my host family's house

a pop of yellow in a sea of green