Last night's noisy visitor

There was a gnawing sound coming from the end of our porch last night.

We took the flashlights and cautiously approached.

We listened.

We finally heard the sound, coming from between us.

In the pile of split bamboo, waiting to become a wall.

Carefully, I pulled pieces of the pile away, wondering if I would reveal the world's largest scorpion or some other creepy-crawly.

Finally, it appeared!

(blue-orange crab in bamboo slats on our porch)

Later, we heard a noise in the back room, a scratching on the plastic 5 gallon barrels we store drygoods in. And sure enough, he'd made his way in there. I chased him out and off the porch, hoping he'll dig a hole away from the house (and hoping our neighbors don't catch him too quickly).

It is odd, the crabs really went away during the summer/dry season (January thru March), but the rain restarted this week, and it seems almost immediately, they've returned. We've found smaller ones walking around the floor and up on the shower walls. I'm not sure why they are so attuned to the rains, but ones like this at least are a colorful addition when the days go grayer, even if they can be a scary addition in the darker nights.

First Time out of Santiago

Last week, I took our 15-year-old neighbor to another volunteer's site to work on an estufa lorena junta. It was his first time outside of Santiago (our provincial capital) and in fact, his first time to even spend the night there. It was also his first time in the mountains, even though there are others only about an hour bus ride north of Santiago.

We caught a bus out of Santiago heading east for the three-hour ride and I gave him the window seat. I could remember my first ride across Panamá, and even having watched out the window as the American Mid-West, the Red Center of Australia, central Europe, and Patagonian Chile had rolled past, it was still exciting, everything new. I can only imagine his thoughts as he watched huge fields of sugar cane zip by; the mountains slowly approach, grow large, and then recede behind us; and he saw his country, beyond the one hour small-bus trip from port to Santiago, for the first time. At one point, he hit my arm and pointed. "Look at that river!" I didn't think it huge, but it was probably twice as wide as any other he'd seen.

The other volunteer, who lives in the mountains, with a beautiful view, was working with her

community members to build six estufas in six days. While there, we stayed in her house and he got the chance to chat with other Americans and a broader view of who we are (and how well we speaking Spanish) than just April and I can provide. During the day, we worked with about ten of her community members on sifting and mixing materials (soil, sand, and estericol - horse poo), building the form, packing the mix, and then carving out the stove. Throughout the junta, he got the chance to talk with other Panamanians and learn how similar and different life is in other parts of his country.

(Julian on the point just outside Steph's house, with El Valle lost in the clouds behind the rock spire)

(Julian carving out the mouth of the stove; the first "burner" is beginning to take shape on top)

We worked on two of the estufas, then returned to Santiago for the night before catching an early bus to the port for a ride back to the island. Unable to find anyone in town to stay with, we ended up at the hotel that April and I usually stay in. I was afraid it would give him an impression that we have a lot of money (and compared to his family, we do), but I figured a "fancy" night out would be okay - hot water shower, cable TV.

Ironically, when I told him how many more channels were on this TV than the small B&W in his house, he changed the channel once, and stopped on a basketball game. From the US. With the original English commentary.

After a few minutes of talking over the game (which the channel had switched to baseball, still in English), he asked if it was dark out. I said yes, and asked if he had seen the city in the dark. He hadn't, so we went for a walk. I'm not sure it was what he expected - loud and dusty, relative to the island. We did stop in the supermarket, which he'd never visited, and saw toys, clothes, and food that was all new, and bought some apples.

I hope I didn't overwhelm him, I hope I didn't show him a life he becomes jealous of, but I hope I did show him some of what else is available out there in the world, beyond the island, beyond Santiago, and how much there is that is different, but also how wonderful, how familiar, how beautiful, it can be.

Easter

(Kevin here, although April uploaded the pictures first, so the post is attributed to her.)

We are aware that Easter passed a few weeks ago, but sometimes it isn't easy to get time on-line to post right away. So here is Easter in the island.

Similar to Christmas and New Years, it wasn't what we expected. It seemed nobody did much to observe Easter Sunday (there was no mass on the island), but I was nailing together our bambu wall on Good Friday, and a neighbor came by and after a few minutes of kind chit-chat, mentioned that they don't work, cook, ride horses, or anything on Good Friday. I got the distinct impression I should cease making a racket. But it was nothing like a Good Friday observance I'd ever heard of from the Catholic church.

Sundays are our English class days, but we asked some of our main attendees ahead of time if we should skip class on Easter Sunday. She said pretty much no, of course not, why would you?

So we decided it was a good time to teach colors.

Mom Cropper had sent along some egg-dying kits, and we shared some American culture with those who came to class that day, trying to explain in Spanish what a rabbit has to do with chocolate, eggs, fake plastic grass, and coloring the eggs. (We totally omitted what it might have to do with Christ's resurection.)

Using a solar-heater for the water (putting a Camelback in the sun) and a bit of vinegar purchased specially for the purpose, we managed to produce some impressive dyes.

(Looking down on the dying cups, eggs, and dyers)

Unfortunately, we had been at a 15th birthday party the night before on the south side of the island (the 15th is a huge deal here, almost like Sweet Sixteen I guess), so we hadn't had time to boil the eggs.

There was only one causualty, one that was fully decorated around the outside with crayon. But we had one more spare, and she was able to redraw her masterpiece and go home happy.

(Some finished, some still being drawn upon)

Oh, and we did manage to teach the colors (mostly; there must have been some confusion about which dye was which when the one on the left labeled "blue" was dipped, but the "Blue" on the right is right on).