Minute Man and the Milky Way

After April left on Sunday, I spent Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday hiking around the island getting papers filled out for site development for a follow-on PCV, pasear-ing (just chatting) with folks after the health fair, and trying to find a ride out for Thursday. I was successful on the first two. But the only ride I heard about for Thursday was with Efrain, my original guia (guide), who lives on the far side of the island. Since it was about a two and a half hour hike to go see him, I called instead, but had to leave messages. I didn't hear anything until Wednesday evening around 6. Efrain was going out, leaving in the madrugada (middle of the night) with some family who was visiting (it is still summer/dry season here and school is still out), but was willing to swing by our house to pick me up. Around 4am he said. I had a ride!

So I got the house ready for leaving, putting the parts of the kitchen (which is outside) in the back room, pouring out the pee container, burning the toilet paper, and taking down all but one of the hammocks. I set the alarm for 3:36am, which would give me more than enough time to get dressed, drink a glass of water, grab some bread, tie up the trash bag to carry out, and sit in the hammock to await the sound of a boat (while Efrain may be fairly timely, we've learned to be patient awaiting rides out, especially in the madrugada; the hammocks go away in the morning). And I went to bed.

"¡KEVIN!"

Huh?

"¡KEVIN!, ¿esta listo?"

OH MY GOSH, I must not have heard my watch alarm! Nor my phone alarm?

"Si Efrain. Uno momento."

What time is it? Wait, it is 3:32am! He's early!

So I hopped up, pulled on my clothes, grabbed my bag, stuck the water filter in the back room, and left the trash and the hammock; Efrain was ready to get back in the boat. My watch alarm to wake up went off as we were pulling out of our cove. I felt like a Minute Man.

But a two hour ride to port starting at 3:30am can be beautiful. There are no lights along the Gulf (it is a RAMSAR Treaty Protected Wetlands Area) and the view of the stars can be amazing. Although there was a stretch where I thought at first that it must have been cloudy, since the stars were almost blurry and the background was greyer / less black. But over the course of the entire ride, that section of "clouds" never moved. I realized this was a different, early morning, section of the Milky Way from the more distinct stars-on-a-whiteish-background portion we can see in the evening, when we more commonly are out looking up at the stars. (My reaction reminded me of Barack Obama's similar description of watching what he initially thought were unmoving clouds over stars while in Kenya in Dreams From My Father, which I'd initially scoffed at, "knowing" what the clear whiter stretch of the evening night sky was.)

That amazing section of the Milky Way and the other constellations and the several shooting stars visible in the vast expanse of sky were also reflected on the mirror smooth water ahead of our wake. Despite the early hour, I kept my watch, like a Minute Man soldier of old, on the ever constant yet ever intriguing view of a clear star-filled night sky free of light pollution.

New Latrine at the School

The Padres de Familia group at the school recently took the initiative to dig a new pit and build a new cement block latrine at the school. Here is the not-quite-finished result.

Here is why they needed to build it.

The old one was apparently 40 years old, built when the school was in 1967. Because there are fewer students today, they only built two stalls instead of three (one of the old ones was just a shower). Luckily, no one was inside when the old one collapsed. The guy on top is removing the screws from the old roof so they can put it on the new building.

A pretty impressive planning and implementation effort for the Padres de Familia, who didn't feel like waiting for MEDUCA (Ministry of Education) to help fix the issue.

Boat Progress - Painting, roof, tools

If you've been waiting for an update on Pedro's progress constructing the boat, well, not too much has been happening lately. They are waiting on some more wood to dry we heard. But a few changes happened in the past few months. (BTW, this is a different Pedro from the cattleman who went to the demo farm with me.)

(Pedro working on the sides of the boat)

If you recall the last photo, there were still some boards missing on the sides. Now Pedro has put the sides together, along with most of the top.

(This is most of the tools he's using: a saw, a hammer, a plane, a couple of clamps)

Alex (who did go to the demo farm with me) is the one paying for the boat to be made, and he and his family have been a part of the process too.

(Alex, his wife, and daughter, painting the inside of the boat; supposedly they just didn't have enough of any one color to do it all.)

I can't figure out why they painted the floor, because if he is going to put cattle in it, normally there is a floor of boards over the bottom.

(The current state of the boat, for about a month now)

We'll have another post soon about work on other boats on the island, because the summer/dry season is clearly the time to work on boats.

Visit to Demonstration Farm (and the biggest lemon I've ever seen)

Back in December, MIDA, the Ministry of Agricultural Development, brought Dario, the owner of a finca de difusion de tecnologia, or demonstration farm, to the island to talk to some of the cattlemen about methods he'd implemented with the guidance of the MIDA tecnicos (extension agents).

I arranged a visit on 20 January to Dario's finca on the mainland so the island cattlemen could see firsthand how he was doing things. They also scored some seeds for the biggest lemon I've ever seen.

(Like all good government projects, there is a sign to explain how the money is being spent)

It turned out only three of the cattlemen were interested and able to go that day, but that was a good number, as they could see everything easily and ask questions without hiding quietly in a crowd. We started just outside his house, where his wife (who is very involved in the farm; they both made the point that it is a family farm and family effort) explained their data keeping methods and financial recording, and why it is important.

That is not something many small farmers think about, the full cost of items from the start to the end; there are stories of farmers selling their crop or animals and thinking they've made a big profit because it is much more than they paid for the seeds or baby animals, but they have never calculated in the intermediate costs of time, fertilizers or food, pesticides or vaccines, or other supplies, and in reality, they are lost money on the deal. It seems most of the larger cattlemen on the island are making money, but they may not be tracking their costs to know how much.

(The group in front of Dario's house, minus Dario. His wife (blue shirt) and two sons (red stripe and black shirts), with Maria de Yepez from MIDA, talked about bookkeeping and family farming.)

Then Dario came back and we headed out into the fields to look at the grasses and other plants he grows to feed the cattle, how he has sub-divided his pasture land to rotate the cattle, and the trees and other products he has incorporated into his farm planning.

(Alex, from the island, walking through a plot of buton de oro, which grows about eight feet tall, has pretty flowers, and is an important component of the silage they produce)

We walked past some other examples of sustainable agriculture as well, including several varieties of compost piles.

(Pedro, from the island, Maria de Yepez, and Dario, talking about compost)

The part that was of primary interest to the cattlemen however, was the chipper/shredder. Dario had talked about making ensilaje, or silage, which is a mix of plants that provide good food for the cattle, and the cattlemen wanted to know more about how hard and how expensive it was. They were surprised at the size (smaller than expected) and the fact that it ran on gas (they'd presumed electricity, since Dario had electricity, which would have ruled it out for them), as well as how easily and quickly it would chop up buton de oro and caña de azucar (sugar cane).

(Julio, who also owns the upper tienda on the island, feeds sugar cane and buton de oro into the chipper shredder)

Julio currently cuts up sugar cane by hand with a machete to feed his cattle, a process he felt was fairly easy. His mind might have been changed by trying out the chipper/shredder.

By all accounts, it was a worthwhile and enlightening trip for the cattlemen from the island and several of them said they intend to implement some of the process they'd observed. Now I just need to follow up with them occasionally to help it happen and encourage them to share what they learn with others on the island.

By late morning, we returned to port. While grabbing lunch before the return boat ride (yes, out and back in one day; while rare, it is possible, especially if you plan it and go with the capitan, who in this case was Pedro), I watched the TV in the restaurant, which for a while was on a live feed of the Presidential Inauguration from the US; as April said, I cried for the national anthem.

Oh, and if you read through all this just to see a picture of the biggest lemon I've ever seen, here you go:

(Pedro, holding up the lemon from Dario's farm that he is going to bring home and collect seeds from to try to grow his own; he told me later it made good lemonaid)

(As far as I know, the big lemon is not a part of the demonstration parts of the farm. When asked what type of lemon it was, the Panamanians said it was a limón chino; they generally apply chino to anything that is much larger/smaller/different from the normal version of itself.)

Our new Solar Oven

Friends are a wonderful thing...even when they plot behind your back. Little did I know before Tabassum and Linda arrived for a Christmas time visit that they were plotting with our mutual friend Bill to haul a heavy gift to us.

Bill, who owns a business installing irrigation systems, did some work for one of the guys (I hope I got this story right) who works at Solar Household Energy (SHE), a 501(c)(3) not-for profit that makes solar ovens. Well, Bill was hooked with the idea of a solar oven that cooks using only the energy of the sun. He bought one and enjoyed using it.

Bill soon decided that we needed one and so sent us one via two petite couriers. (Linda and Tabassum were really looking forward to leaving that heavy stove at our house...little did they know that they would leave here with bags a little heavier than when they arrived. Thanks for hauling our beach glass collection home!) Due to good protective packaging and careful hauling, the stove arrived in excellent condition. We opened it Christmas day.

Well, I understand why Bill was hooked. It is a pretty cool stove, and works well with full sun. It is incredibly simple and easy to clean. I was also thrilled that I can use the pots as mixing bowls...something that I was lacking. They also serve well for overnight storage of food.



Why cook solar? The Solar Household Energy (SHE) webpage says:

Currently, more than half of the world’s population relies on biomass (wood, animal dung and crop residue) for cooking, according to the U.N.’s World Health Organization (WHO). This practice causes disease, economic hardship, and environmental degradation. Modern solar cooking ovens like SHE’s “HotPot” offer practical, affordable, long-term relief.



In our community here in Panamá there is evidence of families that suffer from smoke related illnesses. There is a high incidence of respritory illnesses and colds. A couple of the ladies that we work with have even been advised by their doctors that they should avoid cooking with leña (wood) because of the negative impacts of the smoke on their health.



Of course, we were excited to receive it...and so made bread with it the same day. The first 4 photos below are from our first attempt at bread. I made the dough for a white herbed onion and garlic bread. I covered the dough with oil and put it in the pot...

This is what the whole stove looks like, the mirrored surface makes understanding it's shape a bit more difficult.


Within half an hour of putting it in the sun the glass was steamed up and the pot was really warm to the touch.

The bread turned out really well. It had good flavor and a rich dense even texture. I think that it will work better to let the bread rise more by not pointing it directly into the sun at first. The only problem that I had is that the stove lid catches the evaporation and sends it back into the pot...which is a good thing if cooking soup, a stew, or roasting something, but when cooking bread resulted in a soggy bottom crust.

I also tried rolls...and put them in a bowl inside the pot as a measure of protection from the moisture. They were ok, I think that they overcooked as they were dry and heavy. I will have to try that again. But, they did raise well.

I also cooked a casserole (rice, mushroom soup, veggies, tuna, and a bit of leftover cheese on top) and that cooked wonderfully in about 3 hours. It was enough food for 2.5 meals for the two of us. Below are before and after cooking photos.

Baco's also gave this casserole a good flavor boost.

Other things that I have cooked?

• rice (too sticky from long slow cooking),


• eggs (hardboiled well without water),


• brownies (my first failure as the sun clouded over about 45 min after putting out the stove...but I cooked them on the stove top as normal and did not mind the excuse to eat a little brownie batter)


• Zucinni / pumpkin bread (done 3 times now and a big hit with everyone who trys it)


• Water (heated to do laundry with hot water...best for the dirtiest clothing)

With direct hot sunlight things cook well, taking about 2 or 3 times as long as normal. This can be an issue if you need to go somewhere or the weather changes. Reheating foods is also possible and doesn't take terribly long. Wind, clouds and curious kids standing between it and the sun can all increase cooking time.

This stove offers a good alternative to fuel based cooking for some types of cooking. It is not a perfect alternative. Solar cooking is more suited to slow cooking foods and can not make fast cooking foods (can't fry with it for example). In our community here in Panama, this might mean that it would receive limited use...maybe for beans and soups and roasts, but it is too cool for frying and cooks rice so slowly that it is more sticky than most would like. It is not reasonable to think that people will change their traditional diet to use a new type of stove, when they still have access to the means to cook traditionally. In areas where the situation is more dire this stove would be more fully utilized out of necessity. Please do not interpret this to mean that my neighbors would not use it, rather it would be one of many cooking methods.

All in all, I am a fan of the solar stove and plan on continuing to try new foods. I particularly want to try to roast a whole chicken without oil or water like the directions book says you can...I think that that might just confirm my "wizard cooking abilities" in the minds of my nieghbors if it goes well. We like it so well that we plan on hauling it (even though it is HEAVY) to the next volunteer conference here in Panamá so other volunteers can see it too.



A big THANKS to Bill and his helpful couriers Linda and Tabassum for this wonderful and very appropriate gift. Our plan is to pass it along to another PVC when we finish here in Panamá so another volunteer (and their curious community) can enjoy it too.

Palm Wine

(Photos uploaded by April; text by Kevin)

There are lots of reasons to chop down a tree. Cut it into lumber. Make Firewood. Clear a field. Because it threatened to drop a branch on the house. Because it drops stinky fruit on our porch.

Recently we encountered a new reason: because it makes a vina de palma, or palm wine.

(April and Ancelmo at a felled palm; he will scoop the wine and fill that small container. It is hard to see the trunk of the tree for all of the fronds around it...but he is working with the trunk.)

On Ash Wednesday (in other words, the day after four days of Carnaval fun had finished), I was pasear-ing around the island to tell folks about a meeting on Saturday. My last stop was at Ancelmo and Paula's house. They had been our first host family on the island and are always glad to see us. This time, Ancelmo was even more amigable (friendly) than normal; for him Wednesday was the day to finish up anything (alcohol) that hadn't been consumed during the previous four days. After chatting for a bit, they asked if I wanted to see the vina.

Well, I wasn't sure what that was, but I agreed to follow them up into a field. They assured me that it was not that far...and sure enough we soon arrived at where they were making vina de palma and I finally understood. After realizing what it was we were after, and enjoying some good vina (not as much as Ancelmo), I agreed to bring April back the next day. These pictures are from that visit.

The palm (not all types of palms work for this; some are used for their fronds to make roofs, this one is used for wine) is cut down and a hole is cut in the side, near the former top of the tree. There are other countries where palm trees are tapped to make wine rather than cut down, but in the island these trees are basically weeds that are allowed to grow for a few years just so they can be cut to make wine.

(The hole in the side of the tree)

The sap continues to climb the tree for about ten days afterward, where it collects enough to empty the hole twice a day. The sap contains natural yeasts that start fermentation immediatly and naturally.

(Ancelmo scooping the vina from the hole)

The other option, besides scooping out all the vina into a container to bring back to the house, is to cut a reed that serves as a straw, and enjoy some vina right there in the midst of the long, dangerous thorns that cover the palm.

(Me following Ancelmo's directions to try some more, try some more)

So how does it taste? If you empty the hole, the next time it will have a very warm initial taste followed by an almost sweet vina. That was how it was the first afternoon I was there. Take a long sip, because while the first taste may be a shock, the rest is better.

But (possibly due to his enjoyment of other beverages earlier that day), they didn't bring the cup to scoop out the hole that first day, this left some of the wine fermenting for another 24 hours. So when we returned with April the next day, the vina had fermented a bit more, and was, as even Ancelmo put it, fuerte (strong).

(My reaction on day two shows the difference in flavor and strength)

To keep the sap flowing, after emptying the hole you need to carve off the upper-most layer of the heart of the palm. Like a Christmas tree, this keeps it from sealing over.

(Anclemo using his machete to scrape off the leading edge of the palm heart)

Then before you leave, the hole is re-covered with the chunks from cutting it, as well as some of the spikey palm fronds, to protect it from ants, bees, animals, dogs, horses, and neighbors.

(Ancelmo putting the frond over the chunks in the hole)

The day April and I visited, we didn't partake much of the vina, since it had developed such a strong flavor. But the first day, I'd been hiking and chatting for about four hours by the time I arrived there, and I was thristy. And Ancelmo kept saying, try some more, try some more. The sun was setting, and I needed to walk fast to get back at least to the sidewalk before it got too dark to go safely over the rocky trails.

But the sky and clouds were turning beautiful colors and we were hanging out in the middle of a field drinking from a recently cut palm tree. I just couldn't feel in a hurry to leave. Using a straw, I have no idea how much I sipped, but it wasn't too strong that day, and I made it home happy and safely.

Estufa Lorena - the first fire

We recently made an Estufa Lorena or earthen stove with Cecilia and Eduardo. We were pretty excited about it and that made waiting the 30 days for it to dry pretty hard for those of us who are impatient at times (who? me? never!). Luckily, our many guests came along and being guides for them took our minds off of the stove...and before we knew it the time for lighting the stove was here.


Cecilia and her family did a fabulous job taking care of the stove while it was drying. They did layers of mud and later ash every two or three days as directed on the calendar that we made them to follow. That ability to follow directions is rare in any community, but spectacular here. As a result of their daily work, the stove was beautiful. It looked almost like cement and was wonderfully smooth and dry. Unknown to us, Cecilia had carved our initials into the front of it very prominently to remember us as she uses the stove. Of course, that just upped the ante on hoping the darn thing worked well.Below is a view of the inside of the firebox (admittedly not the prettiest view) which allows you to see the upward slant of the smoke tunnel as it heads to the second burner. This style of stove uses the hot air for 2 or 3 pots to get the most efficient use of the wood being burned. In the back you can see bits of the original brown clay that she did not cover.Here is the firebox with a fire in it. Getting it to burn well took some practice, Cecilia is used to really packing in the wood (because normally the fire is in an open area) but this smothered the fire a bit in the stove. You can see the pot on the burner, positioned just above the main body of the fire. Despite good pot placement we had a hard time getting the pot to boil...it formed little bubbles on the bottom but never reached a rolling boil. Not having a rolling boil is a problem, without it no woman would be happy with this stove. We decided that we needed to adjust 3 things:

1. Sand the indents where the pot sits for a better flush seal between pot and stove (and less smoke would escape too).
2. Make the burner holes bigger to allow more heat passage to the pot. This limits how small a pot she can use, but made the rolling boil possible.
3. Adjust the angle of the roof of the firebox to slope inwards so the smoke would head towards the back and the chimney...not out the mouth of the firebox.

In a true show of self motivation, Cecilia did all of these changes while we were out of town...unheard of! She did a wonderful job...even adding clay to the mouth of the stove in a test to see if that helps to limit the blowback when the wind changes direction. She is an amazing woman. The best part is, after the changes she got the ultimate reward: seeing her changes make her stove work better...she got a rolling boil and cooked her first pot of rice with it.

We were able to use the photo above to illustrate that you can use smaller diameter wood effectively with this stove. The wood on the left is the size she would normally use...a bit bigger than my wrist. The wood on the right is smaller, about the size of my thumb. Both can be used, but normally they would not bother to collect the smaller stuff which is typically blown down rather than cut down.

Below is Kevin with the stove that first burn day...note the temperary chimney. They will make a permanent chimney when they finish the new roof (hopefully before rainy season!). Having only a temporary chimney has served well to illustrate how much better the stove works with a chimney. Cecilia is excited about cooking without so much smoke and heat. This could be a good life change for her, and if anyone can take care of this stove and make it last for 20 years it is her.

So what is next? Well, tenemos ganas (we have the desire) to make a stove at the school where the mothers cry from the smoke and sweat from the heat almost every day as they cook lunch. But community development means you do what the community wants to do to better themselves. With that in mind we have a meeting at Cecilia's house on March 5th with the mothers who do the cooking at the shool. The goal is to show them the stove, explain what it is, how we made it, and what are the pros and cons of this type of stove...and then ask if they want one and will work with us to build it with them. I think that they will want one...I mean it is cheap, cooler, safer, no smoke, and less wood to burn. But vamos a ver (we will see) what they want and go from there.

Estufa Lorena - mud day

It took numerous trips to Cecilia and Eduardo's house to get everything ready, but we finally made their estufa lorena! Here are the photos and story of the preparation steps and construction day. Watch for another post on the finished product.

Preparation
The first step was collecting the materials. The ingredients list is pretty simple: barro (soil with a fairly high clay content), arena (sand), estiércol (horse or cow poo), and agua (water). We had actually collected barro and estiercol a while ago with them, and stored it in their chicken coop. The problem came when we did a soil test.

(Results from a good soil test; note the layers - at the top, orangish water that will eventually settle to clear, then a half inch layer of clay, then an orangish soil layer, then the big stuff at the bottom of the 2-liter. Color is not very important, this one just happened to be an orangish soil)

The soil we had collected at Cecilia and Eduardo's didn't show a nice clear thick layer of clay. In a 2 liter bottle test you fill it 1/4 way with soil and hope for 3/4-1 inch of clay. Without enough clay content, the "brick" that becomes the stove wouldn't hold together well. So we had to search for different soil.

We tried a couple other spots near their house, but they didn't have better layers, and Eduardo found a seam of pure clay near the shore, but that wouldn't mix with the other ingredients well, it just formed small balls and rolled off. Finally, we hiked ten minutes up into their pasture and collected small pea sized clay chunks from an ant hill; the ants dig down into the ground to make their home and dump the more clay heavy soil around their hole. The pile was probably two feet tall and three feet around, and was more than enough to augment our existing pile of low-clay soil.

The estiercol was the next problem. It is best collected in dry lumps of cow or horse manure, but it needs to be more of a dust to mix with the other ingredients. So Cecilia and Eduardo ended up putting it in their pilon and pilar-ing it to get it into a dust. (Click here to see a video of pilar-ing rice.)

The arena was simple, since they live on one of the best sandy beaches on the island. The water was not too hard either.

The last prep step was building a base for the stove. Cecilia wanted a cement table, although any really strong table like a packed earth or stone will work too. We measured the height she would want her pots to be at, then subtracted the height of the estufa, and came up with a two-cement-block-high table. Many of the stove tables in our community are too darn tall (some are too tall even for April) because the men build then without considering how tall the cook is.

(Eduardo and Kevin constructing the walls of the table; we left the front open for storage of wood or pots)

Eduardo built the tabletop while we were out of site one time, a pro-active bit of workmanship that was quite pleasant to encounter. So everything was ready and we set a date for the construction. We let other community members know the date, because we figured we would need some help, and we hoped all would go well.

Construction


The morning of construction, we had three youth from the community, including Julito, who had accompanied me to another volunteer's site nearly a year ago to build a couple of estufas, and then Maria Luisa came as well. It was a good thing we had that many helpers, because with collecting an extra sacko of clay from the ant hill, building the formuleta (wooden frame, held together by nails and bailing wire), mixing all the ingredients, and packing them in, it was a long hard day. Luckily, the construction site was under a tree, providing us nice shade. Before rainy season returns, they will reconstruct the roof over the stove.

(The first load of the mix is dumped into the formuleta and packing begins; Eduardo, Maria Luisa, Cecilia, and April ensure the corners are well packed too)

The formuleta was made from lumber cut on the island. The pieces we'd purchased originally turned out to be an inch or so too short, so we had to cobble together an extra piece to make it tall enough. It didn't impact the end result, but it did delay the start as we cut extra pieces of wood.

Normally the soil mixture is made in parts, instead of all at once because that would be just too much volume to mix with a shovel. The ratio of ingredients is important, as it needs to be damp but not wet, clumpy but not sticky, etc. Each batch is tested with a ball test...a ball the size of a baseball is made and then dropped from shoulder height. In a good mix the ball will land and flatten out to about 1/2 round and show no big cracks. If the test doesn't go well you adjust the mixture until it tests well.

Once it is dumped into the formaleta, it is packed, using a big packer in the middle and smaller ones around the edge to ensure that all parts are well compacted. It is added and packed layer by layer to ensure that it is well packed.

(Eduardo using the big packer, a chunk of wood covered in a sacko so it doesn't stick to the mix)

When the formuleta was finally filled, the last touches of packing took place.

(You can see the formuleta bulging in the front right corner, pulling out the nails, from all the pounding and packing of the soil. Bulging is common at this stage as it is hard to imagine just how much force you are applying to the wood while packing... it is hard to get people to build the box strong enough to not have bulging.)

Once the formulate was packed full, it was time for lunch, and then we began to remove the wooden frame.

(Maria Luisa and Eduardo removing nails from the formuleta)

The idea is to be able to use the same formuleta on multiple stoves. We'll have to see if our wood is still in good enough shape to use it again.

(Maria Luisa and Kevin looking at the packed mud as the final pieces of the formuleta are removed)

Once the formuleta is totally removed, it is time to carve out the firebox, the "burners", the chimney hole, and the tunnels connecting them.

(Cecilia, as the ama de casa, or woman of the house, ceremonially began the carving, cutting out the mud for the mouth of the firebox)

It helps to have a child assist at this point, since their small hands work better than big ones in carving the small tunnels with limited access. There should be twenty centimeters between the front of the stove and the first burner, and ten centimeters between all the other holes (in this case, two burners and a chimney) and the edges.

(Cecilia working on the mouth of the firebox, and her daughters Rosaria and Soray carving out the big and small burners respectively)

While the holes are mostly carved with spoons, we also trim off the edges with a machete to remove any sharp edges, both for a smoother result and to diminish the risk of uneven drying and thus cracking. You finish off by using water to smooth out the whole surface and make it pretty.

Then, you have to wait for about thirty days for the mixture to slowly dry. Early on, each day you should apply a watery clay mixture to ensure even drying; later, it becomes an ash mixture instead, to seal it.

(April with her hand in the main burner - the firebox is hidden in the darkness of the front side - a few days after construction)

The actual construction was done by mid-afternoon, a very full day's work. Late that afternoon, as we walked, exhausted, back to the house, we noted the clouds building and thought, how funny, here it is the summer dry season, and we might get rain. But it wasn't until we got home and the rain started pounding down that we thought, OH CRAP! THE STOVE WILL BE NOTHING BUT A PILE OF MUD! and tried to call Cecilia. We left messages on her phone and her daughter's, and hoped. Luckily, they thought of it as well and put a piece of zinc over the stove, saving all our hard work from immediate ruin.

Keep an eye out...a post about the first lighting of the stove is coming up soon!

Paul and Sandy's Visitor View

Paul & Sandy’s Visit to Panama 1/28/09-2/9/09
“Short” Recap

Q1: How was Panama what you expected?

Panama was about what we expected. Panama is a large metropolitan city surrounded by neighborhoods of varying levels of socioeconomic conditions. We were slightly surprised (but probably should not have been) how poorly many Panamanians live.

Q2: How was it different than what you expected?

The most striking thing for me that was different than I expected was how many Panamanians have cell phones. Regardless of living conditions, they often having more than one phone, and they use them regularly.

About the weather - Absolutely terrific the entire time. Even though it was the dry season and has little rain, we had a 5 day stretch where it rained each day, but not enough to change or alter any of our plans. Temps hovered around 90 during the day with a breeze and maybe high 70s in the evening for lows.

About insects – maybe it was because it was the dry season, yet we had little contact with them on our skin. I saw only a few mosquitoes flitting about. I was gnawed on by some no-see-ums a few times but probably only because I washed the bug repellent off when I washed my hands. We were infested with tiny micro sized ticks after our trip to Barro Colorado, and spent a day or so picking them off of us as we discovered them. They were hardly a nuisance, and since they don’t carry Lyme disease, we were not worried.

The little dot to the left of the penny is a tick

Q3: What struck you about the USA when you returned home?

When we returned to the US, I was struck and moved by the US immigrations officer’s declaration as we were leaving his station, “Welcome back Home folks.”

Q4: What was your best moment in Panama?

See below about walking to the tienda on the island.

Q5: What did you find most interesting or most notice about Kevin and April's life in Panama?

Concerning April & Kevin’s life in Panama, I was struck on how connected they were to the Cuerpo de Paz (Peace Corps) organization in Panama. I certainly didn’t realize they had so much contact with the organization on a regular basis. I also get the sense that they don’t fully realize the impact they are having on the people they work with on the island and in the Peace Corps organization. April’s & Kevin’s Spanish is outstanding, and it was great fun watching them negotiate and arrange things in Spanish.

Q6: Free response - anything else you´d like to say about your trip and time here.

Sandy’s and my visit to Panama to visit Abril y Kevin consisted of three parts:
1. A few days in Santa Fe, Veraguas, an hour and a half north of Santiago
2. Several days on their island
3. Four days in Panama City

Our trip getting to Panama was eventful only in that winter descended on Cincinnati the day before our departure, which resulted in our flight from Cincinnati to Miami being cancelled at the last minute. This cascaded into us flying to Ft. Lauderdale and taking a taxi to Miami; then missing our scheduled flight to Panama. Yet, somehow we managed to get to Panama just a couple of hours later than our original scheduled arrival time.

After wading through Immigration and Customs in Panama, we found Abril y Kevin waiting for us. They were with Brian Naranjo, part of April & Kevin’s Embassy host family in Panama. When in Panama City, April & Kevin stay with them, thus saving some money. Brian is the senior political officer for the State Department at the US Embassy in Panama. Now, as most of you know, I am NOT a big fan of our federal government, particularly the State Department which I feel is a big unwieldy bureaucracy, yet after visiting with Brian and Devon, I am happy we have people like him representing the interests of the US abroad. If all State Department political officers were like him, we would be in good shape.

One of first things we learned about Panama is that Panama has a pretty decent transportation system. Not sophisticated but serviceable. The buses between most major cities are large and clean. There are plenty of mini-buses or “coaster buses” to go between smaller places. Now in Panama they play the game “How many people can you cram into a mini-bus?” There may be seats for 30 but you can actually cram 40-50 into one of these things, with people getting on and off the entire trip. Luggage that can’t fit in the small luggage compartment gets tied on top. In most of the cities there are plenty of taxis.

In Panama City, the bus system around town consists primarily of the famous Diablos Rojos (Red Devils) which are retired American school buses painted and decorated. The drivers of these buses compete for passengers and often race each other to bus stops, since the more passengers they carry, they more they make. Diablos Rojos are considered dangerous, and the government appears to be taking steps to bring these buses under government control, replacing the privately owned Diablo Rojos buses with a conventional public metropolitan bus system.

Santa Fe. The first few days were spent in the mountainous area of Santa Fe. The tallest mountains in Panama are only about 3,000 feet high [Editor's correction: The highest point in the country is the Volcán Barú (formerly known as the Volcán de Chiriquí), which rises to 3475 meters / 11401 ft. but we did not go out that far West. Where we were in Santa Fe is at 400m / 1312ft. above sea level.], so the weather change between Santa Fe and Panama City or even Abril y Kevin's island wasn’t all that dramatic. Maybe just a few degrees or so cooler in general.

We spent our days relaxing (a common theme for our trip), and wandering around seeing things. We learned that many if not most of the homes and places to stay in rural Panama are “open air,” no glass in windows, lots of open doors. The hostel we stayed at was essentially a bamboo log home without the chinking between the bamboo logs. Nevertheless, for our entire stay in Panama, we really didn’t need any more than a sheet for cover at night.

View from Hostel terrace

In Santa Fe and everywhere else we found the Panamanian people happy and engaging people, despite many of them living in what we would consider very poor conditions. There were two highlights to our trip to Santa Fe. The first was a tour of a coffee farm and coffee processing plant.

Sandy & me during walk to coffee farm

Our Guide Francisco for the coffee farm & plant trip

The second was our visit to the Santa Fe Feria, sort of like a county fair. We had a good time there sampling Panamanian food. Sandy even had a Panamanian specialty, spiral sliced hot dog on a stick cooked on a grill made from an old tire rim. At this feria is where April told us her philosophy about Panamanian food. Initially, upon arriving in Panama, she was determined to try everything offered her. Now she has two rules:
1. No endangered species, and
2. No food with hair still on it;

April either ordering or saying “There is still hair there.”

Nevertheless, the food we ate was very good. I particularly liked the potato salad made with beets (I don’t even like beets) which gave the potato salad kind of a purple hue.

April & Kevin talking worms and compost at the Feria

On our first morning in Santa Fe we were introduced to the Panamanian alarm clock system. About 5:30 am or so, some rooster in some distant place in Santa Fe or outside decided to do its version of pathetic cockle doodle doing. Before long, the entire community of roosters (and there are a lot of them) were doing their thing, followed by dogs barking and cows mooing. Eventually, as it began to get light, even workers started using tools and making noise. April & Kevin slept through it. Sandy & I sort of laughed at all the noise, wide awake. Since we were around roosters every day except when in Panama City, we often experienced it; although Sandy got to the point she actually slept through it a couple of times on the island.

The Island. After Santa Fe we made our way to Abril y Kevin's island via a night’s stay in Santiago to stock up for groceries. We left early the following morning to a cute little port town an hour south of Santiago where April and Kevin depart for their island. Upon arriving, April found we had a couple of choices for rides. April, Sandy & I hitched a ride with Búho (Booho) in a nice fast fiberglass boat. Kevin went with Carlos and family in their slower wooden, leaky boat, only because we had our “cargo” loaded into Carlos’ boat already. We waved at Kevin as we passed them on the way to the island.

Island dead ahead!

One of the things that was remarkable to me was that on maps it appears that there is more water between the islands. In a boat it seems that the mainland or other islands were close by all the time.

A low tide view from April & Kevin's island of the small island off theirs and the mainland beyond

Living on the island reminded me of camping. The typical routine while there was get up, eat breakfast, relax, do something, have lunch, relax or maybe do something, cook and eat dinner as it is getting dark, clean up, play cards by candlelight, take cool showers and hit the sack. I think Sandy managed a nap each day. The last three days, April put out her camp shower water bag, so that in the evening we had a few bowls full of warm water to rinse off with. What decadence! But it felt good.

The outside of April & Kevin’s house

A view of the inside of the house

The first day we were visited by 10-15 islanders welcoming April & Kevin back to the island, and also I am sure checking out her Gringo parents. The last day we were there, we had two families come over for lunch. Now April uses a lot of vegetables in her cooking, and the islanders do not, so they are usually wary of April’s cooking, yet despite the looks and smirks, for the most part they ate what they were given. After lunch, the men played dominoes and the women bingo. I think we all had a good time.

April, Kevin, and Sandy relaxing on the rocks after a walk to a beach

Besides the joy of seeing April & Kevin in general, I think my favorite part of the time in Panama was when Sandy & I took a walk after breakfast the second day there up the sidewalk past the school to Carlos’ tienda, where we managed to order cold sodas ($0.40 each,) and then sat around there for awhile trying to converse with people very different (but the same) from us and feeling comfortable doing so.

Paul & Sandy on a hike around part of the island

Sandy and a young woman spent some time trading words in Spanish and English looking through the Peace Corps calendar that the young woman had. Big smiles all around. I am sure they got a hoot from us Gringos. After that Sandy and I walked back past April & Kevin’s place and sat on the step by the Casa Comunal (community center) overlooking the bay for about a half hour, just enjoying the view and the time together.

The palm trees near the Casa Comunal

In general, what I took away from the island was that it is clear the islanders love Kevin & April a lot, and that April & Kevin have made a difference in their lives. In fact they mentioned that they really don’t want a new volunteer when April & Kevin’s term expires, they have the volunteers they want!

Panama City. We spent three full days in Panama City, not counting the travel day to get there and the day we left. It was action packed. Friday we spent at Barro Colorado Island, the Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute in the middle of Lake Gatun, in the northern half of the Panama Canal. It was a nice visit, yet I came away a bit disappointed, and can’t quite put my finger on why. We saw plenty of animals and plants, and the hike was nice. April felt it too and we think maybe it was because we didn’t hear much about what projects are currently going on and what the various scientists are finding out. Nevertheless, it in general was a fun day.

Wilma (our guide) and me looking at something

Kevin checking out the Big Tree

April & Kevin at Barro Colorado

April & Kevin by Big Tree

Saturday we spent doing a partial transit of the southern half of the Panama Canal, starting at Gamboa and ending in the Pacific Ocean. It really was pretty neat.

The narrow Gaillard Cut

It was clear Sandy had a great time, and it was great fun watching her jumping around, standing on benches to get a better view. When asked if she wanted her picture taken for a little certificate that proved she transited the Canal, she stated “Yes!”

On the Pacific Queen by the Centenary Bridge

And talk about small world, after calling Kevin’s Dad and Hilary and Grandma Miller, they were able to see our boat going through the Miraflores locks on the Panama Canal webcam.

Leaving the Pedro Miguel Locks

In first lock of Miroflores locks

Leaving Miroflores locks

After we returned to Amador Marina, we wandered around the Amador Causeway, and had a pleasant meal at the restaurant Leños & Carbon.

The Bridge of the Americas marks the beginning (or end) of the canal

Sunday started out with a ride on a Diablo Rojo to where we started the day shopping for souvenirs, then wandering around Casca Veijo, and finally having April & Kevin buy us dinner for our 30th anniversary (just a few weeks ago).

A decked out Diablo Rojo “Red Devil”

A bright yellow building in Casco Antiguo

A Cathedral in Casco Antiguo

Monday we headed back to the USA. :(