Pressing Sugar

Back in April, just after the All Volunteer Conference, we went to visit another volunteer who lives near Chitre, where AVC was held. While there, some folks in the community were pressing sugar cane.

Sugar cane is pretty much a grass that can be grown one little plot in your yard, or in massive fields. The companies burn the fields to get the scratchy leaves off before the workers go through and cut it (so they end up sooty and blackened, but not scratched), and you'll see heavily weighted trucks carrying stacks of the about 8-foot long, 2-inch across stalks to the factories, where it is processed.

But small farmers do it on a smaller scale. They load the cane into horse-drawn carts and haul it to the trapichi, which is a horse (or person) powered press. There, each stalk is passed through twice to squeeze out the sugar juice.

(Jon and April watching the horse and farmer press cane; the juice drains out onto the metal ramp which sends it to a filter to remove chunks and then drip into the barrel)

Once the juice is squeezed out, it is heated / simmered over several days to concentrate it. Huge metal bowls are used to the process. This farmer had his built into the stove for the process.

(The bowl of sugar cane juice concentrating. The stick has a large strainer bowl on it for scooping out the concentrate.)

His stove was almost like the Estufa Lorenas, in that it concentrated the heat, thus using less firewood. The mouth of this stove is an old wheel rim.

(The stove mouth. The barrels hold processed sugar juice; buyers will pay $50 for the barrel, but then probably sell the contents piecemeal in town for $100)

Of course, there are other kinds of sugar and honey you can press. :) April and I, dressed up to go to a Samy y Sandra Sandoval concert the next night at the International Fair of the Azuero (the Azuero is the eastern side of the big peninsula on the south of Panama, containing the provinces of Herrera and Los Santos, and is famous for its "typical" Panamanian culture). Samy y Sandra's grandmother lives in the community where we saw the cane being pressed.

Some Food Photo Updates

Back at Easter, several folks brought us traditional foods. These included: a cocado, which is a mix of shaved coconut and raspadura, a cake of raw sugar cane sugar; a sweetened yuca mash (yuca is a very starchy root crop); and balos, which are corn flour mash, slightly sweetened, wrapped in a corn leave or husk.

(cocado, yuca, and balo)

Last week, April returned from Isla Coiba (it went well, look for a summary and photos -snorkeling, crocodiles, the penal colony- in about a week, when we get out again and she has computer time) with a sport fisherman, who offered her a ride back to our island (he was going past on the way to port) as long as she was willing to go fishing for an hour or two first. They caught a 50-lb fish they said was wahoo(sp?), but I'm not sure if that is the same as wahoo in English.

(April's nice doctor from Panama City who offered a ride back from Isla Coiba; he goes sport fishing about once a month for a couple of days to fill his freezer)

They immediately fileted it and stuck the ziplocs in a cooler, and when she got out, they gave her a bag with probably 8-lbs of two-inch thick slabs of fish. We shared some with our neighbors (the first time we've ever been able to give them fish) and cooked the rest with garlic and olive oil as massive steaks (except one we blackened with Phillips Blackening Seasoning; thanks Kristin).

(Cooking three of our massive fish steaks)

Vagaina Monologues

A couple of months ago, two volunteers in our region, Teri and Cassie, used the same funding source we used for our Health Fair to support the Theatre department at the Santiago branch of the Universidad Panama in staging Los Monologos de la Vagina (The Vagaina Monologues). In addition to the play, which was attended by over 300 people on its one night showing, they organized a day of charlas (discussions) for about 30 community members from PCVs' communities. The charlas, on AIDS and domestic violence issues, were led by Panamanians from Mides (Ministry of Social Development) and APLAFA (sort of like a Planned Parenthood maybe?) who are very enthusiastic about helping stop the spread of AIDS and ending domestic violence.

Five women went from our community to both the day of charlas and the play, and then spent the night in a hotel in Santiago. For all of them, it was their first time going to the theatre, and may have been their first night in a hotel. They certainly enjoyed themselves both at the play and with the night away (even if their rooms didn't have TV or A/C, they did have lights and a shower and bathroom).

(Maria Ester, Marlina, Ilsa, Yadira, and Magda, at Los Monologos de la Vagina, as evidenced by the playbill in Maria Ester's hand)

It took a lot of walking and talking to get those five (it was supposed to be six). Initially, we chatted with Cecilia and Maria Luisa (who would have loved to have gone, but felt that others would find greater benefit from attending) about who to ask. They recommended women they thought would be willing to talk about what they heard and/or who faced domestic violence. They selected women from all parts of the island, so that each community would have someone who had experienced the charlas and show. Then I walked around the island, visiting just about every house to deliver an open invitation to all the women on the island to the show, and a special invitation to the selected women for the full day and the night in the hotel.

I received a lot of interest (the name alone makes people take notice), and several of the women immediately said yes they would accept. There were some logistical questions (at one point, I thought I might be babysitting a two-and-a-half year-old all day, but evidently she stayed with a friend or relative) about the event, but with April in Panama City, I think any trickier questions about the topic weren't addressed to me. But when I returned a few days later to confirm their attendance, two backed out. It may have been due to child care concerns, or fears of spending a night out in the city, or it might have been a disapproving husband. Whatever the reason, I ran around to talk with our backups (two kids got colds and moms were unwilling to leave them with relatives; so they said) and called Maria Luisa and Cecilia. I also coordinated with Israel, the corregidor, to use the community boat to take us to port. As we left at dawn that morning to go around the island and pick everyone up, I wondered how many would actually be ready and going. I was pleasantly surprised.

We arrived at port early enough that we didn't need to go straight to the charlas, so I gave each of them their bus fare and told them we'd meet at the terminal at 8:45 to go to the APLAFA offices. When I walked up at 8:40, expecting to wait for them, all five were there, wondering why I was late! Then, instead of taking a taxi, Marlina said they'd walk, since she knew where it was and it wasn't far. I am constantly pleasantly surprised.

They were a bit surprised when I introduced them to Cassie, Teri, and the others leading the charlas and then started to leave; clearly they hadn't anticipated being left "alone". But when I came back at the end of the day, they were a happily integrated part of the class. The only other confusion came when we checked into the hotel. In addition to their three rooms, through the grant, I had made a separate reservation for April and I. But I don't think they realized that, and they were concerned about which one of them was going to have to share a room with me (five of them plus me, with three rooms, meant two people per room). They laughed once they realized the only question was which of them had to sleep alone.

Everyone had a few hours to get made up to go out, and then we headed to the theatre. When the play started, they initially checked with us for our reactions, but soon they were absorbed in laughing along with the rest of the crowd. They clearly had an exciting night, and from conversations with others on the island, they've been sharing their experiences and the fun. Thank you to Cassie and Teri for putting so much effort into making both the day and the play happen.

One other photo from that night:

(Us with the women from the island at the theatre; I don't usually see it when just chatting with them, but every so often, something points out to me that I am a bit taller than most of the folks here.)

Follow Up Volunteer

Peace Corps service is only two years. At the end of two years, if you've really "done" it, you have a pretty good grasp of the language, you understand most of the culture, you're comfortable eating, getting around, and travelling, and you have a good grasp/understanding/comfort level in your community. And then, just when you are starting to feel successful, everyone wants to implement the ideas you've been mentioning, and suddenly you have tons of work to do, it is time to leave.

If, like in our case, you were a first time volunteer, the community has finally gotten a good grasp of your grasp of the language, they understand the aspects of your culture you've displayed in site, and they know what you are comfortable eating, and have finally gotten a good grasp/understanding/comfort level with the gringo in their midst and what is Peace Corps. And just when they are wanting to implement the ideas you've been mentioning and have tons of work for you to do, you leave.

The solution? A Follow Up Volunteer. New blood (for the chitra and mosquitos, quite literally). Someone who can come in and continue the work you started, hopefully picking up right where you left off. Thanks to your efforts, they shouldn't have to learn everything from scratch, won't have mention the ideas for the first time, and should be able to implement.

We will benefit from just such a Follow Up Volunteer in the island, and hopefully she will benefit from us. We've been able to arrange for host families; she should get all of our household goods at a discount (and not have to haul them out there); we're providing her a map with everyone's name, nickname, and relationship (so she'll know who are siblings, cousins, etc); we've made a list of in-progess projects and potential projects, as well as groups and people to work with; and we've made a list of all the other secrets, tips, and hard-won knowledge we've picked up in our two years here. With luck, she'll start at about the level we achieved in just the last half-year.

Allison is from California and has a strong background in environmental work. She heard about our site from the CEC (April's sector) volunteer who visited us two weeks ago and told Francisco (April's boss) that she would like to come here. (There are no couples in CEC or SAS in this group, which is ironic after our group two years ago had five couples.) She is tall apparently, which is lucky, since we built for our height and things shouldn't have to be lowered. Beyond that, we don't know much yet. She will do her Site Visit (recall ours' here) in mid-June, ironically when we are in Panama City to do our COS (Close of Service) medical appointments. Then she will swear-in on 30 June and head to site later that week, which, as you know, is right when we leave the country. So, we aren't sure yet when or how we'll meet her to chat about the island. But even if we don't, she'll have all our notes and the support of our great friends in the community who are enthusiastic about helping her get settled in. We wish her the best of luck.

Arrival Date!

As many of you have calculated or realized watching our recent posts, our two years of Peace Corps service is almost up. And now we finally have the answer to the question Grandma asked every time we talked with her: "When are you coming home?"

We will be coming home Independance Day weekend.

We'll spend it at my folks' house in Lexington, Virginia. April's folks will come down, my grandma will be there, hopefully April's grandma will be able to come up, and my sister, along with Justin and Sam, the 20-month-old nephew I've never met, will come down on the 4th. We'll grill out and have hamburgers and instead of salchichas, real hotdogs!

We'll also start the process of readjusting to life in the United States: punctuality, expensive avocados, sidewalks, no really fresh fruit or fish, temperature changes greater than 10-15 degrees, no good bus system, etc.

We'll start to organize some of our pictures and memoriabilia into a condensed showcase of our time here; we want to be able to show and tell more than the blog has provided, but without overwhelming folks with a day-long lesson. We are still working on travel plans (if you want to see the show in your neighborhood, let us know) and job plans (if you need a volunteer coordinator, let April know! :).