Strange Times, the Black Keys

Wake up, eat breakfast, go to work.  Said that way, my life here isn’t too much different from what it would have been if I forwent this crazy Peace Corps adventure.  But when I explain that work can mean anything from riding my bike out to my counterpart’s house to discuss organic agriculture, gardening, going to school to play with kids or visiting friend’s houses, my work sounds a lot easier than other post-college jobs.  I don’t deny that – yet just because it sounds easy, doesn’t mean that it is.

I’m not writing this to convince anyone that my “work” is harder than your work.  It’s different, but that doesn’t make it easier.  I live in my second language.  It’s easier than my third language, but it’s not my first.  I attempt to change a culture.  Think of all the various differences in North American culture – then think about how irreconcilable the minute differences are.  I look for new job opportunities in everything.  Since being told that outside of turtle season, people starve – a near blatant lie to my face – I have been forcing myself to prove them wrong within their own home.  I do spend a lot of time in a hammock, but here, everyone spends a lot of time in a hammock, no matter how hard they work.

This is to give you a glimpse into the daily life of a Peace Corps volunteer, whether I am a friend or family member, or a lucky victim of a web search.  This is like a two year vacation; I can see that, only five months in.  But I can also already see that no other job will be as challenging as this.  Culture clashes are a part of my every day life, because I’m a foreigner or a woman.  I have to walk on eggshells while maintaining my personality and trying stubbornly to get my way.  I look for loopholes and ways to close the ones present; I look for new explanations and jobs for my community members.  I say the same five things over and over.  What will you do when the turtles are extinct?  When will you turn them into a different kind of resource?  I am a human resource, but if I support a project, I can help you get grants.  If God wills it.  I am not here to teach English.

I no longer speak the Spanish I came here speaking.  My accent still remains Castilian, despite my attempts to rid myself of the lisp – it holds on in certain words.  But I am adapting toward Panamanian Spanish.  I say now for later, already for now.  Goodbye for hello, I can’t stop a chat, but I see you.  Hey instead of yes.  I drop the “s”, the “d”.  I add in “r” or “l”.  I hold the “s”.  Some of the sayings hold, yet others have dropped.

I’m five months in on my twenty-seven month vacation.  It’s the hardest vacation I’ve ever had, but I wouldn’t change it for anything.