true life planet

So, last off, I was walking along with my two new friends. We were doing quite well, walking along at a good pace, and I was finally mastering the use of my walking poles.

We stopped off at a little bar in Viskarret, a tiny vilage not conssiting of much but the aforementioned bar, where we rested and ate bocadillos and drank hot coffee. After the bar, we took off again,keeping along at a nice pace-but frankly, it was much too fast for me. I felt like I didn´t have time to see anything at all-only time to concentrate on the walking and using the poles and watching for traffic and looking out for slippery rocky bits.

I was grateful when my two companions decided to continue on without me. I slowed down considerably, taking breaks as I needed them. I scribbled in my drawing book, wrote notes in my journal, and enjoyed the absolutely breathtaking views.

Many people on the camino stopped and talked to me-but I found that if I walked with someone else, I concentrated not on the surounding beauty, but on having a conversation. So I usually would just send them onwards with a wave and a smile, perferring instead to have my part of the trail to myself.

One thing that really struck me as I walked was how fast everyone was going-many people only had a defined amount of time to either complete the entire walk, or to complete one stage of it. It seemed a bit competitive as well, and people´s conversations were often about how much one was carrying, and how light their load was; how fast someone was; and so on. Hardly anyone talked of spiritual things, or even historical things along the way. Rarely did anyone seem to stop and relax, or breathe in the absolute beauty of the countryside. I found this somewhat astonishing.

Many people seemed to be walking the walk as a walk; as something to check off one´s list as having done; and so on. Although I am aware there are many different ways to do the Camino, on this first day alone, I became aware of the exhausting pace people tried to keep up with-and this colored my perception of the Camino greatly.

I was feeling somewhat disenchanted with the whole experience, when I met a wonderful woman and her sister, who were doing the walk in memory of their mother. Just walking with these two incredible souls, who were very observant about the plants and wildlife along the walk as well, rejuvenated my spirit considerably.

At about this time, the Camino began to decend into Zubiri. The booklet I had brought along about the Camino had said ¨The camino descent into Zubiri is difficult in bad weather…¨Well, the weather was getting worse by the moment. In fact, it had not stopped raining the entire day, and only seemed to be getting worse.

The descent was difficult for many reasons: It was very steep; it was very rocky-a sort of slippery slate; it was muddy; and I had to concentrate so much not to slip and fall, that I barely looked up to see what was next. The rain made everything slick and wet, and the mud on my boots soon covered the lower half of my pants, as well.

I saw three people fall along the way. Everyone was always very nice and helpful to each other, and when someone fell, everyone stopped and helped the person.

I finally fell myself.

Falling down, especially at the start, had been a worry for me. I do not have the best ankles for various reasons, and so I was worried that they would not be strong enough to handle parts of the Camino.

Still, I wasn´t expecting to fall so soon. I basically twisted my right ankle quite badly.

There was no choice but to keep going, and so keep going is what I did. I was in tears, as I was thinking about what this would mean for my Camino journey, and whether I was an idiot to attempt it at all. Other people who had also fallen on their first day were going thru the same thing, and it was impossible to cheer anyone up-we couldn´t even take off our shoes to look at our injuries in the pouring rain and mud anyhow.

The walking poles I had bought the week before saved me. I was able to actually walk all the way to Zubiri-a total of 15 miles journey within the first day-in spite of having an injury.

When I finally got to Zubiri, I gratefully hpbbled to the refugio in the center of town, took off my boots and socks, and surveyed the damage to my ankle. It looked better than I thought it would-sort of purplish and swollen, though, which wasn´t promising. It hurt like hell.

I wrapped it, elevated it, iced it, and lay on my bunk bed thinking about my dream of doing the Camino de Santiago. Maybe I would not be able to do it. Maybe I should just stop. Maybe it was insane with my ankles to attempt it.

I think what made it especially difficult was that I was surrounded by people who were really into doing the whole thing, or most of it, as quickly as possible. I sort of felt idiotic that I was already injured, and not wanting to keep going. Many other people were starting to arrive at the refugio at this point, and they were unwrapping their bandaged feet, ankles, knees, and toes..popping pain killers, even.

I was so tired from all the walking and the stress of having to figure out what to do next, that I fell fast asleep. When I awoke, I went outside, only to find my two friends that I had started out with(the Australian woman and the the Englishman) waiting outside. They had arrived hours before, and were talking about meeting for dinner. We agreed to meet a bit later, and I showed them my very ugly ankle.

Everyone gave me alot of advice on how to treat it, and I followed all of it. The main thing I decided to follow was the advice of a man from Madrid, who told me that ¨my Camino is my Camino¨, and that I should just skip any difficult parts(parts that my ankle couldn´t handle). He gave me alot to think about-and he had great maps of the Camino as well, which we spread out on my bunk bed. He helped me figure out a better route, with no major downhill parts and so on.

How grateful I am to this stranger-no doubt because of him, I´m still on the Camino.

By dinner I was in much better spirits-and the dinner itself was really lovely. The Englishman had a Spanish wife, and so had been living in Spain for many years-his Spanish was impeccable, his mastery over the menu a gift. We had the most extraordinary meal, a true Basque meal, of a salted cod and potato cold salad and tiny red peppers stuffed with salted cod so creamy and delicate it melted in my mouth. 

Walking back to the refugio was not as pleasant, the town of Zubiri(like many others) seems to been taken over by modern apartment complexes, which are of brick and quite undistinguished. The old parts of the town were not near the refugio, and so the town did not seem to have much charm.

This time, the refugio was a pleasant place to sleep-only 24 people to a room!  By some miracle, we had no snorers. Or perhaps I was so tired that I slept thru them all.

Gigi

I arrived in Roncesvalles with about 50 other people, all starting off their Camino from this well known starting point.

On the bus, I felt a bit nervous…everyone seemed to speak multiple languages and have traveled alot..the average age for those doing the Camino seemed to be about 55.

We arrived in Roncevalles, and it was so pretty that I couldn´t imagine leaving the very next day. It was green pastures, old stone buildings and walls, mist rising up over hills of green, cows and sheep making beautiful sounds with the rusty bells strapped about all of their necks.

There was, however, no real time to even look around, as we were all ushered off to the monastery, where we had to stand in line and then fill out paperwork for our Pilgrim Passport. It was a bit of a mad rush, everyone trying to get ahead of everyone else.

After out Passports, we had to walk to the Refugio, which was somewhat confusing for me. When I finally found it, I was greeted by an old man with a twinkle in his eye at the door, who explained all of the rules(of which there were many!). I wasn´t listening too much as I was sort of overwhelmed by the sight of over 200 people who were changing their clothes, lying in bunk beds, talking, laughing, sleeping…

The building itself was fantastic, a kind of magical medieval start to my Camino. A old converted sone barn, it soared to an incredible height. It had beautiful archways in the doorways, and it was amazing to touch this old, cold gray stone that had been hewn so long ago.

Once again, though, no real time to appreciate it, as I was told to go get my bed, and there were only a few left. Also, because I was younger than many of the other Camino ´ers, I was told I had to be in a top bunk. So I wandered down the narrow walkway between the rows of bunk beds, dodging  people who were changing their clothes and so on, and finally, at the end of the wall, round the last remaining upper bunk.

My bunk was in the corner, right next to the stone wall. It seemed perfectly situated, and I was quite happy with it..except for the man beneath me, who seemed to be napping, and unfortunately, storing away. There was no ladder or anything to get up into it, so I sort of had to swing myself up into it(somewhat easier than it sounds).

Once in the bunk, I just looked around at the scene. It was a madhouse-people going thru their packs;people changing and standing around in their underwear, in spite of people being less than 3 feet away from them; people unbandaging their feet(obviously had come over from France); people sleeping; people, people, people. I wasn´t expecting this-I´m not sure what I expected, really-but this seemed to me to be quite alot of mayhem.

Not time to observe too long, as it was announced that we were to go to the Pilgrim Mass in about 15 minutes at the church. Also, if we wanted anything to eat, we had to reserve and pay for our food at the restaurant down the hill before Mass. So off I went to reserve my place for dinner and then I went to Mass.

The church itself was really a very pretty little church, consecrated in 1219. It is one of the earliest Gothic monuments in Spain, and it was one of the first churches in Spain to have such large windows. It was here that the magic of the journey hit me, that I would be walking a walk that countless others had before me. The spiritual part of the journey was beginning-and I was glad, as up to now, it hadn´t seemed that spiritual, more like a rush to get there.

The Mass was lovely, and at the end, the priest blessed all the pilgrims in many different languages. After the Mass, I felt more comraderie with my fellow pilgrims, and I happily walked down the rocky street to the restaurant for dinner. I stopped for a few moments and enjoyed a spectacular view of sheep on a green hillside, mist rising up, the evening sky a beautiful violety-grey. Breathtaking.

I guess I stopped too long, for when I got to the restaurant, it was already packed with pilgrims, seated in groups at round tables. The waitress looked surprised to see me, and hastily seated me at one of the remaining places.

My dinner mates consisted of: two Italian men, who were very funny but spoke little English; an Englishman, who was an expat living in Spain, and who was very funny and knowledgable about the Camino; a young Australian woman, traveling on her own for the first time; two brothers from Argentina, also expats living in Spain; and a woman from Slovenia, whose life had been full of challenges in the past year, and had decided to do the Camino as an act of faith. I was seated next to the Slovenian woman, and we had a wonderful conversation about life, faith, and why we were doing the Camino.

Dinner was somewhat depressing-it was a ¨Pilgrim Menu¨, something one comes across often on the Camino, where a local bar or restaurant has a preset menu at a low price for pilgrims. Still, I was expecting something a bit different, since it was Spain afterall!

After our meal of wine, bread, fried fish and french fries, we headed back to the refugio that was to be our home on the first night of our journey. There was great happiness and comraderie between all of us, and, I for one, felt more connected to at least a few of the people I was spending the night with!

The refugios operate with the help of volunteers, who basically run the entire place. UPon getting back, we were told to be quiet by the volunteers, and to get ready for bed, as it was lights out in a few minutes time. I got ready for bed and then attempted to get into my upper bunk as quietly as possible, as the man below me was already fast asleep.

Strangely, although I was tired from my journey getting there and just all the new things I was experiencing, I couldn´t sleep. Part of this was due to the number of snoring people in the stone barn-there must have been at least 40 people snoring away. The stone building only made the snoring seem louder.

In fact, every single noise in the enormous room could be heard-whether someone rustling in their sleeping bag, or someone yawning. Actually, every bodily function could be heard. I couldn´t sleep, in spite of earplugs and an eye mask.

I finally fell asleep, only to be awoken by water on my face. Was it water? Was I dreaming? I sat up carefully and quietly, trying not to wake anyone near me. I felt my sleeping bag, by backpack, my clothes sitting beside me on my narrow mattress..they were all wet. I turned my flashlight on towards the ceiling, and realized I had chosen the only bed in the place beneath what seemed to be a very leaky roof. Aha! So that´s why it was the last bed in the place!

Covering myself with my raincoat, I eventually fell back asleep. For a few minutes, anyway-until woken up by the champion snorer in the place(Who I believe was one of the Italians at my table at dinner. He had said he had won snoring contests, and his companion had agreed he was the loudest snorer he had ever heard.)

The night continued on like this until morning arrived, and I gratefully got dressed and packed my things.

Although I would have liked to spend more time in Roncevalles, there was no time to do so. (There are many things of interest to look at having to do with Charlemagne and Roland). But, the walk ahead was long, and the weather was grim-no time to even eat something, just had to get going to get to the next stop in time to both get a bed and hopefully beat the coming storm.

I set off walking with the Australian woman and the Englishman from the night before, our goal being Zubiri, about 15 miles away.

gigi

What I´ve decided to do as far as writing about the Camino, is write it by dividing it up into parts of the route I am on.

This is the first entry of many…These entries may sometimes be solely informational(prices, how tos, etc) and other times, more spiritual, cultural, etc.

I landed in the Madrid airport in the morning of may 7th. I took a shuttle bus to the bus station (1 euro; find the shuttle station by heading out the exit double doors at the airport and walk to the right until you see the kiosk). The bus station was terribly confusing, and I did not find people in Madrid terribly friendly or helpful. People seem to be extremely preoccupied with their hair and clothes, and sort of sashay about, even the men.

I finally found out where to buy my ticket(3rd floor; take escalator), andf stood in line for quite a while. I bought a ticket to Pamplona (26 euros) and had to wait in the bus station for about 4 hours.

I was so exhausted and had jet leg and so on that I kept dozing off. Apparently this is against the rules in the bus station-especially if you doze off in a comfortable position, such as lying down. If you doze off sitting up, however, the police leave you alone. Food choices were somewhat limited-the best choice was the cafeteria downstairs. I bought a bocadillo, a kind of sandwich made from a baguette and some sort of salty ham and cheese. (I have been told I will be eating alot of these along the route, as they are available everywhere and are cheap and filling.)

I got on the bus for Pamplona in the afternoon-it took 5 hours to get there, with a few not so interesting stops along the way.

Once in Pamplona, I took a taxi from the bus station(follow the taxi signs to the kiosk; one will show up eventually) to the ¨Meson del Barro¨, a place suggested by a woman on the bus. (Taxi 4 euros)

The Meson turned out to have decent rooms, a decent bar with snacks, and a great location. In fact, it is a hostal used not by tourists, but Spaniards. (Single room 45 euros, with private bath and lovely view; dinner of snacks at bar under 5 euros). The rooms are not in the same building but all over the surrounding neighborhood, in different apartment buildings. It was nice and quiet. The shower was the hottest and best shower of my life!

Two days later, I´m heading off to the Cathedral de Santa Maria, built in the late 14th century, before heading back to the bus station to catch the only bus leaving for Roncevalles(which leaves at 6 pm, takes about 1 hour).

Once in Roncesvalles, I´ll go to the monastery to get my Pilgrim Pass, and then hopefully to the Refugio, with enough time for Mass and so on.

I start out walking tomarrow, and I plan on walking to Esteribar, about 14.42 miles.

How I´m feeling is a little nervous, wondering what it will be like. After being in the States for a week, I´m having a hard time getting my ¨travel focus¨back into sync with the rest of me. In the States there are many concerns and stresses, and I don´t want those worries to play into my experience of the Camino.

From what others have told me, this isn´t unusual. To take on this kind of journey, one must set aside many things.

I´m hoping I can really focus on the spiritual part of the journey without getting too distracted by more worldly concerns. This is one reason I am visiting the Cathedral today.

There are alot of people in Pamplona doing the Camino(easy to distinguish by our comfortable shoes and walking poles!) and everyone I have met has been incredibly kind. Advice abounds-some good, some not.

One thing is for sure, there are many ways to do the Camino!

gigi

I promised photos I know, I know.

But I just wasn´t home long enough to download all the photos, or to organize them all.

So I found an assistant in the form of my boyfriend´s  daughter, Jenny. Jenny has promised all 2,000 photos will be up within the next few weeks on Flickr. They will be up in slideshow fashion. You´ll need to scroll down on the right column until you see a link to my photos.

So please, readers..be patient. This is a huge undertaking!

Gigi

I´ve arrived in Spain.

The journey here was ardous, and I am very, very tired. When I finally made it to Pamplona, I decided to stay here for 2 days before heading on to Roncevalles, where I will be starting the Camino. I want to be well rested before starting such a long journey.

But, back to the actual getting here:

One plane from San Francisco at 9am; one plane from Atlanta at 6:30 pm; arriving in Madrid at 9 am the next day; waiting 5 hours for the next bus to Pamplona; a 5 hour bus ride to Pamplona; and then finally rest, in Pamplona, which has to be  one of the nicest cities I´ve ever been in.

The traveling here itself was event filled, and far beyond dull.

While waiting in the airport I saw 3 women looking at me rather curiously. What? I thought, are they looking at? It turned out that they worked for the company that made all of the clothes I have on, Athleta. They were all decked out in Athleta stuff , too. As their clothes are fabulous for traveling, and tougher than nails without looking like you are on safari, I told them how much I loved their clothes. They took my picture in the airport, modeling their travel pants…..So, women readers, look them up online.

Then as I got on the plane, I noticed all the tall, blonde people getting on. As I am tall and blonde, this seemed odd..until I found out the plane was heading to Denmark after Atlanta. Everyone thought I was from Denmark, too, and kept talking to me in Danish. They thought I was joking that I could not understand Danish…

My seat mates on the next two flights were engaging and funny-both of them two totally different people, yet somewhat similiar in personality:witty, irreverent and complicated. One of them wasa man on his way to see his mother in who was living in assisted living; othe other was a young woman on her way to Morocco alone.

When I finally got on the bus in Madrid to head to Pamplona, a spectacularly well dressed woman, wearing entirely red, was seated next to me, and I found out that the Spanish I learned in Central America was just fine for Spain(something I had been somewhat preoccupied with the last few days).

One thing that strikes me often is about travel is the way that one meets these random people who one would never meet. It´s always wonderful, eye opening, and a great experience.

The other thing that really affects me when I´m traveling with people I don´t know is how people share what are sometimes intensely personal things about their life. Maybe it´s because they may never meet you again, or maybe it´s just because you are the right person to share things with at that moment.

Whatever it is, is is such an act of grace and hunility to listen to others, to hear what they are saying, to smile, to nod, to be there-sometimes, to even encourage or advise. I become more aware of the experience of others, and more understanding that everyone´s life experience is totally different-so many  different ways to experience life. The human landscape truly is vast.

I also become more aware of the suffering of others-everyone, no matter how they may appear, is suffering, or has suffered. It seems this suffering is what brings total strangers together and creates these sort of otherwise impossible conversations and exchanges.

Those people who tell me stories about having these horrible seat mates on planes-well, I´ve yet to have one of those. I´ve always lucked out. But perhaps it is my perspective.

The woman on the bus, wearing red, was suffering terribly. She had just been diagnosed with cancer, again. She sported a butch haircut, her hair just growing out from her last series of chemo treatments. She was so put together, so perfectly mannered, that when she began telling me about herself and her situation I was somewhat surprised.

These conversations always start out with, ¨I have no idea why I´m telling you this, but…¨and then they move on into some inner part of themselves, where they are suffering terribly, or have suffered in the past.

After she told me about her cancer, I told her that not that long ago, I was very ill myself, and that I understood what she was going thru. But, I also told her that that illness was partly what moved me into new areas and adventures, and that a new life has come out of it. That I had always wanted to travel the world, and so on. Also that the big change for me after this devasting illness was to devote myself to giving to others: and, that I think this probably saved my life. I told her about some of my experiences I´ve had so far, volunteering around the world, and what a wonderful experience it has been.

The woman reached out and held my hand. We were both so moved by the others story, and we just sat there for awhile, just like that.

Then she asked me why I was in Spain. I told her that I was here to walk the Camino de Santiago. She asked me why.

¨It´s something I have dreamed of doing, something that would have been impossible for me not that long ago. It´s a spiritual journey for me, and a journey of thankfulness.¨, I told her.

She removed her hand from mine and said,¨We were meant to have met. It is not random chance that I have met you. I have a sense of hope I have not had for a long time.¨

She lifted up the sleeve of her jacket, and took off a bracelet, made of wood, featuring pictures of the saints, and put it on my wrist. ¨For your journey.¨, she said.

Then she asked where I was going next, wrote down the name of a sweet little hotel and nearby place to eat a quick dinner.

When her stop came, she hugged me, she  had tears in her eyes, she put on these enormous sunglasses. …and, perfectly polished, she disappeared.

I´ll never know her name, but I´ll be walking the Camino for her, as well.

You never know when you have entertained angels unawares…

Gigi

Ok, I’m going to say it like it is at this point: There’s some slight-ever so slight-panic setting in.

Tomarrow at 8 am, I’ll be on my way to Madrid, Spain. After that, I’ll be making my way to Roncesvalles, which will be my starting point for the Camino de Santiago.

I remember not so long ago, when I was preparing to leave for the Central American part of my journey, that I was a wreck. An, utter, complete wreck. Leaving friends, family, everything I had ever known for the adventure of a lifetime. It seemed so impossible, so vast…so much for me to take on at that point in my life.

Not surprisingly, I got used to travel pretty quickly..and stopped panicking about things that I could not foresee or control.Travel has made me a gentler, kinder, more adaptable human being.

This time around, there is that last minute rush to get all those little things I need…small tiny tube of toothpaste, a padlock, earplugs..and so on. And do all those last minute little things…like write this blog entry, call friends and family, say goodbye to my dogs and cat, do my laundry, go to the bank..and so on.

This time the panic(which is actually bordering on excitement!) is not about fears of not being able to do it, it’s just about all the little details needing to get done.

What a drastic change from the first time I left the States, when I was worried about silly things happening to me, such as getting sick(everyone does), getting lost(everyone does), and being homesick beyond belief(everyone does).

I’m packing-and repacking my bag to make my load as light as possible, planning on having some things sent to me along the way later on. I keep reading these warnings about not taking too much, and I’m trying to follow them. But since I’ve never walked 500 miles before, it’s hard to even think about packing. I’m more thinking about that I’m about to walk 500 miles, something I never thought I could do in my entire life.

But, frankly, I’m looking forward to it. Not only will it be a beautiful way to see Spain, it will be a deeply spiriual experience as well.

Maybe this time it’s a bit easier to leave my home because I know I’m coming back-I know this is where I belong, and that this lovely town of Winters, California is my home.

That just makes it so much nicer-both the journey and the returning.

Flight Information: SF to Atlanta tomarrow am No. DLO68

                                      Atlanta to Madrid tomarrow afternoon No.DLO108

Gigi

Anyone who has been reading this blog, knows I’ve developed a real love for the Ngobe, a group of indigenous people in Panama. What follows are the projects I have commited myself to working on. If you are interested in any of these projects, whether thru volunteering or what have you, contact me.

Before going into  specific details, I should say that some of these projects may take only a year, while others may take years. The Ngobe are patient and very understanding that positive change can sometimes take time. But they also understand that our world is different than their world, and they hope that if people become interested in the problems they are faced with that perhaps they will have a better chance of making some of their dreams happen.

Simple Suspension Bridge Project:

This project is a suspension bridge that will span across a river. It will be a simple, metal, suspension bridge, made for walking. It will have some additional components to make it easily accessible and safe for small children to walk across it(as young as 5 years old.) It will connect the isolated community of Cerro Iglesias with the larger, more central community of Cerro Limon.

Many people fall off the current “bridge”, a collection of tree trunks and bamboo/cane lashed together. It is extremely dangerous, and unfortunately, is the primary means of crossing the river for people needing medical attention(such as expectant mothers) and young children walking to school. Due to the fact that it is so dangerous, many families choose not to have their children go to school until they are older. When they finally are in school, they perform poorly and cannot keep up with the other kids. Additionally, because the bridge is so dangerous, it is impossible for health care professionals to cross the bridge to vaccinate children, so children die of many diseases which are preventable. Sick people and expectant mothers die without having access to any healthcare whatsoever.

I expect this project to cost about 12,000 dollars, and require tremendous manpower, as the location is isolated and the materials must be brought in by hand.

Medo, the organization I was volunteering with, is currently seeking nonprofit status, so my plan is to wait until they have nonprofit status, and then apply for grants or donations. This can be a lengthy process in Panama-or not. I think it will happen within the next year.

The local people are willing to hand carry everything up the mountain(using horses and manpower), and they are also willing to work on the bridge, build better trails on either side, and host the skilled volunteers neccessary for this type of project. 

To read more about the bridge proect and how it came to be, please read the ” Mountain Journey” series on this blog.

Partera House/Ngobe Women’s Health Center:

If you have read the previous entry interview about Dominga Palacio, you have a pretty good idea of what challenges the Ngobe women are facing in her community regarding pregnancy and childbirth. After talking with Dominga(and other midwives, as well as interviewing over 45 women about pregnancy and childbirth in the surrounding communities), I have decided to help these women by building a simple, two room building to serve as a birthing center/women’s health center.

The building will be conviently situated in the community of Cerro Limon, near a busy road that is used for the Ngobe to come up and down the mountain. It will be used by 5 midwives from the five surrounding communities, as well as any woman in need of assistance at any time.

The building will be constructed of simple wooden slats, and it will have a metal roof. It will have a cement floor, and it will have composting latrines on the property, as well as a line coming from the aquaduct. It will have two large rooms: one will have 1/2 divider, with two “private” beds for birthing and aftercare; the second room will be a waiting room for women waiting to have babies, and it will also be used a classroom for midwives and Western health care professionals to hold workshops and classes on women’s and children’s health.

The general idea of the project is to improve women’s health on the most basic level; increase awareness and improve nutrition during pregnancies;have a place where women can give birth to healthy babies; and lower the astonishing death rate of both women and newborns by implementing some very simple programs.

The cost of the building  for materials is  $1,000.

While visiting the communities where the facility will be built, I found a man who was willing to donate his land for the project. Actually, while I was there, he cleared the land and signed it over!

I also found a “foreman”, or project coordinator, who is Ngobe and lives in the community. He will coordinate the workers and materials for the project. He, and all the other workers, will build the facility for free, as volunteers.

Additionally, the surrounding Ngobe communities have agreed to build a comedor for the pregnant women, which is kind of like a open air kitchen/waiting house. They will construct this in the traditional Ngobe fashion at their own cost. This will allow pregant women and their families to have a place to cook, sleep, and wait, while they are waiting for the baby to be born. It will be near the center, but not right next to it, so that the women can have privacy while giving birth.

To understand on a deeper level the problems Ngobe women face regarding pregnancy and birth, please read the previous entry “Truelifeplanet Interview No. 5: Dominga Palacio”.

Women’s Cooperative:

This is a very simple idea, borne out of many meetings with the Ngobe women in the Cerro Limon area and surrounding communities.

The coop will be a coop of five different communities of women, who will each work at the coop during different weeks of any given month. The goal of this coop is to provide women with a sense of community and a place to meet, as well as a place to have free access to foot- pedaled sewing machines to make clothes for themselves and their children. Every woman will recieve enough fabric a year to outfit herself in one dress and each of her daughters in one dress. She will also make a certain number of dresses to be sold to other Ngobe women at a low cost, as well as one dress for a poor child who has no clothing.

The money made from the dresses sold will go to buy more fabric for the following year’s dresses, and, over time, they hope to save the money for a second building of the same style to use as a classroom. In this classroom they would have free classes for boys and girls about the customs, crafts, language, and so on of the Ngobe(which they fear will be lost).

Basically, it’s a large, rectangular, one room structure, made of wooden slats, with a dirt floor and a tin roof. Attached on to the building will be a small room for a watchman, and there will always be someone on the premises to make sure things are running smoothly. There will also be two composting latrines nearby.

The cost of the building will be $1000., which includes 8 foot-pedaled sewing machines.

The comedor(built near the women’s center) will also be used by the women’s coop.

The idea for this project is too create a self sustaining project that empowers young women and girls while teaching them simple skills(such as sewing) and encouraging Ngobe ways and crafts to be passed down to the next generation. Additionally, it will keep more girls in school-Ngobe girls often do not attend school because they have only one dress(or no dress at all).By having part of the program be about giving, and not just recieving, it becomes a real vehicle for positive change. A simple solution to a complicated social problem-and one that the Ngobe women thought of themselves.

The building will be built on donated land in Cerro Limon, which was officially donated while I visited the community 2 weeks ago.

The “foreman” mentioned above will also organize this project. The five communities participating will do all the work for free.

Computer Lab Project:

When I lived with the Ngobe, I spent alot of time in the community of Soloy, writing this blog on a computer donated by Microsoft and the Bahai. The lab itself is actually run by Ngobe Bahai ,too. Problem is, there aren’t alot of educational opportunities for Ngobe to learn about computers..and that includes the people who run the place.

As it’s the only place the Ngobe have access to computers, internet, and so on, for miles and miles, the lab has had tremendous impact on the life of the Ngobe-whether it be furthering their education or communicating with the world(no cell phones  and no electricity in the Comarca!).

Unfortunately, it’s full impact can’t be realized  since not many people know much about navigating their way around computers.

 What I would love to do is change that-get some people there, even if for short periods of time, who could clean up the software, make things run more efficiently, and train the workers(who are open to being trained, as well). Some general classes might be nice, too, just for adults.

The lab is located on a public secondary school’s property, but the lab is owned and operated by the Bahai.

What I’m hoping is that the Bahai International community can work with me on this project, partnering with the Bahai community in Soloy. Anyone interested? Computer whizes looking for adventure for a week in the wilds of Panama, this is your chance to shine!

Continuing to Help Medo:

Medo, the Ngobe organization I was working for for the past few months, has asked me to keep helping them in various ways.

I will be acting as the temporary secretary for Medo and fielding all emails and volunteer queries for the next 5 months. I’ll be doing this while on the road in various places, until the start of October (I’ll be in Calcutta, India at that point, and I don’t think I will have much time), when I’ll temporarily turn over the responsibility to someone else. Then when I return from my trip, I’ll pick up where I left off, and become their permanent secretary!

 I’m in the process of looking for other volunteers for them as well. During my visit, they experienced alot of positive changes, and they are more prepared to deal with volunteers now: they’ve got a great homestay program; they’re better trained about santitiation, water quality, and food preparation; and they are ready for skilled volunteers to come and help them in many different projects.

Working for Medo has definitely been the absolute highlight of my volunteering around the world experience. I got to live with a group of indigenous people few people know about in the world, and I learned more from them in 3 months than I ever thought possible.  I highly recommend it!

Once again, if you have any interest in any of the above, please contact me.If you contacted me before, please do so again. 

I would love to have many groups and individuals come together from all walks of life work together on these projects.

So…just changing the world, one step at a time.And loving every minute of it.

I’ll keep posting developments on this blog of any changes and blessings…

Gigi

Upon occassion, I come across someone in my travels who I believe is truly making a difference in other people’s lives. When possible, I interview them for this blog…..be forewarned, this is a long entry!

I realize that many young people under the age of 12 are reading this blog-please STOP reading if you are not an adult and have an adult read this entry first to see if they think it is appropriate for you. There are some things discussed regarding customs that some adults may not find appropriate for children. 

This is a combination of several interviews I had with a Ngobe medicine woman and partera (midwife) named Dominga Palacio. Dominga practiced natural medicine and served as a midwife for the communities of Cerro Limon, Cerro Iglesias, and other nearby villages in the remote mountains of Panama. I met Dominga when I organized a meeting for the local women to discuss what issues they were facing day to day, and Dominga was introduced to me as the woman would would speak for the entire women’s community. She is treated with reverence and respect by everyone, and after that first meeting, I knew I wanted to interview her for this blog.

Interviewing Dominga took finesse and alot of patience, as well as quite a few bowls of cacao and meals shared. Many of the questions I asked are considered very personal, and it is is not the custom for the Ngobe women to discuss childbirth or things about women’s health with outsiders. These topics are taboo even for the Ngobe to discuss amongst themselves.

Interviews were primarily conducted either at Dominga’s house in the mountains, or at a nearby family compound under a mango tree, during the months of April and May 2008.

Additionally, the result of the series of interviews I’ve had with Dominga is that I have decided to help her build a house for the local women to use for the purpose of childbirth. I will be talking about this project in another entry on this blog.

Thanks to Aida Bejerano Valacio, Dominga’s daughter, who is her apprentice, and was able to answer some questions that Dominga could not. Thanks to Liberto Bejerano, who served as a Ngobe translator, and also arranged the formalities and gifts so that the interviews could take place following Ngobe customs. Thanks to Carolin Hahn, who assisted in a myriad of ways.

Q.:What is your name and how old are you?

A.:My name s Dominga Palacio, and..(laughs) I am not sure how old I am! (She pulls out a Panamanina ID card and has me do the math..she is 61 years old.)

Q. How long have you been a partera?

A.About 15 years, I think…

Q.How long have you been a medicine woman?

A. I do not know exactly. For us, for women, this medicine of the forest is just something some of us learn. We learn it from our sisters and our aunts and our mothers. If the women in your family know, they will choose you to learn it as well. We learn it so we will not forget.

Q.Let’s go back to being a partera. Do the women or families pay you for your help?

A.No. They have nothing to give me.

Q.If they can’t pay you, then why do you do it?

A.Because I am a woman, and it is the work of women.

Q.Does anyone work with you? Are you training other women to do your job?

A.Yes-I am training my daughter, Aida. She is 30 years old.She has been learning with me[the job of partera] for 4 years.

Q.Tell me what life is like here for women, here in the remote villages in the Comarca…

A.It is a very difficult life-it is difficult from beginning to end. It is a hard life. We work very hard, we have many children, and we do not have any money to get the things we need.

Q.What age do most women here give birth to their first child?

A.Age 12.

Q.And how many children does the average woman have in her lifetime?

A.Normally, she has anywhere from 8 to 10 children, but sometimes more, up to 15 or so.

Q.What medical services are availible here and in the surrounding mountains?

A. Here we only have a few parteras, sukias[these are holy medicne men/prophets who can foresee the future], and the medicine of the forest.

There is a clinic in Boca Remedias [a steep, rocky climb about 1.5 hours away], and it’s a free clinic. But they never have any medicine, you cannot have your baby there. If you go there for help they will always send you to David [a city 5 hours away and then an additional 3 hour 4 by 4 ride].  we have no emergency care, no medicine, no doctors.

Q. When the women go to David to have a baby, what is the experience like for them?

A. Well, they have to get there first and they may not have any money to do that. When they finally get to the hospital, they have a bad time there.

Q. What do you mean, exactly?

A. Well, they don’t want to go there. It is dangerous for them to even get there-they walk down the mountain, then they get put in the four by four with many people, then they have to get to the public hospital, they have to walk there. We don’t have the money for that-we have no money.

When they get to the hospital, they don’t treat us well there. They treat us like we don’t know what is happening. They make us wait, we are very tired from all the walking and the traveling.

Q.Do they speak Ngobe at the hospital?

A.No, they speak only Spanish. So we are frightened , we do not understand what they are saying to us. They give us forms and papers and we do not understand what they say.[Most women from the mountains do not understand Spanish, although that is now changing, and it is being taught in public schools. Most women cannot read. Many have had very little education.]

Q. So can you tell me more about the experience there for the Ngobe woman who is going to have a baby?

A. Well, like I said, we are tired when we get there, we have been wearing the same dress for a long time. Maybe we have nothing with us but our chakra[a net bag] and another clean dress. There is no food left, and we haven’t had water for a long time. At the hospital, no one gives us food or water. No one asks us what we need. We just sit there and wait.

Then they tell us it is time to have the baby, and sometimes it is-and sometimes it’s not[she is refering to c-sections and enduced labor]. This part, it’s very different for us, because they make us take off all of our clothes. We never take off our clothes, our dresses, in front of people, not even our husbands.

Q.So this is very difficult for Ngobe women?

A.Yes, we can’t do it. It is so hard for us, it is humiliating. Then they bring in a man doctor, and that is so much shame for us, for a man to see us have the baby like that.

Q.After the baby is born at the hospital, what happens next?

A. Well, they send the woman home with the baby, sometimes that very day. She doesn’t stay and rest. They give the baby the baby clothes, they give her some things for the baby. The mother eats something. The woman has to go all the way back home, she has to come up with the money to get back. Then she has to walk back up the mountain, too.

Q.Doesn’t her family come with her?

A. Maybe she would bring her sister, her daughter. Maybe she would have her small children with her. But no, she would probably go alone, how would she be able to pay for all those people? She has nothing. Her husband would not go either. Maybe he has to work, maybe he is with the rest of the family. But also our men see childbirth as a thing for women, the world of women. They do not want to see it and we do not want them to see it either.

Q.To go back to something you said earlier, about “being told it is time to have the baby”, I just want to make sure you are referring to c-sections?

A.We call that “the knife”. They tell us they have to use the knife on us because we are not big enough to have the baby, but we do not think this is true. It is not our way, to cut open. We have a hard time having a baby again after the knife is used on us.

Q.Well, so that’s how it happens in the hospital. Now let’s talk about how it is in the mountains. Do the women here all use a partera?

A.Sometimes she does, if there is one living near her. But- most of the time, someone sends for us and we walk to her.

Q.When you get there, what do you do?

A.We do everything. everything. We clean everything, we clean the house and the bed and her clothes, we cook special foods for her…we make sure the children are not there, maybe with other family or a neighbor. There should never be any men around, either.

Q.This may sound like a strange question, but since the houses are so small-only one single small room-how does she have any privacy to give birth? Won’t people hear her and see her?

A.Well, people will hear her, yes(laughs). But normally no one will see the birth, or even the process, because that’s only for the mother, and maybe a partera or a female family member. It is not something for people to see. It is the secret life of women.

Q.Does the woman always give birth in her house?

A.No, sometimes she gives birth alone in the forest. Maybe she has no place to send her children, and her house has too many people in it. Maybe she has no one to help her. Then she gives birth alone.

Q.Do you think that is dangerous?

A.Well, yes..because if she has problems, she will die, the baby will die. No one will know where she is, and no one will hear her cries. She will suffer.

Q.So, let’s go back to what you do to help the expectant mother. What things do you bring with you?

A.[She shows me a blue medic bag] I use these things, these things I learned to use when I trained at the clinic. They give me these things when I need it sometimes, otherwise I buy them with my own money. [cotton gauze, razor blades, hand pump, and a few other very basic supplies].

Q.Do you use Western medicine?

A.Yes, when I can get it. But I have to buy it with my own money, so I can’t use it very much.

Q.Do you use natural medicine? Traditional medicine of the Ngobe?

A.Yes, we have to use many things we have here in the mountains. We collect many things from the forest to help the mothers with problems…we make a special tea from berries, bark of trees, and leaves and this helps the baby come faster. We have a medicine for if the mother is very tired. We have a medicine to make her strong. We have a medicine to clean the blood. We have a medicine to help her rest. We have a medicine so that her dreams are pleasant.

Q.I am interested in knowing what the birth process is like, what you do, what is the process here in the mountains?

A. Well, first, when we get there, we pray. And, we sing songs. Then we make the tea with plants from the forest, then we clean everything. We have to put clean fabric on the bed, if she has any. and we clean her clothes. We bathe her, we keep the water hot and boiling. We talk to her, we soothe her, maybe she is afraid, but we calm her. When the birth starts, we keep doing all these things, we keep nursing her, helping her, making her strong so she can finish. We make her special teas, we wash her with special things, and we pray alot. Then afterwards, we clean her, we clean the newborne, we tell her how to take care of the baby if she doesn’t know. We don’t leave rght away, we stay with her for a few days, we make her special meals and so on, we do all of her work so she can rest.

Q.Let’s talk about the problems women have in childbirth here. Can you tell me some of the problems that are most common related to childbirth?

A.Well, she may be very tired, too tired to have the baby…her life may be very hard, maybe she has not eaten much food or she has worked too hard. We have to make her strong to have the baby.

Sometimes she is trying to have the baby for a long time, for many days. Sometimes 3, 4 days. One woman recently took 7 days.

Q.Seven days? That’s a long time…Did she live?

A. Yes, she lived but she lost alot of blood.

Q.So, let’s talk about that problem-when the mother loses alot of blood.[I take out a copy of the book, “Where There Is No Doctor”, and show her a drawing of a woman hemmoraging] What do you do when this happens?

A.Well, she will only live if it is a miracle. Usually, she dies. We have nothing to help her. When this happens the baby also dies.

Q.What about when the woman is too small to have the baby? Does this happen often?

A.[Aida, Dominga’s daughter breaks in to answer] We don’thave that problem, the Ngobe women, we are made for babies.We walk up and down the mountain from a young age, we carry our brothers and sisters, we work in the field, we do not complain, it is our life.

    [Dominga answers] Well, now, yes, we do have that problem, Aida. Especially if the woman is very young, she is 12 years old or younger, and it is the first child. We have nothing to help her, and she will die. This happens alot.

Q.[I am very nervous about asking the following questions, and so tread delicately around them hoping not to offend]

What if the woman doesn’t want the baby?

A. Well, then the woman would give the baby to someone else in the family who wants it. We love children, and so it would go to someone.

Q.I don’t want to offend you, but what if the baby is born and it’s not perfect? What happens, des the mother want it?

[One thing that I had noticed with life amongst the Ngobe is that I had never seen a single disabled child. I had never seen a deformed child, a blind child, a child who could not walk, or any obviously mentally retarded children.I had occassionally seen a child with an eye problem, or who children who had autism or fetal alcohol sydrome, but little else. In a culture where food shortages were not uncommon, daily life is hard and physically taxing, health conditions are poor, and conception during alcohol consumption(chicha de maiz) is not uncommon…where are the children who resulted from these pregnancies?]

A.[Silence.] well, do you mean if the baby doesn’t look normal, what do we do?

Q.Yes.

A.The mother will not want it. She will not want it, she will not keep it.

Q. Will they give it away?

A. [Silence.]

Q.In my country, it is not unusual for a woman do give up a baby she cannot care for or who is different.

A. Ah, we are the same here. but here, the baby will die.[Unless in the hospital in David, where the baby will be given up.]

Q.Who decides that,the the baby dies?

A. The mother. She decides.

Q.How does the baby die?

A.Suffocation.

Q.Are babies born often with health problems here-or with the kind of physical issues that cause the mother to have to decide this difficult choice? What if the mother decides no, and wants to keep it?

A.There are many babies born with problems. We are very poor, we have nothing. The mother will always decide to not keep the child, she cannot afford to care for it. Also if the child is born deformed or with problems, it shames the mother, because in our culture it is the mother’s fault if the baby is born this way…it means that she worked too hard, she did not eat the right foods, and so on. It is her fault.

Q.Do you help her in this task?

A.No, no, we do not. we might help her afterwards, she might be ill, and so on. but we have nothing to do with it. We are only there for the mother, to care for her, to make her well and strong. Sometimes she is trying to have the baby for days and she is exhausted, she has nothing. And then she doesn’t have a child. It’s so hard.

Q. What are your dreams, our goals for the women of this community?

A. My dream is to have a house built just for the midwives of the area and have several rooms in it with beds…so women can come and wait there to have their babies. I would have it very clean, I would have a place for them to wait, and a place for them to be afterwards. They would not have to walk down the mountain.

I would also have a room, where I could have classes about nutrition and prenatal care, so we would have healthier mothers and babies. I would be able to help them all the way thru the pregnancy, instead of just the birth part. They could visit me and I could know how they are doing. I would work with other midwives so it would be a cooperative.

Q.Dominga, thanks so much for answering all these questions. You are really a remarkable woman!

A.The honor is mine. I enjoyed taking about our ways very much with you.

If you are interested in hearing about building the center for women that Dominga was talking about, … it will be in the next entry. I found someone to build the buiding, I found someone to donate the land, and I priced out the materials. Stay tuned.

Gigi

I arrived back in the USA about a week or so ago. Exhausted from a series of long layovers, nutty flights, and feeling overwhelmed by the bright lights of airports, I was relieved to arrive in California.

Then culture shock set in, and I have found myself trying to acclimate ever since…

So many things seemed so different to me here-especially after spending more than three months in the jungles of remote Panama, with no clean drinking water, no bathrooms, no showers, no electricity, no phones, not many food choices, and living among the poorest people of Panama.

Some of the things that affected me (and are still affecting me!) are…

1. Enormous Beds…and being able to actually sleep in a quiet environment!…

The first night back, I went to my parents house on the Northeren California coast. A beautiful home, with a small guest house next door. That is, it seemed small to me in the past. This time around, it seemed to be enormous. All this space for just me?

The large air mattress in particular seemed enormous. Eight Ngobe could have comfortably slept on it. It was so perfect, that air mattress, that I could just lie there without moving-there was no shifting around. It was so different than a bed of sticks or a flat board, or a mattress so delicately perched on a hastily made frame that every shift creaked and groaned.

 It was so quiet, I couldn’t sleep-their were no pigs tied up outside my window, grunting thru the night. There were no kids crying or coughing. There were no people listening to the radio thru the night. There were no pesky scorpions to be alert for-and actually, no creeepy crawlies at all. Sleep came slowly, and I ended up falling asleep at 2am and then sleeping thru mid afternoon.

2. Food…

After living on a very small selection of food choices for months on end, such as yucca, green bananas, white rice, salted dry meat, and the occassional granola bar/peanut butter combination, the food choices were overwhelming. My  first foray into a local food coop was alarmingly nerve wracking. So many choices, so many things to decide. All so beautifully displayed, like jewels. Everything perfectly clean and seemingly devoid of ever having been touched by human hands.

 I was used to buying my bananas right from the banana guy, after a hike uphill, and then carrying the enormous bunch back thru the village, giving some away to hungry kids as I walked home. Here, bananas were so expensive I could only buy one banana, covered in chemicals, for the same price of 20 organic bananas in the Comarca. 

I found it impossible to not buy loads of vegetables and fruits, something my body had been craving for months. The Ngobe do not eat many fruits of vegetables-the few that they occassionally still eat  are considered foods of the past, and the culture is moving away from the past into a white rice future, devoid of neccessary nutrients. I couldn’t resist oranges, grapefruits, argula, kale…

Walking past the meat counter was an assault to my senses-cases of perfectly laid out meat, endless meat. Where I lived just 2 days before, people butchered the cow at about 4 am right out in the yard, sold it to their neighbors, who let it hang from tree branches for a few days. (In fact, I watched this process several times, and even participated in killing a cow at one point.) After the meat hung around for a few days, inviting every friend and foe to feast on it from the parasite world,  it was was then salted and then fried in hot oil, and you got a tiny tough piece with a bowl of rice or yucca. When you could get meat, that is. Here, people were buying more meat in one shopping trip than the average Ngobe family could afford for months.

3. Stuff, and more stuff…

Um, how much stuff do we really need again? Answer: Not much. I mean, it’s great that we have everything we do, but we don’t appreciate it. We don’t get it. We just want more. More choices, more more more. Enough said. I don’t want to lecture about something that everyone knows already. Personally, I find my old ways a bit embarassing-what in the world did I need all that stuff for? Everytime I buy anything, I am affecting the entire world. What a shock to realize this, and then to return home where we fill our houses, cars, and so on with tons of unneccessary do- dads.

4. Reduce, reuse, recycle….

#3 leads me to this logical conclusion, and adopting it on a grand scale is one of the present principles of my life.

I have to say that before my trip, I wasn’t the most environmentally concious person-Oh, I tried, but I fell off the wagon alot. And you’d think after living in countries where the environmental degradation, the pollution, the trash, the deforestation, I’d be hopeless about the measly contribution of me recyling my spagetti sauce jar can actually make.

Surprisingly, instead it’s made me grasp how important and vital it is that I contribute whatever I can to cleaning up the world and making it a healthy and sustainable place. I really have grown in this area alot and I understand that it is up to me to make the difference-whether its driving less, living in a smaller, simpler space, growing a small garden, or using solar power.  This means buying less-much less, and leading by example, hoping it will affect some positive change.

5. The absolute, sheer joy, of being a woman living in a Western culture….

After months of living with people who are so conservative that women must bathe fully clothed,  the thought of an Ngobe woman being examined by a doctor is enough to have her be totally mortified, women wear full length to the ground dresses everyday, and begin having babies a age 12, it’s a real pleasure to do the following….

wear pants;

 walk around late at night;

talk to men without hearing comments that insinuate I am having more than a friendship with them;

talk to other women openly about their lives;

encourage young women to have big goals and be in a position to lead by example;

and , most importantly , know that I have the possibility to be or do anything I want to do.

These things are simply not possible for the Ngobe women I lived with-and nor is it possible for the majority of women in the world. It’s joy, complete bliss, to be an American woman. Something I never fully appreciated until now.

6. Going into temporary hibernation….

Feeling a little overwhelmed by the cultural differences, and a little underwhelmed by what is important sometimes to people back at home, I’ve found myself in somewhat of a limbo state, temporarily hiding out and not seeking out alot of social interaction.

 Oh, everyone is really nice, very sweet and all that, but after you’ve been where I’ve been, it’s hard for me to talk small talk. Talk to me about a 12 year old dying in childbirth, talk to me about your worries that your whole family has parasites and are sickly, talk to me about your dreams for your children to go to secondary school if you scrape together the money….those are the kinds of conversations I was having daily just a few days ago. From that to everyday pleasantries-it’s kind of hard sometimes.

5. Joining the around the world traveler’s club…

You know, I’m different now, and I’m not even done traveling yet. I’m so different that I can talk about things that most people know nothing about.

Stories about boa constrictors and scorpions interest me, someone mentioning that they have lice seems perfectly natural(doesn’t most of theworld have lice some of the time?) , hearing of difficult journeys and failures, as well as sucesses, seem like normal everyday conversations to me.

Unfortunately, this does not hold true for most people, who are overwhelmed if you talk about killing scorpions or doing battle with dengue fever. I’ve realized that unless the person is truly interested, it’s better to just not say much about my experiences. Better just to smile and nod and say, ” Yes well, I am having some culture shock, but it was a good trip. So how have you been?”  It’s better to just find that point of commonality.

I’ve now joined a club I never realized existed…the club of people who when they meet, recognize each other as world travelers and gratefully, blissfully, lapse into telling stories of their adventures and calmly listen to travel trials without any shock whatsoever.

6. What’s really important, anyway?…

Wow, people spend alot of time getting frustrated or angry about things that are…kind of not things that seem particularly important anymore….

 Like stoplights and slow drivers and waiting and people being different than you and not sharing your opinions totally and things not being perfect 100% of the time.

I’ve just come from a place where nothing was perfect, ever. Not once.

Whatever I wanted, I usually couldn’t get because for whatever reason it was impossible.

Whenever I had to wait, I just waited, because that is how it was.

Hardly anyone ever agreed with me, and in fact, it was impolite, and completely taboo, to point this out. Disagreement(or arguing) amongst the Ngobe people is not a cultural pastime, like it seems to be here. Here its I’m a this, and you are a that, so we aren’t ever going to get along. This would be so impossible for the ngobe, who must get along to survive. Perhaps we could take a cue from this for our own survival as well?

Just appreciating life, and all I have, is what is about for me at this point. My God, I am so lucky, so completely blessed, that I don’t feel as though I can complain about all that much.

 Discomfort, hunger, and so on have been such a part of my everyday reality that the shower running out of hot water, or someone running late doesn’t seem to bother me all that much.

 It just seems so small in the world of things, and perhaps that is because my world is so much larger at this moment than it ever has been.

Gigi

Leaving the Comarca in Panama and flying home was crazy. Things are so  different once outside of the Comarca.

In the airports on the way back, I found myself overwhelmed at the clothing people wore, the amount of food people consumed, the bright lights, the mall-like atmosphere, the sparkling clean bathrooms, the busyness of people, the amount of stuff people were buying in the duty free shops.

On my various flights back, I found myself amazed at my ability to adapt to the opinions and beliefs of my seat mates, who were all from interesting walks of life. They included a Christian couple, who lived in Panama City, and who I ended up spending the afternoon with in Houston over glasses of wine and oysters; a cage fighter from the Southern States who was working on a land/resort deal in Panama; a woman who was returning from Central America after a failed adoption; a Wycliffe Bible translator returning from Brazil;a man who sold guns(I think you call this job “arms dealer”) ; and most interesting of all, a Bahai man who lived in San Francisco and was returning from a nice vacation with his elderly dad.

The Bahai guy was fascinating. After a four hour layover with him, I knew more about the Bahai faith than I had learned living with the Ngobe for three months(many Ngobe are Bahai). What an interesting history this religion has,and what a fascinating presence it has in the world. It seems the Bahai are up to much good in some very remote places on Earth. I’m glad they are sharing the planet with me.

Interestingly, when I was living with the Ngobe, many of the Ngobe told me they were Bahai, but their understanding of what the Bahai faith is differs alot from what I have recently learned. In Soloy, the Bahai have built a very beautiful temple, and it is so pretty it is the nicest building in the Comarca. They have, with the cooperation of Microsoft, donated and manage a large computer lab which is open to the public(the only internet connection in the Comarca!). so, there is no doubt that they are up to good things, in a community where pretty much there aren’t alot of good things happening.

However, after talking to him, and doing some independent research on my own, I feel like I have to make a correction on my blog. This is a first!

So, when I was in the Comarca I spent alot of time with Bahai folks. Probably one quarter of the people believe in the Bahai faith. When I asked about their Bahai beliefs, everyone told me they were Evangelicals. So I wrote that on my blog.

But actually, that is not accurate. I think the reason the Ngobe say this is that they have different definitions for many words than Western culture. They may say they are Evangelical because in Ngobe culture an Evangelical person is seen as a person who is good. Everything is so simple in Ngobe culture, and that is alot different than in my culture where there is a constant quest for pointing out differences which is sometimes diguised as establishing clarity.

In Ngobe culture, especially since the most recent flood of missionary activity, it has become important for people to find commonality, and people will often ask one if they believe in Jesus. Say yes, and then commonality has been established. Perhaps what you believe about Jesus is not all that important, more that he lived and so on. Specifics of your belief are not required, as most people do not read or do not have a deep understanding of particular belief systems-although, let me be clear, that this doesn’t lesson their belief. For example, visit any religious service, whether it be Assembly of God, Catholic, Manatada( a religion that was started by an Ngobe woman in the recent past), or even Bahai, and you will find many of the same songs sung. There is much singing, and not much reading from any specific text.

So basically, it’s all about just getting along for the Ngobe. Which is kind of nice, I think, especially since I am from a culture where sometimes it seems like we practically strive to point of the differences between ourselves and others.

What a nice lesson to learn from the Ngobe: all men are brothers. Strive to find what you have in common with your fellow man. Such a non Western idea, and such a difficult concept for us to grasp coming from our cultural perspective.

Try it for a day. Just walk around doing whatever you do with your life, and instead of dividing people up into categories, just approach every person looking for commonality. You’ll find yourself quickly astonished just how much you have in common with people you never expected, and you may just learn to appreciate the vast variety in the human landscape a little bit more.

A special thanks for this valuable lesson learned to the beautiful Ngobe people of Panama, and also to all my seat mates on planes and long layovers who helped my put this into practice. You are all my brothers.

Gigi