The Coffee Gods Test Me Once More
To my fictional fans, I apologize. On Wednesday we found out where we are assigned to live and work, and I had planned to write immediately after, but celebration ensued and blogging did not. Peace Corps made a big deal of the whole presentation, showing us old Peace Corps commercials, even JFK's original address about the founding of Peace Corps. I was damn near getting choked up until they flashed a clip of our current remedial president drawling about the importance of Peace Corps to the mission of world peace. Killed my buzz. Oh, well.
Without further ado, I am going to a town called Cerro Iglesias (church hill). If you're looking at a map, and mom and dad I know you are, it is east of David, just north of Interamerican Highway. Cerro Iglesias is in the Comarca Ngabe-Bugle, which is equivalent to one of our Indian reservations. The Ngabe (no-bay) are the largest of the few remaining indigenous populations in Panama, and the majority live in this province. Cerro Iglesias isn't that big, about 500 people, but the coffee cooperative is there, so the town is somewhat of a hub for the surrounding communities. I'll be working with the cooperative, helping with basic business practice (which I know nothing about). To keep this from getting too boring, just a few more details in easily-skimmable bullet points:
I'll have cell phone reception, running water (10 out of 12 months), and no electricity.
I'm only a 45 minute chiva (pickup) ride from the main highway, which hopefully will make it easy to get in and out. But the chiva only runs every two hours.
The people there speak both Spanish and Ngabe, so I've started taking Ngabe classes. It is hard. Really freakin' hard.
I'm excited. I wasn't at first, not nearly as much as those who ended up on the beach, but I've heard really good things about Cerro Iglesias.
As I mentioned in the title, I am again being tested by the coffee gods. First, I manage to not drink coffee despite having an addicted mother who left mugs of lukewarm coffee in various places throughout my childhood. College, with its long nights of studying, and nary a sip passed my lips followed by a smile. Now, I am sent to a coffee growing region. Be strong Adam, be strong.
In other news, the hard part is over. The first four weeks of training are done, we now know where we're going, and we spend the next two weeks on the road. We have been split up into smaller groups and are set to spend a week at a site that resembles our future home. I'll be living with a Ngabe family in a really small town called Las Nubes (the clouds). The next week will be in Rio Sereno, close to the Costa Rican border, for more training. The thing is, I want things to be hard, and I expected them to be so. But hard in the bucket shower sense, not the bureaucratic bs sense. And I think most of that is thankfully over.
My sandals suck. Of everything here in Panama, that perhaps has bothered me more than anything other single thing. So I'm going to dedicate some blog space to it. My sandals, they've got no traction (obscure Sgt. Bilko quote for the brothers, if anyone else got it, kudos). It's not the bottom of the sandal, but rather the top, whereupon my foot rests. Anytime it's wet or muddy, which is everyday, my foot slips out of the sandal, especially when I attempt ascension. Gentle reader, the next time you purchase sandals, make sure that there is adequate traction not only on the bottom but on the top as well. That is the best advice I can offer.
Last story: On Thursday it rained about 5 inches in two hours. It was incredible. To get to our technical classes, we have to cross a small creek, but on Thurday, it had swelled to a river. At one point the water was higher than the bridge and we had no choice but to wait for the water. Trapped. It was cool. I didn't have my camera that day unfortunately, so all I have is a picture of the bridge and creek on a normal day. I'll try to get a picture of the inundated bridge from a friend.
Here, on a normal day, you can barely see the creek and might wonder why the bridge need be so high. Below, it's more clear.
Without further ado, I am going to a town called Cerro Iglesias (church hill). If you're looking at a map, and mom and dad I know you are, it is east of David, just north of Interamerican Highway. Cerro Iglesias is in the Comarca Ngabe-Bugle, which is equivalent to one of our Indian reservations. The Ngabe (no-bay) are the largest of the few remaining indigenous populations in Panama, and the majority live in this province. Cerro Iglesias isn't that big, about 500 people, but the coffee cooperative is there, so the town is somewhat of a hub for the surrounding communities. I'll be working with the cooperative, helping with basic business practice (which I know nothing about). To keep this from getting too boring, just a few more details in easily-skimmable bullet points:
I'll have cell phone reception, running water (10 out of 12 months), and no electricity.
I'm only a 45 minute chiva (pickup) ride from the main highway, which hopefully will make it easy to get in and out. But the chiva only runs every two hours.
The people there speak both Spanish and Ngabe, so I've started taking Ngabe classes. It is hard. Really freakin' hard.
I'm excited. I wasn't at first, not nearly as much as those who ended up on the beach, but I've heard really good things about Cerro Iglesias.
As I mentioned in the title, I am again being tested by the coffee gods. First, I manage to not drink coffee despite having an addicted mother who left mugs of lukewarm coffee in various places throughout my childhood. College, with its long nights of studying, and nary a sip passed my lips followed by a smile. Now, I am sent to a coffee growing region. Be strong Adam, be strong.
In other news, the hard part is over. The first four weeks of training are done, we now know where we're going, and we spend the next two weeks on the road. We have been split up into smaller groups and are set to spend a week at a site that resembles our future home. I'll be living with a Ngabe family in a really small town called Las Nubes (the clouds). The next week will be in Rio Sereno, close to the Costa Rican border, for more training. The thing is, I want things to be hard, and I expected them to be so. But hard in the bucket shower sense, not the bureaucratic bs sense. And I think most of that is thankfully over.
My sandals suck. Of everything here in Panama, that perhaps has bothered me more than anything other single thing. So I'm going to dedicate some blog space to it. My sandals, they've got no traction (obscure Sgt. Bilko quote for the brothers, if anyone else got it, kudos). It's not the bottom of the sandal, but rather the top, whereupon my foot rests. Anytime it's wet or muddy, which is everyday, my foot slips out of the sandal, especially when I attempt ascension. Gentle reader, the next time you purchase sandals, make sure that there is adequate traction not only on the bottom but on the top as well. That is the best advice I can offer.
Last story: On Thursday it rained about 5 inches in two hours. It was incredible. To get to our technical classes, we have to cross a small creek, but on Thurday, it had swelled to a river. At one point the water was higher than the bridge and we had no choice but to wait for the water. Trapped. It was cool. I didn't have my camera that day unfortunately, so all I have is a picture of the bridge and creek on a normal day. I'll try to get a picture of the inundated bridge from a friend.
Here, on a normal day, you can barely see the creek and might wonder why the bridge need be so high. Below, it's more clear.
posted by Adam @ 10:24 AM
2 Comments:
At 5:52 PM,
Anonymous said…
Ngack! All I can say is: it's about time. Why are you so reticent to indulge in the nectar of the black love god? Many a recent scientific study has championed a daily cup of said tarwater as cardiovascularly healthful. So enjoy the fruit of Juan Valdez's competition while you still can... besides, how do you expect to help the brown people sell their filthy wares if you refuse to partake? If you were my Peace Corps student I would execute you point blank and request a replacement... whose first assignment would be to hack up your body and send the pieces to the volunteers on "beach" assignment. Just to fuck with 'em. bwahahaha.
So here's the fine print-- Take a lesson from my buddy Harrison Ford, circa Clear and Present Danger: in the coffee business, you gotta have some grinds on you before anyone will trust you... or something like that.
At 11:23 AM,
Anonymous said…
What a great adventure you have ahead of you. Helping economic development in Panama. Of course, there is a lot of history in the area too.
Are there many ruins in Panama?
What I find most interesting is that, feeling as you do about the leader of the free world, you are now nevertheless working directly for him!
The better you do, the better he looks...I love it.
About the sandals...uhhh, you know, sandals can be a problem in any rural area. Looks like you will be loosing your city-slicker ways sooner than later.
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