PCMI Panama

Muchas gracias a todos y todas

2009-12-25T22:16:00.006-05:00

I've been back in the United States for "más o menos" two months and it has taken me this long to figure out how to compose a closure statement for this blog.

"The End" or "Bye-bye" or "So long and thanks for all the ..." well, I certainly need to fill in the blank and at least post something.

Could be that a long list of scrolling credits is appropriate because the Peace Corps experience hinges on more than one character, more than one mentor, more than one friend, "pues, digamos mucho apoyo, sí?"

But I imagine that those people I would mention would just roll their eyes, so I think I will keep this post simple, avoid singling people out, not wax poetic, and finish.

39 Days

2009-09-05T20:51:00.006-05:00

With so little time remaining in Panama, what can you expect?

For starters, last-minute photo opportunities:Also, last-minute Baru fieldwork:

Final trips to the grocery store:

And... well, there simply isn't anymore time for anything else.

The Inauguration Party

2009-08-07T03:01:00.006-05:00

We set the date 4 weeks ago and on Sunday, July 26th we celebrated.

The Aqueduct Project of Quebrada Mina is officially closed. The hard work of planning, designing, constructing, and trouble-shooting is over. The community has a sound water system, the Committee has new responsibilities, and there was a lot of food and chicha (dulce) to celebrate it!

Every family contributed several pounds of rice, chicken, celery, potatoes, carrots, garlic, coffee, sugar, and ... to prepare all of this, no one had to carry a single jug of water up from the river.

A lot of cooking and cleaning needed to be done to get ready - that included everyone and everything!

The celebration began with formal words from the Water Committee. The Master of Ceremonies, Secretary of the Directive, Miguel Mora introduced all of the speakers and provided closing remarks:

The distinguished guests: the PC director of the Environmental Health Sector, a neighboring volunteer, a visitor from the States, and of course, Beligo Kudobu shared praise and enthusiasm for the water feats and community achievements. Thanks to Tim, there are great photos to share as well!

And before the meal was served and the dancing began, the Committee had some gifts to administer to the Peace Corps Volunteer:

Did I just say there was dancing? Oh yes; don't let them fool you, the Ngabe have a great sense of style and appreciate Tipico as deeply as Americans do Rock-and-Roll. The dancing, plus the party favors and chicha, lasted until dusk, when we simply ran out of light to see where to put our feet.

Great party!

Water v.2.0

2009-08-05T21:57:00.004-05:00

Quebrada Mina Update:

Water!

2009-07-13T17:38:00.011-05:00

We've had several weeks of great weather and lots of enthusiasm to finish the aqueduct system. The main line and all of the house connections are buried now but the most important news is that water is flowing. No air blocks or problems with the flow of water; every house has water running through the faucets. The volume of water is also excellent - the rainy season is well underway (and will grow in intensity until it hammers the Comarca full-force in October).

I anticipated this blog to include photos from the inauguration party... but that is scheduled for July 26th. So here's a photo-update of the latest work.
Line 2 stretches away from the tank dipping down between the mango trees. Where the slope rises up to Saturnino's house, we've installed a reduction to transition from a 2" to a 1.5" line. Out of view is the summit of the tallest hill lying between the tank and the last house and the point where the 1.5" reduces to 1" diameter tubes: the bulk of the system depends on 1-inch lines.

There has already been talk about where some new houses will go, so tees have been strategically placed along likely connection points. This futuristic outlook is a healthy sign that the water committee is considering how it will accommodate changes once the system is inaugurated. It is a critical time to train the community and committee because now the point is to transition ownership from me (the volunteer) to the committee. They will be their own service provider once I'm gone.

Only 2.5 meters below the water tank, Milton's house is located at an important bend in the mainline. Just like we connected the long Line 1, we stopped at mid-day and conducted the anticipated "prueba de agua." It's sort of like an after-lunch surprise... Here is the result:The answer to the question was:
Yes! Yes, there is water running here!

I was mostly worried that there hadn't been enough time for the pvc glue to dry - but after the anticipation to know for sure if the hill summit was going to stone-wall the flow, we were all happy to see that water was gushing to through Milton's patio only 15-minutes after the main valve was opened up.

We bought some expensive cable (total of 300ft so a relatively pricey investment) to use where the lines cross dry and full-running quebradas. These are delicate points in the system and also points of head-loss, so it was a great photo-op when we saw the last house connection:
Just 2 days later we connected the short, 1/2" line to a faucet. Now Milna's house, the last on Line 2 has was flowing plus an emergency clean-out valve.

What drives all this hard work?
Goodwill? Goalsetting? Need? Enthusiasm? Curiosity?
Well, yes, those things count. But also... food!

So what work remains?
Now we're in the trouble-shooting phase.
There are still some valve boxes to construct, threads that need more teflon, another layer of white cement for the tank, and applying some text: "Quebrada Mina, abril 2009" to the tank face.

Soon, there will be inauguration photos to share: I promise!

Project: Aqueduct

2009-06-07T18:51:00.010-05:00

We´ve entered the final stages of construction:

2 Springboxes [Check]

1 Water Tank [Check]

3 Suspension bridges [2 ya hecho]

2000 Feet of trenches [1/4 ya hecho]

1 Inauguration Party [pronto]

-------------------------[to be continued]-------------------------

Peace Corps in the news - LA Times

2009-06-06T19:46:00.005-05:00

Jose Abrego / For The Times
Alexandra Hodgkins, left, of New Hampshire and Yemiymah Yisrael of Chicago are volunteering with the Peace Corps in Santa Fe, Panama. Yisrael extended her stay.

More Americans turning to Peace Corps

With President Obama extolling the volunteer agency as an exemplar of public service and U.S. diplomacy, applications have jumped. The idealism is tinged with pragmatism, amid joblessness at home.

By Chris Kraul
June 2, 2009

Reporting from Santa Fe, Panama -- Peace Corps volunteer Alexandra Hodgkins couldn't be farther from her comfort zone here in Panama's Darien jungle: coral snakes, sauna-like heat and, just a few miles east up the Pan-American Highway, marauding Colombian rebels.

But the 25-year-old New Hampshire native wants a career in international development, and she figures a couple of years helping this poor community find permits and financing for a medicinal soap business will be invaluable experience. It also feeds her passion for public service and projecting a positive U.S. image.

Peace Corps in Panama

"This is a good way to test whether this is what I want to do," said Hodgkins, who was a community organizer in Boston before she joined the Peace Corps in October. "I like the Peace Corps approach of working with communities, not just giving out presents right and left."

With a mix of idealism and pragmatism, increasing numbers of Americans are turning to the Peace Corps. Some, like Hodgkins, see it as a training opportunity at a time when job prospects at home are bleak. Others have been inspired by President Obama's campaign call to public service, and his frequent mention of the Peace Corps as a good vehicle for volunteerism.

At his commencement address at Arizona State University last month, Obama said the Peace Corps was an American institution that shows "our commitment to working with other nations to pursue the ideals of opportunity, equality and freedom that have made us who we are."

Peace Corps officials credit the "Obama effect" for most of the 25,000 Internet requests so far this year for "starter applications," up 40% from last year.

That's on top of a 16% increase in completed applications submitted in 2008. A new wrinkle to the flood of application requests is that 7% of them are coming from people 50 or older, up from the typical 4%, says the Washington-based organization.

Even as some government programs are being scaled back because of the global financial crisis, the Peace Corps' budget is getting a boost from Obama. If Congress approves the proposed 9% increase in the agency's 2010 budget, the number of Peace Corps volunteers, now at 7,876, is expected to rise.

"We are just skyrocketing in applications," said Peace Corps acting director Jody Olsen, who expects the volunteer ranks to grow significantly this year. "Obama represents what Americans really want to be asked to do. We want to hear how important service is, whether it is domestic or international."

These are good times for the Peace Corps, which was founded by President Kennedy in 1961. It has had its ups and downs, peaking at 15,000 volunteers in 1966 and hitting a low of fewer than 5,000 in 1982.

"It's refreshing and uplifting to witness this sort of outpouring of American idealism again, particularly after the U.S. reputation has suffered such setbacks as Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo," said Bruce Bagley, a University of Miami political science professor and a Peace Corps volunteer in Colombia in the late 1960s.

Olsen said 20 countries that have no Peace Corps presence have asked for volunteers, with specialists in farming, English teaching, and HIV/AIDS and hygiene awareness the most in demand. The requests reflect the agency's proven effectiveness, she said. But budget and logistical restrictions mean that most requests will not be met.

On a positive note, the Peace Corps is returning to Rwanda, Liberia and Ethiopia for the first time in a decade or more. Here in Panama, the number of volunteers has steadily increased to 160 from 100 five years ago, said country director Peter Redmond. He said the upturn was due in large part to the fact that the country values and seeks volunteers.

But the final number of volunteers the U.S. sends out will depend on whether Congress passes Obama's $380-million budget request for the next fiscal year.

It's not a slam dunk. The program's cost-effectiveness has been a source of debate over its 48-year history, with some critics contending that the Peace Corps is a form of "developmental tourism" and that some volunteers at times drift aimlessly in their communities during their two-year tours.

U.S. diplomat Dale Maki disagrees vigorously. Maki is a former Peace Corps volunteer in Chile and is now an agriculture advisor at the U.S. Embassy in Panama. He said volunteering benefits the United States because it "develops leadership and puts a good face on the U.S. out there."

In addition to scores of former volunteers who, like Maki, have gone on to join the U.S. foreign service, five are members of Congress, including Democratic Sen. Christopher J. Dodd of Connecticut.

Charles Goodsell, a Virginia Tech professor emeritus who is writing a book on the Peace Corps and other government institutions, said the critics are wrong.

"The Peace Corps is very hard work. It takes a lot of creativity to be effective in often lonely circumstances and where the tasks are not perfectly outlined," Goodsell said. "In fact, the whole idea is that individual volunteers not show up with prepackaged plans but find out what the locals really need."

Santa Fe resident Marcelina Noriega says that's what Hodgkins did, helping her cooperative cut through red tape and the application process to get a $20,000 United Nations grant.

Now the cooperative has its sights set on setting up an iguana farm to sell the skins and meat. "She has helped us do things we had no idea about," Noriega said.

Yemiymah Yisrael, a 26-year-old volunteer from Chicago who has spent three years in Santa Fe teaching composting techniques, extended her stay partly because of the lousy economy back home.

"Several volunteers who have gone home have advised me not to because it's so difficult to find a job," said Yisrael, who has her eye on a career in international health. Before the Peace Corps, she did carpentry work with Habitat for Humanity rebuilding hurricane victims' homes.

Not that the Peace Corps is lucrative: Hodgkins and Yisrael are paid about $320 a month, just above Panama's minimum wage.

Hodgkins said she gets discouraged at times by the delays and paperwork required by the Panamanian government.

"But if you keep an open mind and try to understand the culture," she said, "then you can do what you came to do."

Source:
http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/world/la-fg-peacecorps2-2009jun02,0,2239945.story
Kraul is a special correspondent.

Anniversary

2009-05-18T16:36:00.009-05:00

29 Years Ago

---------------------------------------------------Description of Mount St. Helens' 1980 events

http://vulcan.wr.usgs.gov/Volcanoes/MSH/May18/MSHThisWeek/intro.htm

Project: Aqueduct

2009-05-15T09:13:00.014-05:00

The rainy season has held off and, thank goodness!
The window of unexpected weather allowed the technician and community work teams of Quebrada Mina to construct the foundations of the new water system. We had 4 weeks of relatively rain-free weather and now there are 2 spring boxes and a beautiful 3,000 gal tank to boast about.
Mixing concrete in the shade - maybe the better task to have! The massive tarp we bought to protect our work from "aguaceros" served better as it offered the shadiest and coolest place to be during the hot afternoons. Better to mix than to pour!

Of the 23 households, workers cycled through the week to be sure that each day there were at least 4 assistants available to help the technician with construction.
Nicolas pours the marginal base of the water tank - a multi-step project that later involved much rebar and cement blocks.

And the springboxes? For our purposes, "box" is a misnomer. With water seeping out of the friable clay soil from "qualquier lado," a concrete box would do little to protect the spring quality and natural flow. Our technician has devised a way to channel and cap springs that seep and often wander - the result is a concrete-and-rock mosaic with snorkels.

The Before:
Miguel Mora looks on as I point out: "Here, here, and here are places where water is trying to flow - this is good! Our mud has a lot of water in it!"

The After:A professional springbox model: note the paucity of mud.

The next few weeks will be busy with water line connections and trenches to dig. Give us a few more weeks and we'll be "pau hana," "ya listo," "done and dusted," and "all set" to celebrate the end of the grand water system project. More photos will follow!

Tribute to Earth Day

2009-04-22T23:45:00.005-05:00

No matter where your corner of the Earth is, no matter what niche you fill, a day or an extra minute to remember "what home is" means that we haven't used up the moments or the days when we can do something to keep it safe.

More Earth Day info and news:
http://action.edf.org/ct/-1aaeCY1xSaQ/

"Rocky" Crandell

2009-04-21T13:40:00.004-05:00

Obituary
"Rocky" Crandell, a giant in Northwest volcanology
Legendary Northwest volcanologist "Rocky" Crandell uncovered Mount Rainier's menacing past and warned of Mount St. Helens' eruption.
By Sandi Doughton
Seattle Times science reporter

When newly minted geologist Dwight "Rocky" Crandell was assigned to map the Puget Sound lowlands southeast of Seattle in the early 1950s, conventional wisdom held that the landscape was shaped mainly by glaciers.
But the sharp-eyed Dr. Crandell began filling his notebooks with observations of what appeared to be deep layers of mud underlying towns from Enumclaw to Auburn. Over several years, the U.S. Geological Survey (USGS) scientist tracked the mud to its unexpected source: High on the flanks of Mount Rainier.
The evidence Dr. Crandell and his partner, Don Mullineaux, pieced together proved the volcano's summit had collapsed 5,600 years ago, unleashing a landslide so massive it flowed all the way to Puget Sound and filled nearby valleys with a slurry up to 400 feet deep.
The realization that such an event could happen again, with hundreds of thousands of people now populating Rainier's fringes, shaped much of Dr. Crandell's subsequent career.
He and Mullineaux pioneered the approach used today to evaluate the hazards posed by volcanoes. Two years before Mount St. Helens' 1980 blast, they warned that the restless volcano was primed to erupt. Before and after the eruption that claimed 57 lives, Dr. Crandell and Mullineaux worked around the clock in shifts to brief public officials, from then-governor Dixy Lee Ray to President Carter.
Dr. Crandell died Monday (April 6) of a heart attack at a hospice in Wheat Ridge, Colo. He was 86.
"He really was a giant in the field of volcanology in the Pacific Northwest," said Dr. Crandell's daughter Jane Crandell Monserud, of Seattle.
Dr. Crandell collected rocks as a child in Illinois, but he didn't get the nickname Rocky until his first college field trip in 1941. He was a lieutenant in an Army mortar platoon in Germany during World War II and earned a doctorate at Yale after the war. His first job was with the USGS office near Denver, where he was based throughout his career.
Before Dr. Crandell's work on Rainier, no one realized the picturesque volcano had such destructive potential, said former USGS volcanologist Dan Miller, who started working with the fledgling volcano team in the early 1970s.
Miller credits the breakthrough to Dr. Crandell's skill for geologic observation and his open-minded way of considering all possible explanations. "It was a brilliant piece of detective work."
While Dr. Crandell and Mullineaux were scouring rural Pierce County for evidence of Rainier mudflows, they began to find puzzling layers of volcanic ash that they eventually traced to Mount St. Helens. They embarked on a detailed study of the younger volcano's violent past, resulting in a 1978 report that warned of a likely eruption within the next 20 years.
Miller spent time with the two veterans at their field camp on the shore of Spirit Lake, where days began with a dip and ended with gin and tonics under the stars. The hours in between were grueling. "Rocky was a consummate field geologist," Miller said. "He was willing to hike miles and miles to get to an outcrop, and go back day after day."
Most early volcanologists only paid attention to hardened lava flows. But volcanoes can also spew ash clouds, rain chunks of rock and let loose mud flows and the searing mixtures of gas and rock called pyroclastic flows. Dr. Crandell and Mullineaux mapped all of those deposits, giving birth to the field now called volcanic hazard analysis, which looks at everything a volcano has done in the past to predict how it's likely to behave in the future.
"That was really Rocky's idea," Mullineaux said. "It's now used around the world, but when we were making the first map, nothing else like it existed."
As a result of volcano-hazard mapping, several valleys downstream of Mount Rainier are now equipped with mudflow-warning systems. Some cities restrict development in vulnerable areas, and others hold regular evacuation drills.
Dr. Crandell and Mullineaux drew some criticism after Mount St. Helen's cataclysmic eruption. A few victims' families claimed the USGS scientists didn't press hard enough for larger exclusion zones.
But the boundaries were set by public officials, and there was scant indication in St. Helens' history that it would explode with such fury, Miller said.
Dr. Crandell retired a few years after the St. Helens eruption, partly to make way for young scientists. But he continued to do unpaid field work for another decade.
After his wife, Marion, suffered a brain injury in an automobile accident, Crandell devoted much of his time to her, said his daughter Margie Robinson, of Wheat Ridge, Colo. Mrs. Crandell died in 2004. Two years ago, Dr. Crandell visited Mount Rainier with his daughters to scatter her ashes. They also made a stop at Mount St Helens' visitor center.
Rangers and staff came from across the park to meet the man whose work remains the bedrock of volcanology in the Northwest.
"You should have seen the commotion," Monserud said. "Dad was greeted like a rock star."
In addition to his two daughters and their husbands, Dr. Crandell is survived by three grandchildren and one great-grandchild. His son, Tom, died in a river-rafting accident in 1965.
A service will be held April 18 at Jefferson Unitarian Church in Golden, Colo.

Source:
http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/localnews/2009016972_crandellobit10m.html

Fieldwork, continued

2009-03-31T17:43:00.016-05:00

The driest I've ever seen it:
In this view, Volcán Barú has a few clouds gathering around the summit but otherwise there's hardly a breath of moisture in the air. The intervening "hummocks" in the fore-and-middle ground are dusty and brittle grass covers the slopes. But this weather won't last long. Despite how brutal the Death Valley-like weather is for hiking and traversing the campo, I'm not looking forward to the polar opposite: knee-high mud and drenched notes.

In anticipation of the winter rains, I've packed in 2 weeks of fieldwork... más o menos. A modified Debris Avalanche map has come from this as well as many new outcrop descriptions and field photos. Should I post the new gritty details? I don't think I have time and it might not be as interesting to read as it would be to type. But regardless, I'd like to share some of the most interesting photos from last week.I haven't spent a lot of time on the Rio Chiriqui Viejo, but each time I visit it, I'm never disappointed; there is always something interesting to see. This time, I saw Squirrel Monkeys (thanks for the correction Holly!). Maybe I've seen these small, masked critters in photos, but never live, in the wild. This view shows 3 of them playing in a tree high above the riverbank. What the photo doesn't show is the object of their game: a white, black-speckled bird of prey that was circling the tree.

Aaaah, the benefits of a good zoom, here's a portrait of a member of the trio.
Southeast of the Rio Chiriqui Viejo are several other rivers. An important one figuring into my mapping project is the Rio Divalá. While there might be a few small families of Squirrel Monkeys close to the Pacific coast, there are MANY clans of Howler Monkeys. I've spent more than a year in Panamá and I've hardly seen so much wildlife so often - the following photo was taken AFTER the howling began.

Have you ever heard anything like this?

The following photo isn't mine, but I wish it was. There have been so many times when I've seen a Blue Morpho butterfly - whether out of the corner of my eye or disappearing into the shadows - that it is starting to drive me crazy. These are beautiful marvels, something you can't observe wild in the USA and yet, every time I see the flash of blue, there is never enough time to pull out the camera and focus in on the insect. These butterflies are just that fast. Like the day I spent walking the upper reaches of Rio Piedra: I saw the Blue Morpho in the shadows, immediately dropped my backpack to the ground, pulled open the drawstrings, unzipped the camera case, pressed "Power," and... the butterfly was gone. I even ran into the trees looking for it and, nope, sorry, "ya se fue," I couldn't find it with my naked eye, never mind the camera lens. But to represent it's presence, I'm using this photo from: http://www.yesnet.yk.ca/schools/wes/webquests_themes/butterfly_lucille/butterfly_species/morpho/index.html

Oh, I'll keep trying - I'll keep looking out for those beautiful wings. Besides, it's flashing my favorite color and few things can wear blue so nicely.

Project: Volcan Baru

2009-03-18T16:18:00.002-05:00

There are often surprises in the field, but this one had nothing to do with rocks. Within the river valley of Rio Escarrea, this blue-crested motmot was hiding from the afternoon sun - well, the sun as well as intruders... like me!

Project: Volcan Baru

2009-02-21T14:08:00.010-05:00

A 5-day visit with volcanologists...

The adventure shed light on the far corners of the field while also establishing a scope for the project. While new questions cropped up during the trip, the theme never changed:
What is going on with these debris deposits?!

What we were looking for:
Multi-colored, buried blocks that explain the insides of debris avalanches. Within massive quarries, road and stream-cuts, and construction sites, the presence OR absence of these features provides information about composition and energy.

Textures, when volcanoes fall down, particular things happen to the rocks: fracturing, shattering, shearing, disaggregation... that is to say: busted up. Something we're seeing at the distal end of the deposit is jigsaw fracturing. Not every block is like this, but by now I've seen enough of these to link it with the mixed-up phase of the avalanche. This photo is an example, rock hammer for scale.

Topographic clues, despite the estimated age of the events, the topography still tells us something about the past - and adds a few more questions to the whole picture, but it's no good to ignore the hints given by aerial photos, digital elevation models, topo maps, and panoramic views. There is a 20-square kilometer area that is dissected by erosion and abruptly becomes high, rolling plateau - why?

Carbon samples, wood or charcoal or bulk soil samples that can date or at least constrain the timing of events. As far as I'm concerned, finding 7 samples within a 5-day visit is as good as it gets for a debris avalanche.

Contacts, we were lucky to gain access to the largest construction site I've seen in Panama. A new dam is going in on the Rio Chiriqui Viejo - I learned that there could be 10 more built sometime in the future, interesting... Here, the excavation is cutting so deeply that we saw both debris avalanche material and the underlying bedrock exposed within the same view. Construction workers looked like specks and whether they knew it or not, they were pointing out the unit base for us - thanks guys!

Places like this will be worthwhile to revisit. This kind of construction requires incredible excavation, in the river valley as well as further away where quarries appear to provide gravel for all of the concrete needed to stabilize the slopes.

The 5 days were a success - we have new information and ideas about Volcan Baru's debris avalanche deposits. Also, there was time to talk-story with friends and enjoy the best sunset spot I've ever seen in Panama.

Vacation

2009-02-21T14:00:00.003-05:00

The first official vacation - hooray!

Beginning in the La Fortuna National Park and ending in Bocas del Toro, I promised not to use words like: composting latrine, aqueduct, or pasear for 7 whole days.

Now THAT'S what I call a vacation.

Challenge: Return to the Summit

2009-01-12T16:58:00.013-05:00

After hiking up the trail from Boquete, I reached the summit of Volcán Barú after 6 hours of walking in the dark. Thankfully, there was no hail storm to greet me at the top, just breezy mountain air, a couple of hikers, and the fantastic views that I (and my last hiking buddies from the year before) had missed last Christmas.

Almost stumbling to the summit cross, I didn't feel a spark of excitement, more-so there was a feeling of release. After the disastrous trip from the previous year, the return-trip had gone smoothly and yet the overwhelming sensation was: peacefulness.

I had started the hike at 11:30pm, a taxi dropped me off at the National Park entrance. I had left behind the drizzle of the bajareque and the starting elevation (roughly 4,000 ft) put me above the valley clouds. With a LED headlamp and a full moon above me, I hiked for 6 hours (maybe more like 6 and a half) up the long, 14-km trail.

Unfortunately for me, the wonderful ¨Flower Festival¨ of Boquete happened to be starting at the exact time when I arrived to begin my hiking adventure. I regret the timing, not because I don't love coffee, not because I don't love country fairs, but because I couldn't sleep worth a damn to prepare myself for an all-nighter, hiking toward the stratosphere.

When the trail passed the Los Fogones camping area and then snaked up to the observatories and radio towers, blasts of cold air hit me from the North. The sudden shocks helped clear my head from the strange LED-induced tunnel vision, the dreaming- yet- not- quite sentient awareness of shadowy rocks that resembled animals from moment to moment, and general fatigue. I was shivering and rickety as I finally found an outcrop enticing me to take a seat.

I picked a wonderful nook in the rocks and this is what I saw:

It was roughly 5:45 am and the lights from Davíd were multicolored and festive from this elevation (11,400 ft or 3.5 km). The moon had just set and the stars were still bright. I was sitting next to one of ANAM's buildings and wondering just how long a sunrise would take... not that I wasn't happy to hang out at the summit, but I was down to one last water bottle, feeling tired enough to sleep on the spot, and feeling cold enough to wonder if my knees would splinter to bits if I stood up too quickly.

I spent 15 dark minutes photographing the summit observatory area while the sky brightened. Then it was time to make the final hike up to the benchmarked summit.

There were already 5 people there: 3 Panamanians and 2 Germans. There is a stark-white cross at the highest point and unfortunately, a fair amount of graffiti on the dome rocks. But the sight wasn't completely marred, some rocks showed beautiful, curving dacite, small flowers sprouted inches up from the gravelly hollows, and then there was the view.

There were clouds moving in from Costa Rica and from the Caribbean Sea. The sun wasn't quite above the horizon, but the pre-dawn light allowed a wonderful view of the Sea and the Pacific, of Costa Rica's mountains and Panama's Cordillera: "then" the sun came up.

A perfect triangular shadow appeared behind Volcán Barú against the blue Costa Rican backdrop. The yellow light touched the highest peaks and warmed up the grayscale views. The details of the world below 10,000 feet became fuzzy and then, suddenly everything was clear and brightening from the anticipated sunrise.

To my delight, the little hills around the small town of Volcán were alight, individually touched by the sun. For anyone paying attention, little hills anywhere near Volcán cause a knee-jerk response:

Hills? Oh, you mean hummocks? Oh! I wonder if I've been there yet!

So it was fun to see my study area, my field of hummocks lighted and already identified. That was when I decided it was time for a self portait with my subject:

The Panamanians were glad to take the photo and in turn, I photographed them - but all of us were struggling to stay still for the shots, we were still shivering from the cold.

The view to the North was quickly filling with clouds, but the Bocas del Toro coastline was clearly marked by the pale-blue sea. The view East had the dramatic Cordillera and the direction of my little community within the Comarca Ngabe-Bugle. Boquete was visible just behind the crater rim and to the South the lights of Davíd had mixed with the sunshine but the Pacific coast was well-lit and the long point of Burica Peninsula shot out into the ocean like a breakwater. To the West, the congestion of Volcán was roped in by the Río Chiriquí Viejo and the distant blueness beyond represented Costa Rica's mountains.

It was also gratifying to stare into the gulch of Barú's crater. The surrounding peaks fit into my mental map of lava domes and the dark ring further away was the bounding wall of the most recent failure - the debris avalanche scar that was currently muddling my brain with thesis questions.

I only spent an hour and a half up there, at the peak. I knew my energy would continue to leak away and it would be better to find a warm rock somewhere below 10,000 ft where I could snooze for a while.

So I took one last photo from Panama's rooftop and wished the other hikers well (some of them had actually pitched their tent on the neighboring dome next to the summit - their little tent must have been blowing like a windsock last night, completely exposed to the 4 Winds). Then slowly, like a timid abuela, I inched my way back down to the observatory area. Once back down to the main trail, I put one foot in front of the other until, after 2 hours, I had to stop - I hadn't even crossed the first "moat" that is, left the domes and reached the crater rim. It was sometime around 9am but at least I was below the tree line. Birds were singing, the wind hardly moved the mossy tree branches above me, flowers were glowing in the sunshine, and so I found myself a nice warm rock.

I fell asleep for roughly an hour, I can't remember exactly now... but several hikers were passing by when I realized that I felt more hungry than tired. After snacking, I continued the descent: crossed from the last dome to reach the crater rim, from the rim back into the domes, then across the ¨moat¨ to the rim again, and then descending, descending, and descending for hours.

I stopped by the Park Entrance, paid the visiting fee ($3.00 for residents) and then didn't stop walking until I reached the Volcancito parada to wait for a bus - around noon I was dropping off to sleep again - this time in a soft hostel bed that was just as comfortable as the sun-warmed rock I found above the clouds.

I am happy to report that the trip was successful, I enjoyed every view along the way, I was never actually hit by rain, there was no fear of frostbite, I took many photos, I am not afraid of volcanoes in the dark, and my feet are still attached even though my shoes now need much ShooGoo.

Happy Holidays!

2008-12-26T14:01:00.004-05:00

As it turns out... Christmas in the Comarca is not so bad.

I admit that it's hard to send "best wishes" to everyone, especially to those I miss the most, but to all the friends, family, jefes, mentors, and yes "Group 60" -

Merry Christmas and Happy 2009.

Project: Volcan Baru

2008-12-02T14:38:00.009-05:00

This is just a quick update - quicker than normal.

The research I plan on doing based on Volcan Baru is progressing, just as it has been since I arrived, but NOW it's time to actually blog about it.

After a year spent in-country and focusing on Peace Corps activities, the hardcore geology work is now ready to take center stage. That is to say, when I'm not juggling aqueduct and latrine construction, I am hiking (or bicycling as it may be) out to my field area to map a volcanic deposit.

The fieldwork has already begun and I'm not joking about taking a bike, my research area is huge and there is a lot of ground to cover. Where am I working? Here:

(The USGS map shows 3 shaded areas: blue is Volcan Baru's ediface, brown is the lahar flow field, and in green is where I am working: the debris avalanche deposit, DAD. The original paper where you can see this map and the full explanation is here: http://pubs.usgs.gov/of/2007/1401/)

How do you map a DAD? The primary features I'm focusing on are the hummocks, already deeply burried by thousands of years of lahar flows, but with a little help of aerial photos and lots of time spent "hoofing it" - I'll be able to map out the extent of the region and hopefully gather enough information to explain how such a large-scale event occurred and when.

More fieldwork should have happened in November, but renewed construction in-site and VERY bad weather changed my plans. During the week of the 16th a major storm system approached Panama's northern coast. A huge cell of rain (is that correct to say? maybe it's better to say "cells") moved in from the Caribbean and sat over the shoreline dumping rain and rising winds. Rivers were flooding, small streams graduated to rushing highways of mud, landslides covered major roads, bridges were damaged, houses were washed away, fincas were drowned, and unfortunately, some rescue efforts failed.
(Photo by Angel Rodriguez; road to Cerro Punta; Rio Chiriqui Viejo)

(Photo by SINAPROC staff; aerial view of flooding in Bocas del Toro, Nov. 16-30, 2008; http://www.sinaproc.gob.pa)

Formal report here: United Nations report

PC Volunteers were evacuated where possible, in some cases it was better to ride out the storm than cross the bay of Bocas del Toro, but it's going to be difficult for many of them to return to their sites.

Good luck you guys!

Project: Aqueduct Design

2008-12-02T13:48:00.006-05:00

We're ready to go! The Water Committee of Quebrada Mina has finished the final phase of planning and surveying, so we're ready to write proposals and look for some funds.

Over the last 13 months, the committee has been meeting with me and poco-a-poco gearing up to construct a water system that will provide for 23 families. Qda. Mina isn't far from my Calabazalian's, so it has been easy to visit them and plan out how we can bring water to this little Ngabe village.

The final surveying of the area has just taken place: several days were needed to measure everything. For instance, a full day was needed to measure the path of the water lines from the springs to the potential tank area; another day was needed for the primary main line while another was needed for the second main line branch; even more time was needed to figure out how we can get PVC tubes to run up and down and around a sizeable hill... hmmm, by now it's already December... I'm glad the survey is finally done!
(Here's the view after crossing over the hill, the "Problem Hill" that is causing us to talk about shared "plumas" for three of the nearby families. In this view, you can see a clearing in the middle ground, that's where the final house lies: down, around, and up the rise.)

There were several volunteers that stopped by to help the surveying go smoothly. Jess Mehl COS 2008 and Steve Russo G60 helped out early on and got things going (and debated with me the merits of an Abney level vs. Water level - no winner yet!). Later, Kaitlin Green joined me for a day walking with Miguel Mora and a small team, yes, still using the Water level.

Eventually I did use the Abney level to re-measure the primary main line. This was important to get an idea of how much error we are really dealing with in elevation. The large hill toward the end of one of the lines is just too high for comfort, so I was careful about the numbers.

Ultimately, I decided not to cross directly over the summit. We can reroute around the lower flank and reach the final cluster of houses but this means 3 families will need to walk 2 minutes down to a shared pluma. It will be interesting to see how they work this into their lifestyles - currently they hike 5 minutes to a "pozo" that dribbles water below a sharp, slippery drop below the homes. I hope they will see the new design as an improvement!

Thanks for providing the photographic evidence KK! These photos were taken in September '08 while the "aspirante" visited for a week. For sure, I wasn't the only one thrilled to have some one new to talk to :)

Project: Composting Latrine

2008-11-10T18:29:00.007-05:00

This is it!

We are setting a deadline. I told my community members (those active in the current project) that the latrines must be finished by December.

The composting latrine project has been limping along for 7 months and before we lose all of our sand again or before I lose my mind, we will now focus on "goal-setting."

How close are we? Very close, so close that it is painful to see so much construction and yet no grand finale.

Here's a view of Latrine #1 - the first of the four:
It's true that Latrine #2 is waiting for penca for the walls (the family doesn't want to cut wood or the material before the right season), so in reality, both Latrine #1 and 2 have come a long way. But #3 and #4 need a lot of work. There is still mixing to do and pvc to connect for #3, but at least the stairs are already finished. I should include a photo of just how lovely they came together, an artistic mix of block and river rocks.

Latrine #4 has been a tragic epic poem. The original family was in and out of the community and rarely available to communicate. Eventually, the decision was made to seek out a new family with which to work. Denying a family a project is a delicate matter and after 2 more months, we smoothed out who will get the latrine. Currently we have moved all of the materials to the new site, now we are prepared to start construction and we still need to level out the ground where we will begin throwing the slab and blocking. We've got a lot to do!

To illustrate better, here's a view from Jess Mehl's project in the community north of me. Jess is in turquoise and I'm in kahki, we're working with 2 of my guys from Quebrada Mina.
This "pilot program" began with great enthusiasm and I think it can end that way. I'm still optimistic that things will go well once people see the construction-phase finished, only then we can begin the "interesting" part of this project: maintaining a composting latrine and seeing the product from "the box."

Update! Former Peace Corps Volunteer Jessica Mehl completed an in-depth study of the compost resulting from this style of latrine. Go here for the full report: Pathogen Destruction and Aerobic Decomposition in Composting Latrines: A Study from Rural Panama

Cultural Differences

2008-11-10T17:35:00.006-05:00

Throughout Central America, it is a familiar sound. “Sssssst” When I hear this, I imagine an angry pet owner about to yell. “Sssssst” will make the dog or cat flinch or take its paws off the table. Where I grew up, people say: “Sssssst” when an animal is misbehaving.

Why do I hear this while walking in the city? This noise doesn’t come from pet owners, it comes from random guys in the streets – often construction workers. What does this sound mean? For anyone who hasn’t been to this part of the world, or to Panama at least, it is well-understood that men and boys say: “Sssssst” when they want your attention – a girl’s attention.

I can’t remember the last time I heard a girl “Sssssst” someone, I think it was in a grocery store and a lady wanted to talk to the cashier…

What are the responses to: “Sssssst”? Well, there are very few options as far as I’m concerned. On bad days, you might yell: “Callete!” on a good day you might not respond at all, on a mediocre day you might grimace without turning around, on a very bad day you might walk faster and throw your finger in the air without looking to see who’s been ssssssing.

There really is no good response if being “whistled” at like this bothers you. For me, depending on the day, the spectrum of response is between: angry or “ho-hum” regarding this Latino phenomenon. So after practicing for a year, trying to adjust and accept this behavior, my rule is “no response, ever.”

On November 5th I was walking to the laundry mat in Davíd city – I was getting ready to pack up and take a bus back to site. I passed the construction area that had now thankfully been cleaned up and finished, this part of town has seen some new buildings sprout up. I was almost to the laundry place and had just passed an auto shop when I suddenly heard: “Sssssst.” It had been a good day so far, so ignoring this was no trouble at all; I kept walking without breaking stride. Then I heard: “Sssssst, Obama campeón.” This stopped me; I stopped and turned and saw 3 guys smiling from the depths of the garage. Suddenly realizing that I had broken my “no response, ever” rule, I smiled back.

Okay, I thought to myself as I continued, quickly on my way, fine, they got my attention... this time.

September Success

2008-10-03T14:11:00.010-05:00

Rice harvest in Quebrada Mina:
When I think of Miguel Mora, I think "aqueduct," but when his wife invited me to help with the rice harvest, I got a new view of the committee member.

The grandmother stayed behind, she was already busy "toasting" yesterday's rice and the younger children kept her company - I think the worker crews are also determined by how many tools there are. Harvesting rice is one of the few jobs that doesn't rely on a machete - we needed special "cutters." These are really just wooden dowels with a rubber band and a box-cutter blade, and they're perfectly designed for the work.

We hiked up into the campo to get to the field - halfway along the trail to get to the promising water tank area, ah-ha!

The rice was planted along the steep hillside that faced south, toward the Pacific coast, offering a lovely view as we began to work. Every few paces, I bumped into a stalk of corn, just about ready to be harvested as well. Higher upslope the corn crop was more densely planted, hmm... I think Miguel has been working with planting strategies.

We began the work fairly late, it was 10:00am when we took positions in the field. Even after helping Joselina and Ovidia, I still can't determine the work pattern. I've asked everybody, "should I work to the left, to the right, or straight uphill?" and the answer is always the same: "Wherever! Just collect what you see!" And then I try to respond with: "But aren't you continuing to the right, so I should continue up that way, you have a row and I have a row?"

These conversations always end with armwaving - waving "qualquier dirección." Okay, I'll just work where there's work to be done.

I decided to take what photos I could immediately, Miguel had already asked if I would "document" our work and I joked back that yes, I would collect evidence that the rice was harvested on this day.

So I've posted our cameos - the timing was well-chosen, just 2 hours after we began the work, the graying skies brought us a wall of rain.

I think at least a solid day (a dry day) would have been necessary to finish the work. But next to the budding corn at the top of the hill, blue-tinted rice was also in view and continuing over the shoulder of the "lomas" - Miguel's family has been busy this season!

Rice is hand-cut from the fields, grained, poured into a large cauldron "pila" and toasted, cooled, pounded in a large mortar with an oak (guacha pali) pestle, then sifted on a platter. Only after all of those steps do you get to boil water and cook up the "arroz nuevo" and I agree with my neighbors, it is so much tastier than the stuff sold in stores.

Is the concrete slab safe?
This was a question sticking in my mind after we poured the concrete. Now, after the seat was pulled from the mold and sealed to the floor, I feel better: I think we did a fine job.

This was also great timing. The church is planning a huge, fiesta-like event and will christen (so to speak) the new structure in a matter of weeks. The time is going fast and I expect the directive of the Adventist Church of Calabazal will attach planks and "penca" to finish the outhouse within the week.

Chakareros...

2008-09-14T18:01:00.010-05:00

Gotcha!
Here are the weaverbirds that have been squawking away in the trees. Finally I had my camera ready when they were around.Yup, he's up there...Also, not sure if I've shared with you all the rambutans (here they're called mamo chino, but I learned the other word in Hawai`i). Have you tried these before?They taste like sweet-tarts, like a semi-sour lychee fruit - the season is already over, but you could see these muppet fruits weighing down trees in San Felix.

This is just a quick update, sorry it's not well-developed. I'm in Panama City for a medical checkup and realized I had some free time to share photos and news.

The composting latrine saga continues but extra materials just arrived to finish the last 2 structures. At this time, the 3rd latrine has been completed (well, the blocking and plancha-throwing) and we have started the carpentry-work for the wooden house that will enclose the sitting area of the latrine (suddenly my description sounds very odd... well obviously, this is official latrine jargon). Why did it take so long for the sand to arrive in town? Because of this:

Some great data came in from the National Aqueduct and Sewer Institute (IDAAN). They handed over the water analysis of my Quebrada Mina springs, so I have some detailed info to share with the water committee.

The critters are still scampering around my penca hut. This recent visitor got a dose of insecticide and immortality on this blog as I share with you the last moment of its life:

A Peace Corps Trainee visited me for a few days and we got to chat about good old Michigan Tech days and how the PCMI program is working out - for us both. The visit allowed us to pasear, survey the last branch of the aqueduct, and jump into the river.

The REALLY rainy season is about to hit and I'm now wondering if my geology fieldwork is going to flounder with the aguaceros. This is a bit of a worry since I'm aiming for some intensive hoofing around the DAD of Volcan Baru in October. I'll stay optimistic, but wary.

Of course the "Saca mi foto" insanity is continuing. I'm gritting my teeth and concentrating on maintaining a sense of humor. Check out the Res. Dogs charisma of my latest solicitors:
At the house of the Comite de Agua meetings, this family also requested portraits. As I waited for the kids to clean up and assemble, these 3 were unsure about stage left or right. The girl on the left ultimately decided our positions and cleared up the confusion of who was in charge - she's in-the-know and will always take the lead when even the PCV is confounded with who's relative is who's. This sharp kid is my other community guide.Also in the late-breaking news, all of the chicks from my hen have passed away. A mysterious tragedy that has left all of us saddened. (I can't hellp thinking that maybe I really should have cooked that hen for my birthday feast...).

Construction & Juntas

2008-08-27T16:52:00.009-05:00

Construction is rampant!

1. Composting Latrine project is continuing (2 more to build)
2. A pit latrine suddenly appears

3. My house gets a make-over.

1. Last April my community received materials to begin construction of composting latrines at 4 different sites in town. The work has been continuing slowly ¨poco a poco,¨ so slowly that the weather has mocked our progress and decided to take away 2 meters of sand. So many rainstorms have been in and out of the community that a significant amount of sand has been reunited with the river.

This week we were lucky to have a few days of semi-sunshine and the road into town dried enough to allow a truck to drive in. Now we have our sand back and are ready to get going, again, with construction. This week is also important since an aspiring PCV will visit me and, guess what, that means said PCVT gets to learn some construction skills - haha!

2. This is a very good time for me to boast about my Community Counterpart. Román Chávez is a very active community member and has been watching step-by-step how Peace Corps Volunteer Beli Cudobu has been instigating projects. Well, maybe I can´t take so much credit, but he suddenly decided that the church had gone long enough without latrine services that, de repente, a pit appeared plus materials to cover it as a bone fide servicio.

He planned the ¨juntas,¨ got the donations, helped dig the pit, and said to me: hey volunteer, want to help build a latrine?

So I joined in, gave a little advice about rebar (hopefully not misplaced) and cement mixing, and helped build the slab for the church´s pit latrine. There was quite a bit of stress when we realized there suddenly wasn´t enough sand or rock to continue - who´s counting shovel-fuls of material?! and almost had to leave the slab like this until more material arrived:

What an engineering snafu:

Would there have been any hope of using this slab if this had sat for a week, waiting for more mix for the gaps?

I don´t know the answer, but I guess I made enough crinkled-nose expressions at the junta because suddenly sand appeared over the hillside and we were in business again. Okay, maybe I shouldn´t take much credit here either: there was a guy helping us that knew the school had excess materials and ample to share with the church, so...

...

so I should plan my retirement, these people don´t need a PCV to get them to act!

As for the plan for the plancha, the slab was also a bit kapakahi. For anyone interested, this is how the sketch-plan looks:

We had a significant donation of rebar for the project but unfortunately, the pit was dug so wide that most of the bars couldn´t cross the gap, for this reason, we decided to criss- cross and use a ton of wire to connect this web together.

So there it is! The slab was poured and we all celebrated with a mass of photo-ops:

3. My house has been drying up and getting bug-eaten ever since it was built (last December), so my neighbor, the super-human Román, organized a junta for bringing in new penca and bijau (sp?) leaves. Reconstruction began with the shower stall.

Apparently it was clear that the PCV is quite taller than anyone else in the area, so the shower should be adjusted to size - almost out of reach of the neighbors.

After this work, more reinforcements arrived plus materials. Roughly 8 women appeared dragging fresh penca. Each person found a space in the patio and began working on a stack of these palm fronds.

The fronds need to be separated into left and right-hand sides, this allows the builders to alternate the layers in a way that forms overlapping drapes. This kind of work is old hat for these ladies and they were zooming along so fast that I had a hard time focusing the camera. The penca they use comes from palms that grow all over the countryside. The majority of Ngäbe people in the Comarca live in houses of this material and so it is unsurprising that every year the competition for penca grows more fierce. These women had to walk roughly a mile away on muddy foot trails to find these fronds. Suddenly I was glad that I donated such a large quantity of red beans to the junta meal, they needed the energy!

Once the penca was ready, we were just about listo to start on my roof when, de repente hay lluvia: rain began to fall. It only lasted a few minutes but it was enough to cause Román some worry, so we adjusted the work plan. Today we will only fix the roof´s peak, the other gaps in the roof will need more time and more bijau (sp?) leaves.

Then suddenly Francisco was climbing up the pole ladder to begin mending the roof. The rain had stopped and Sixto had just arrived with a new bunch of leaves, so ya, the work restarted.

We decided to be a bit more modern with my roof and placed black trash bags down beneath the bijau (sp?) leaves. After a line of leaves was in place, Román began to hand up the split penca so it could anchor the round leaves while they dry in place. I later learned that the palms didn´t necessarily need to be split to work well but ya sirve.

What work remains? Tons! I´ll report on the status of my roof within the next 3 weeks; there should be great improvements (meaning less water falling on me) by then and also I should have news about the renewed construction of the compost latrines - news and photos.

Stay tuned!

Planting Rice

2008-07-30T10:29:00.007-05:00

It began last May:
When rain began to threaten and winter seemed close, many of the people began to cut and clear their land ¨limpiarla.¨ When the brush and shrubs were cleared away, they waited for the fallen plants and the bare soil to dry. This year, they had to wait much longer than normal - many of my neighbors complained that this was a very wet summer in southern Comarca Ngäbe-Bugle. By late may/early June, plumes of gray could be seen from the hillsides, little by little, the people were able to burn the fields - a final step to prepare the soil.

Ovidia and her family have plans to plant both rice and corn this winter. What kind? I was told there is a ¨fast rice¨ that will only need 3-4 months of growth before it´s harvested.

I arrived in the morning after being invited to photograph their family. It was a bright hot day, but the sky was already filling with clouds.

¨Where will we work?¨

¨This hillside, this is where we will plant rice. On the other side, the children are already planting corn. Put 6-8 grains in each hole and cover well with soil. My brother is already placing the holes (roughly 1 foot apart).¨

So we worked for hours this way, that is, until I decided to photograph my neighboring planters...

Olvidia´s sister, Guillermina worked the right-hand side and asked several questions about what is grown in The States. I tried to explain how family-owned farms still exist but the largescale planting is done by companies. That was when I suddenly remembered that I hadn´t mentioned the Thanksgiving tale to them yet! So, with very rough story-telling skills, I tried to explain how badly the Pilgrims failed when trying to establish crops in New England´s rocky soil:

¨Y el suelo tiene bastante rocas y piedras, no fue posible sembrar muchas cosas. Fue un tiempo malo, un tiempo de hambre. Pero habian grupos de indígenas también ...¨

¨¿Indígenas... como nosotros? ¿Cómo le parece? ¿Cómo está su lenguage?¨

¨Pues, se llama Wampanoag y ellos fueron muy similar a ustedes.¨

¨¿Y su lenguage? ¿Cómo habla en su lenguage?¨

¨Bueno, no estoy muy familiar con el lenguage, pero algunas palabras son como: Annisquam, Wawinet, Quidnet, Nantucket, ... estas son palabras del otro lenguage.¨

¨¿Y que significa tienen las palabras?¨

¨Pues, en realidad, no sé. Algunos discriben lugares.¨

¨Ah, sí.¨

¨Sí, eso es.¨

Her interest in ¨otras indígenas¨ isn´t the first time I´ve encountered questions about different cultures within The States. My other neighbors also ask: do they speak English, do they have land, do they have our skin color (one guy asks if they are ¨red like us¨), do they have hair like us?

And so I continue the story and finish with a punchline:

¨Y la idea nueva fue una estrategía. Pusieron una sardina conjuntos las semillas de maiz.¨
(And the new idea was a strategy. They put sardines in the ground with every corn seed.¨)

I love Thanksgiving and it was wonderful to explain the roots of such a large celebration, of why we celebrate and how: platefuls of food!

I know that the ¨indigenous¨ words I used were just town names in my home state. I know that they likely have a lost meaning, maybe a discription of the region, maybe the name of the particular people that used to live there. But just to sound out the different words, just to give an example of what the language might have been like... I thought that was useful for my Ngäbe friends. The complicated and not-so-idyllic relationship between my ancestors ¨antepasados¨and the original people of New England would be hard to explain. I went as far as saying that we have made ¨convenios¨ with the indigenous people and at least today, there is peace between us.

At just about noon, rain began to fall and suddenly the view to Cerro Iglesias was just a blank sheet, an aguacero was on its way - time for lunch!

A review of spiders

2008-07-16T18:58:00.007-05:00

I've accepted that my palm hut is an extension of the Panamanian campo, but I haven't accepted all of the insects and spiders that want to share it with me.

It must be a sign of changing seasons, the rainy winter is now in full swing and terribly huge (5-inch diameter-sized) spiders have suddenly appeared. I've discovered several varieties in my penca ceiling. I've tried to kill most of them, but sometimes I've run out of insecticide and sometimes they simply get away. I'll admit that I still harbor a terrible fear of them, but I'm becoming more fascinated with them as time goes on - I hope that means that I'm getting over my phobia little by little, but in the meantime, I've been in search-and-destroy mode for since June.
This one isn't pure black, so maybe isn't as poisonous as the black tarantulas I was warned about in Training. No need to take chances!

What is that up there? Snow white from insecticide, I was too chicken to kill it with a machete - it's a very large, long-legged spider. Seems to me it was a granddaddy of spiders, it had lost 2 of its rear legs already (maybe already encountered a PCV? maybe already encountered my cat?). Sorry spider, I just can't share my space with you, I don't want to know what would happen to me if you decide to bite.The original color was tan with slightly darker brown joints. A PCV once said that these remind him of spider crabs - I agree; it's not bulky like a classic tarantula from the movies but it's big with articulate limbs... dangerous? Not sure, but later that same week I found 4 more. Do these live in pairs?

A review of critters

2008-06-21T16:39:00.013-05:00

Do you think it will work? - It'll take a miracle.

2008-06-21T14:32:00.008-05:00

The real work has begun:

Now that the Latrine Committee has organized the families and how to divide up materials, we are constructing 4 composting latrines in my community.

The rock, sand, concrete, rebar, forms, etc has already arrived from the donor agency, ANAM: Autoridad Nacional del Ambiente

My counterpart and I have almost finished the first latrine - hooray!

The controversial idea of this latrine style does not worry me. Will this project prove sustainable? I think it will, we'll see of course, but the conditions/sentiment in this community seem right.

The 4 sites are all located on the lowlands of the Río Santa Lucia, an area that had seen heavy flooding several decades ago. The water table is at a permanent high and easily discovered after a few shovel-fuls of earth. Where the ground isn't boggy, it's rocky and difficult to dig. Pit latrines in this area are not successful - this fact compounded recently when the 4 latrines of the school overflowed during a heavy rainstorm.

The interest in free fertilizer is also strong. The majority of the people maintain small gardens (or clusters of banana) or larger crops higher in the campo on rented land.

It only remains for me to train a few more people how to block and work concrete and this project will carry itself to victory!

Exciting, eh?

"¿Saca mi foto?"

2008-06-21T13:06:00.016-05:00

This phrase makes my skin crawl - practically every other child/teen stops me with this question. The news has finally spread: ¡Beli tiene una camera!

I had been extremely cautious with my camera. Based on my experience in the training community and advice from other Volunteers, I practically hid the device for the first 5 months of service. I even felt ambivalent when my professors visited me and carried their cameras in the open.

Why do I feel (still) self-conscious with the camera - conscious to a point of paranoia?

Isn't it cool that, perhaps for the first time in their lives, the people of my community can possess their own family portraits?

No, I don't feel cool about this. I feel a bit used, like a walking photo dispenser. I'm providing a thrill to my neighbors that won't even last. Several families already have photos of themselves due to OTHER volunteers/ extranjeros/ missionaries that have come through. It's almost like each visitor leaves a trail of photos in their wake. When the dueño of the house proudly shows me the photo from 1993, the edges appear tie-dyed. Each fingerprint and damp corner is eroding away; the humidity is destroying the photos and no efforts have been made to preserve the treasure.

The gift of a photograph is just another token that, in a couple of years will just be another piece of trash in the patio.

Families are inviting me to their houses left and right; I "saco" photos of grandfathers, babies, teens in their finest clothing, young men posing with radios, aunts twice removed, the immediate family of 8, ...

The thought that I might be providing a valuable service or a priceless experience is not a convincing argument. The good/fun that comes from this does not convince me that I'm doing the right thing:

* I'm fueling the belief that all gringos carry cameras

* I'm supporting the assumption that I can easily travel in and out of the community, to and from the city (David, in this case) anytime to satisfy the priority of developing people’s photos

* I'm fulfilling the tourist destiny of photographing spectacles
- this puts me in the position as spectator and my neighbors as the objects, whether they know it or not, I don't feel comfortable with this: Am I here visiting some kind of museum or zoo?

* I'm taking their 50¢ or their $3 - yes this is a fair price, but they can't buy enough rice to feed everyone in the family. Despite the fact that I shouldn't put myself in a position to decide how my neighbors work out their personal finances, I don't like the fact that I'm providing the frivolous temptation to them.

* Young children might have "pena" about answering: Hola, but will yell requests to me:
"¿Saca mi foto?"

* Families I've never met or visited in their homes are asking my to stop by with my camera.
"Buenos días. ¿Cómo está?"

"¿Yo? Estoy aquí gracias a Dios."

"Va pa la escuela?"

"Si. ¿Tiene una camera?"

"Aah, pues, sí. Pero estoy caminando también, la camera está allá, en mi casa."

"Aah, así es. ¿Saca mi foto?"

"No tengo la camera, estoy viajando ahorita."

Maybe the expectation isn't really to take the photo RIGHT NOW, but instead of passing a stranger on the road and exchanging greetings and learning who's neighbor of who's cousin I'm talking to, I'm being asked: "¿Saca mi foto?"

What would a good Peace Corps Volunteer do in this situation? Well, I should use these conditions to my advantage:
*This provides many opportunities to visit/pasear with new people.
*...

But it's hard to see the bright side of this. I am the first PC Volunteer to work in my community and one of my legacies will automatically be: Ella tuvo una camera.

When no one is looking...

2008-06-17T21:46:00.019-05:00

A series of local photos.... One morning, walking down to the highway on the footpath, encountered a few familiar sights:

1. Someone has already checked this "membrillo" - nope, not enough meat for a soup. This is the height of the membrillo season (I had been calling these fruits quince, but that's wrong; this membrillo is completely unique to Panama) and these heavy fruits are falling from the sky. When they hit the zinc roofs the jarring: WHAM! is just as alarming as the effect of falling grapefruit (that season has already passed).

How to eat these? Well, the interior is really kind of rubbery and tough, so I suggest allowing a bit of time and cooking diced pieces in a soup or stew. I have to experiment some more (maybe I should try adding oil and frying it?) and there is an ample quantity, so stay tuned!

2. The cacao is constantly growing with no apparent season. This familiar view could be from any day of the year. These are the seeds of the cacao fruit (yummy to eat the soft coating, but then you're left with the large toxic seed).

After you eat the sugary layer inside the cask, let the seed dry in the sun (watch out for the afternoon rain!) then roast/char the seed, grind it up, mix in water, and then you have a fresh glass of chocolate. If possible, add sugar and milk.

My neighbors drink this whenever they are "thirsty" but it is also a symbolic beverage. During vigils and wakes, this is prepared for the visitors and family members. If a person is ill, the family will make a point of preparing cacao.

While it is not at all like Nestle's, this is very tastey and often a welcome change from the ever- popular cup of coffee.

3. I passed Megi's house and she offered me sopa and ponche. She was preparing a meal for her daughter, so was busy cleaning the rice. Melitza had run to change her clothes so she could get her photo taken but Megi remained and quietly worked, grain by grain, to finish her tasks.

4. Employees in the campo: Ranchland borders my community and has crept in where crops have failed one too many times. My brothers Chavez rent their land to host a 30-head herd and the secretary of the water committee (Quebrada Mina) is aspiring to keep 5 terneros, but for the most part, my village survives on agriculture, machete work, and government support.

The bright green fields we walk through to go to and from Escodu represent the "pasta" for the cows and bulls. This is actually a particular kind of grass, a feed for the animals, but it's causing problems for the non-ranchers. The grass is highly invasive and has added its bulk to the campo's aggressive plant life. Now, when a farmer needs to "limpiar el montain," he must cut and burn this sharp, tough grass as well.

5. Like a delicate cocktail umbrella behind an enchanting ear... Why yes, that's a cowpie :

6. Once on the "busita" I joined the other travellers on their way to town - to San Felix. It's still early in the morning, but commuter traffic has already died down and students are in their classes. In town there are shops to browse, church to admire, post office to hassle, hospital to visit, maybe someone hoping for a bouquet of flowers...

7. I've bought granola, powdered milk, instant noodles, peanut butter (they didn't have the good kind this time, too bad), guava jelly, salty crackers, tomato sauce, and oil. Then there was time to review the books saved at the Regional Leader's house. Now I can go back home.

Since it's only 5:00pm, I decide to walk back. The construction on the road has made the trip so much easier. The surface is paved now (tar and chip) and in roughly 45 minutes I'll be at my entrada. Isn't there a chiva? Well..., yes, but the chiva only shows up when it fancies a crowd, so I often prefer to caminar por pie.

For the vistas alone, the trip was also well worth it. A new discovery today: I hadn't noticed that of all of the various epiphytes in the trees, a gnarly cactus was also growing high up above the road. Not only was the cactus happily dangling from the tree branches, it was also in flower. Cactus flowers fascinate me. Maybe that's where that perfumey smell is coming from...

Priorities

2008-05-06T14:09:00.007-05:00

"The colonel took the top off the coffee can and saw that there was only one little spoonful left. He removed the pot from the fire, poured half the water onto the earthen floor, and scraped the inside of the can with a knife until the last scrapings of the ground coffee, mixed with bits of rust, fell into the pot."*

I´m pleased to say that I´ve reprioritized reading. Activities within my Peace Corps site have exploded and 6 different Committees are now taking action to coordinate health projects. Weekly meetings are held for various topics: expand an aqueduct, check water quality at springs, design a new water system, assess old spring boxes, solicit help from the Representante, visit the Ministry of Health, review materials for composting latrines - there´s a lot happening!

Not to mention planning geology fieldwork! Several trips to Panama City will have to take place before I can get back to Baru´s flanks and avalanche deposit.

All of this running around has made it even more important to consider when I can pick up my next literary classic.

*No One Writes to the Colonel, Gabriel Garciá Márquez, 1961.

Cordillera Crossing

2008-04-19T14:25:00.028-05:00

We did it- We hiked across Panama´s Cordillera!
So here is just a quick view of what we encountered:

0.1 People! While Jess, Alberto, and I encountered many travelling Ngabe folk, some cultural changes were visible as we progressed closer and closer to the Caribbean coast. Our familiar Nole-Duima region of the Comarca isn't wildly different from the "interior" - little girls in nagwas and chakaras exploding with "pena" easily represented my own neighbors.

0.2 Lots of students were going to and from their schools, lots of kids were travelling between the communities - valley by valley, lots of goods - pounds of rice and alimentos were carried up and down each loma on strong shoulders.

1. View from the drop-off point at the entrada to Hacha. This was a $20 per person trip since we were the only passengers who wanted to go all the way up there (literally the end of the road as you drive up from San Felix). This is a view roughly south looking out toward Cerro Petante (sp.) with the Pacific Ocean further away in the background. Since we are starting so high up, our trip will ¨all be downhill from here.¨ By stepping out of the truck, we are crossing The Divide and continuing North to our destination located on the Río Cricrimola.

2. ¨We,¨ who´s ¨we¨? It was me, Jessica Mehl (in the pink nagwa), and our guide (bodyguard with the straw hat) Alberto. Here we are talking to a person waiting to see if he can take the same car downhill, back toward San Felix. I believe he considered us crazy since we explained that we will walk all the way to Canquintú, in the Province of Bocas Del Toro. The truck driver is far in the background, probably shaking off the dust of the road while we get set to hike.

3. We would hike 2.5 days north along small trails passing tiny villages like these. We actually bumped into 2 volunteers along the way. This was encouraging! They had a lot of good things to say about the trip. They were hiking South while we hiked North. I think I prefer the hike we chose, it meant a lot more downhill hiking and ending up at the Caribbean Sea instead of the Pacific side. To end in a whole different part of Panamá and yet still remain in the Comarca Ngäbe-Bugle was a very rewarding experience! We would be able to see cultural changes along the way as we walked from the heart of the Comarca toward the fringe where idioms, houses, clothing, foodstuffs, and the entire environment is different from our Distrito Nole Duima.

4. Some fun surprises along the way! While sticking then sliding through orange mud, we would sometimes come to friendly changes in the trail. Despite how much rain fell during the trip, I still think we were lucky. We were never caught in any downpours (although at night we could hear a few passing by). There was a constant mist except with a few outbursts of sunshine. Sometimes our nagwas dried a bit around the hems, but for the most part we were dripping wet during the hike.

5. As we hiked and dropped in elevation, the houses began to change style, many were very large, still made of penca but round. This was the center of ¨town¨ in Kremonte, this is the next significant pueblo after Tolothe. The rain was already on it´s way, rising up from the valley. Alberto told us that the palms used for the roofs here are really the best. It´s hard to find ¨penca¨like that on our side of the mountains. Not only is it tougher, it has wider leaves and can provide a better roof than what we encounter (or, in my case, what I live in).

6. Some exhilarating surprises along the way! We had to cross Quebrada Negra where it joined the Río Cricrimola. Pretty deep in some places! Alberto tested it out for us and after helping me across, he also led the way for Jessica. After getting soaked and almost swimming part of the distance across this river, I never dried off until I got to David 2 days later. The waterproof socks didn´t matter after that point, but at least the first day was spent with partly comfortable toes.

7. During our last day on foot, we were climbing fewer and fewer hills but crossing and recrossing the Cricri more times than I could count. We encountered numerous bridges, zip-lines, and boggy crossings. I began looking forward to them, the extra height allowed interesting views.

8. The Río Cricrimola toward the end: We finished our journey in Canquintú, where we stayed overnight and then took a skiff back to Chiriqui Grande. Here I looked out at the last of the high cerros in the South and realized I could also see beautiful rounded river cobbles as well as white cows in the distance. Such an unobstructed view was rare, this is a clearcut located just 1 hour South of Canquintú. A final photographing spot we reached before returning to civilization.

9. The final journey to reach Chiriqui Grande was by boat. A long skiff, holding roughly 20 people left from Canquintú at 5:30am. Our trio was a little unlucky that we were travelling on a Saturday, the boat was filled by very eager teachers who were taking their weekend "afuera del campo" and had practically leapt into the skiff as it bobbed and spun away from the shore. As soon as I sat down on the wooden bench and felt the swaying, I felt giddy and suddenly exhilarated. In that moment, it seemed that the trip had closure: we had successfully crossed the Cordillera on foot and we would float to the sea. For roughly 3 hours, the skiff would motor down the Río Cricrimola, enter the Caribbean Sea, and make port at Chiriqui Grande - and I wouldn't have to lift a foot to get there. I was also moved by nostalgia... I really missed boats!

This trip was no vacation. I feel like some part of my Peace Corps experience was just given tremendous satisfaction. Not only did we get a cross-section view of the Comarca, we just completed the longest, most ambitious ¨pasear¨ I will ever do while living here as a PCV. With our gregarious navigator and icebreaker/sometimes interpreter, Alberto, we hiked, visited, chatted, accepted snacks, and exchanged greetings with every friendly soul we encountered. Also, I also achieved a record: I succeeded in wearing my blue nagwa for 3 complete days - ¡Que reto!

Winter Again

2008-04-12T14:59:00.013-05:00

Here it comes, the rain is coming back!

I can just imagine the windy days with dewy tulips and the smell of warming earth that tells the senses in New England that, yes! Spring is on its way! I admit that I miss that weather. Here on the south shore of Panamá the hot, dry days are suddenly more sticky-humid and thunder rattles the bamboo huts each afternoon. Just yesterday an aguacero visited and I think that´s it - the Winter season is back.

This makes me sad because my memories of muddy feet and mold-green boots are still fresh from December. But also, I´m planning a long hike next week and I suspect there will be some suffering along the way. Time to bring out the Water Socks, ponchos, and ZipLocks! I look forward to the next chance to blog, I should have some interesting (or just soggy) photos and stories.

Oh, but some recent and exciting news is that I´m finally living in my house. My bamboo and palm hut is finished AND has a door. So I moved in as quickly as I could and commandeered the gas stove. Here´s my kitchen:
I agree that the space seems a bit dark, even for all of those spaces between the bamboo, but it´s very cozy. I have yet to see how it fares in a rainstorm, though, vamos a ver si hay problemas de agua.

Where do I sleep? Very high up off the ground, there´s a loft about 6 ft up. There in the left-hand corner of the next photo you can see the bottom of the hand-carved ladder. The ladder provides mini-adventures each evening. While I think it is a fantastically clever design, I´ve noticed some problems. The wood has dried very quickly and is full of tiny little holes that sort of rattle when I subir the steps. I think it could fall apart within the next few months. For that reason, I bought a tow rope. I´m keeping that line handy for when I need to swing up to bed - exciting times!

Here´s my loft/bed: Also in this photo is one of the 4 dresses that was gifted to me last month. Not sure if I´ve already written about the clothing problem of mine... so I should explain.

About Nagwas: The dresses are called "nagwas" and are worn by all traditional Ngäbe women and girls. The large photo below shows my neighbors in action wearing traditional garb. The design is very interesting and represents a mix of indigenous and modern ideas. From what I understand, the fringe details (called dientes because they are often triangles or zigzags like "teeth") come from very early Ngäbe art. The earliest people in Panamá didn´t wear dresses or pants; my neighbor Román told me that they might have had some kind of covering made of natural materials (bark or leaves etc) but when missionaries encountered the people, they were considered "naked." As a solution to provide clothing, the missionaries introduced a concealing form of dress. The nagwa is a very conservative style that only reveals the arms, but less conservative was the decision to sew very poofy sleeves to the shoulders.

Part of the responsibility of Peace Corps Volunteers is to join the community and integrate with the people. This is very important but I am wrestling with the idea that I should wear the nagwas. My neighbors, Jessica and Jesse, LOVE the dresses and are putting me to shame because they can walk miles, in perfect comfort, in the nagwa. What is my hangup? Why do I feel terribly out of place wearing this clothing? I can´t form a good argument in my defense... but everyday I look at the purple, blue, and black phenomenons hanging in my closet and I freeze up. It´s just unnatural for me to pull the dresses over my ears and around my ankles and I´ll keep mulling this over for as long as it takes before I can explain my mental problem with nagwas.

While standing on the highest hill in my valley, I was checking phonemail when two of my neighbors passed by. They were returning from a long day searching for the shrubby plants called something like "escolá." These are the best plants to use when you want to clean your patio. You cut the roots first, then wrap a line/cord of grass around them and then attach a stick and, next to the machete, that broom is your best tool to use in the campo.

Here are some recent house-guests:

Not 9-to-5

2008-04-02T10:17:00.005-05:00

A few days ago I was inspired to call a good friend of mine - it had been a long time since I had heard how things were going on his side of the world but I also just quadrupled my phone minutes, so there would actually be enough time to chat.

So I looked for a quiet corner in the bus terminal´s restaurant and sat down with my coffee. I dialed the number for his desk phone and, determined not to leave silly messages, I tried the general office number when he didn´t pick up. Hmm, no one there... Okay, so I decided to wait a half hour, finish my coffee, then try again.

I let 20 minutes go by and tried all of the numbers again, even the people who would be in the other offices. No one was there! Had there been an evacuation? Had I considered time-zone changes? Did I try all of the normal numbers? Is he screening all calls?

Then it hit me - Ah-ha! I forgot something important: This is a Saturday afternoon. Of course I can´t talk to my friends in that office so many miles away from here; this is a weekend!

Note to self: Normal work hours exist in other parts of the world; not everybody works like a Peace Corps volunteer.

What´s New?

2008-03-19T11:48:00.013-05:00

Now that it´s the middle of the dry season, different fruits are growing on the trees. No more oranges and grapefruits, this is the season of marañón, guava (or something like guava), guanabana, and mango. Later, toward the beginning of the rainy season, I can look forward to membrillo (quince) and bread fruit. I haven´t completely accepted the idea, but most of these fruits are eaten while they´re still green. There are so many birds (like this one) that snatch up the fruits before they can be collected, so many that it´s better to gather the fruits early.

I´m not clear on the name of this bird, by my neighbors insisted it is a ¨loro¨but it looks very much like a kind of bird of prey, so I´m not sure how to name it. There are definitely small hawks in my valley, but for the most part I see large vultures, small green parrots, and black ¨chacareras.¨ Those black birds are fairly large and build nests like these:

The name for these birds comes from the Ngäbe word ¨chacara¨ which is a kind of crocheted bag. I don´t think I´ve mentioned these before, but this is an important part of the culture in my area of Panama. The handmade bags can be all sizes - some the size to hold a toothbrush others a size to carry huge amounts of corn - and they were originally made from the tough fibers of the ¨pita¨ plant. Now-a-days you´ll see the bags made of plastic fibers (cheaper and doesn´t rot, but chafes like something awful). Hanging in my room, above the platano are two chakras (photo to the right). Normally, they have at least one color worked into the pattern, but here the example is far fancier.

More news: Since my house has been ¨empty¨I have a new guia. He is a nephew of my host family and he is 12 years old. My host sister - Eugenia - is away working in Bocas del Toro (she´s an elementary school teacher), her husband - Eliecer - is away working in Lajero or other communities with health clinics, and my host mother - Gabriela - is still away in David. Unfortunately, Gabriela is still ill and is staying in the regional hospital. That´s part of the reason why I´m out of site writing this blog. I´ll try to visit her today and I´m bringing along some homemade goodies: rice with 2 fried eggs and coffee: ¡Que sabroso!

So my 12-year-old guide is named Elmer Chavez. He is more like a self-proclaimed guide but he was given the responsibility of guarding the house while the ¨dueños¨ are away. My own house is still under construction, so it isn´t very secure and since Eliecer is raising so many chickens, someone needs to keep an eye out so they don´t start disappearing. Elmer is about to go back to school - classes are just restarting now - but he has been dutifully staying by the house, cooking for me when it appears that I´ve forgotten to cook, collecting wood, and explaining important concepts to me such as marañón.

What are marañón? They are the fruits that produce cashew nuts. When I saw these apple-red fruits appearing on trees, I was confused, they have a strange nob at the end that looks like a lure (see photo). Have you ever wondered why cashews are so expensive? Well, I understand it now.

Here is Elmer collecting the marañón. The ¨cashew apple¨ needs to be gathered just like an apple, or simply climb into the tree and jump up and down shaking every branch you can grab. The fruit is fairly soft when it is red like in the photo. When you twist off the nut, the juice is already dripping down your hands and, like me, you might be slow to realize that it´s better to do this over a jar. The juice from the fruit is very good - especially if you dilute it and add sugar (making a ¨chicha dulce¨). You can try eating the fruit, but it is kind of stringy and is more bitter than the pure juice. The nut itself has a black shell, but is kind of soft and can´t be eaten as-is. Put the nut into a metal can, add kerosene, and cook/burn it up to a crisp - allowing flames is perfectly fine. Once you are convinced that the nut has suffered enough, let it cool and carefully smash it. If you can break off the blackened cask, you´ve got yourself one tiny pile of cashew pieces ready to eat.

In my opinion, the tasty morsel requires a bit too much work, but this was a good adventure. Both Elmer and his cousin Karina taught me the magical ways of the marañón. Ah-ha! But I should mention one more thing, all of the acrid smoke that flew up from the fire hurts the eyes but is pretty bad for sensitive people like me. Have you ever burned poison ivy? Well, the rash I noticed on all of my limbs the following day was remeniscent of what toxic smoke can do. Clearly, I´m learning local lessons "poco-a-poco."

Solution: Travel

2008-03-07T23:07:00.002-05:00

February 25-March 8:

"Sometimes it's a little better to travel than to arrive."*

It seems that I don´t have as much to report as I expected. The weeks following my advisor´s visit were filled with non-volcanological activities, but this is not to say that simply nothing has happened since.

Summary: In-Service Training, 2 water committee meetings, 2 botched aqueduct-type visits, and a day helping my neighboring PCV throw a plancha for the final composting latrine in her community.

In-Service Training took up roughly 4 days: 4 days of charlas, presentations, extra Spanish lessons, regret for not taking extra Ngäbe lessons, planning a visit with a springbox technician, quick visit to the beach, and general regrouping with the Group 60 crew. The trip out to IST was fairly long but still, since Swear In, I´ve made several long bus trips back and forth across Panama and I´m not yet feeling the strain.

It´s no secret that I love to travel, but only recently I´m understanding why (even during the most stressful and maddening journeys) I get a deep satisfaction out of the process of travel. It is easy to say that I enjoy seeing new places and it´s fun to see so much terrain slip by without lifting a foot to walk across it. But when I´m travelling more economically (por ejemplo, por pie), it also won´t seem surprising or novel to admit that I prefer walking out my front door and across a hillside instead of staying rooted at home. But I only just realized that another aspect of travel has missed assessment: What responsibilities do you have as a traveller? Is there any other weighty obligation more important than completing the journey while executing the journey? No, my answer is no. So I am concluding that few endeavors offer such satisfying, single-minded, laziness: Travelling is wonderful!

While I haven´t crossed the equator, haven´t been to Africa, only got within 2,000 miles of Asia, lack experience in grizzly bear country, remain tantalized by the terraced islands within the Indian Ocean, have no concept of Down-Under, and desire first-hand knowledge of how east is East, luck has been with me to allow significant travels. So I've had some time to mull over why it is that I am compelled to not only relocate myself but also shell out the considerable funds (often rearranging plans to accomodate lofty travel goals).

Authors of all genres have many things to say about the virtues of travel: the romance, the mind-broadening process, as well as the uncomfortable and sometimes dangerous possiblilities. I recently read an opinion of Sherlock Holmes: he referred to travel as a waste of energy that muddles the mind [my paraphrasing]. But a comment that fits my sentiment comes from Paul Theroux. He begins the Great Railway Bazaar with an odd explanation. There are some people who view the act of travel as a kind of solution. More than: "go take a hike" or "you need to get out more," travel can be therapeutic. Need some changes in life? Need a new perspective? Need to grow? Feel a cold coming on? Travel. Well, that was how Theroux presented the argument: I feel a stuffiness in my nose and there´s a rattle in my throat; I´d better book a train to cross Europe. [again, my paraphrasing - I don´t have his book handy]

Have I had a bothersome cold that needed several flight tickets to clear up? Well, yes, but a cold less like a sniffle and more like an infirmity of perspective. Enough sharp minds and well-learned writers have explained this particular theme: gaining worldliness.

So I´ll throw in my lot with Theroux but also suggest that a guilt-free sensation of irresponsibility can come from travel.

Sorry, I´m on the bus, I´ll get back to you in 6 hours.

*Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: Robert M. Pirsig

Volcano Fieldwork Part 2

2008-02-20T15:05:00.000-05:00

February 17-20th: What is this rocky prairie? This photo was taken just seconds before the clouds moved in completely to take away the view of the summit dome. My volcanological companions and I visited Volcan Baru´s amphitheater during an uncharacteristically rainy week. After exploring the area of La Yeguada with PCVs Karinne and Noah, we took the Interamericana, headed west, then drove due north to the volcano. This was a good time to visit the largest known debris avalanche in Central America. The photo above is a view into the amphitheater of Volcan Baru. We are standing on a lahar surface and looking roughly East up into the dome complex. Too bad about the weather, the summit antennas are already hidden by the incoming rain.

Since we had the benefit of several great geological minds, we took time to look at a phenomenon very different than lava flows. Debris avalanches are dramatic, but very rare events at volcanoes. By rare, I mean that they don´t happen every day but many volcanoes around the world have collapse features like what you can see at Baru. Some preliminary studies describe this particular deposit as the largest in Central America. What does that mean? At this point it just means that a whole lot of mountain fell down many thousands of years ago.

Want to know more about hummocks? Go here: USGS VHP

Events like this are very interesting for a number of reasons but I´m interested in them because they scoop out a volcano and create new terrain. After walking around Mount St. Helens for a while in 2004, I developed a particular interest in the features called hummocks. They represent coherent blocks that tumbled, slid, or floated along with the rest of the debris that made up the flanks of a volcano. Here´s one outcrop of a hummock but it represents a blocky phase and lacks the multicolored characteristic typical of most hummocks:

(Bill, Guillermo, and Karinne for scale)

In the fan of deposits from Baru, you can find these hummocks and start to get an idea of how the collapse took place- this could be good thesis material.

Thanks for taking the time to visit and brainstorm project plans, everybody - this was a valuable series of fieldtrips!

Volcano Fieldwork Part 1

2008-02-15T11:16:00.000-05:00

February 13-16th:
First few visits were to the Cerro Colorado region (Comarca highlands) and later Volcan Baru (to Boquete unfortunately during the same time as the jazz festival; no time to listen to music!).

We weren´t sure exactly which peak was Cerro Colorado, but we sure found the copper mine area easily. The view here is roughly south looking out from the terraced area where mining might continue in the future. We found some interesting deposits that we didn´t quite expect here; there were layers of pumice that must have come down from a volcano located higher up in the mountains. Where? Not sure yet, but for us, the pumice is far more interesting than measely copper veins!

After the quick visits in Chiriqui, we visited La Yeguada volcano in Veraguas. Before reaching the dome complexes, we stopped at a river crossing.

Here I am pointing at a kettle-like feature in the surface of a highly-jointed (entablatured jointing) ignimbrite.

We debated if this was a very glassy andesitic lava flow, but there are flow bands and compacted pumices (fiamme) within the unit. This is an interesting outcrop to study but also intreguing for the artistic eye.

The visit to La Yeguada provided a glimpse of what Karinne had been working with - heaping dacitic domes in an ill-defined crater with a poorly constrained age. This is a difficult field area...

Panama City

2008-02-06T10:39:00.000-05:00

February 1st and 2nd

It´s Carnival time in Panama and I had the luck of travelling to Panama City just as it started. That luck ended up kind of badly, I really wasn´t there to celebrate and dance in the streets, I just had to visit the dentist and wasn´t really prepared to explore the festivities solo. Do I have photos of the parades or costumes or crazy vendors? No, but I can share 2 photos that compare interesting views of the city: The Old and The New.

Sorry the experience wasn´t more interesting. Likely this post would be more meaningful if I also put in a note that ¨Yes¨ the SuperBowl was the following Sunday but ¨No¨the Patriots did not win. Okay, next year I won´t be chicken and I´ll check out a Carnival... Extra note, travelling by bus anywhere in Panama will be dicey during this week of fiestas- especially in and out of Panama City and Santiago. Expect super long lines in the bus terminals; the line was so long that I considered the $80 cost to simply fly back to David from Panama; it would have been a 3 hour wait in line, plus the 8 hour trip by bus, plus the inconvenience of arriving at a ridiculous hour in the morning - hmmm, that could be worth $80...

Fieldwork In Burica

2008-02-04T14:14:00.000-05:00

For a little more than a week, I joined a PSU grad student working on the geology of the Burica Peninsula.

We began in Puerto Armuelles, the most populated town in the region. The goal was to map the peninsula to determine what structural features are present that indicate faulting. Already aware of the Triple-Point Junction just offshore from the point of Burica, we were prepared to encounter fault characteristics throughought the entire region. An interesting feature that I wasn´t familiar with is the series of benches that form when shorelines are repeatedly uplifted. We could drive by such structures and note: Yes, there´s another one!

Previous work has been conducted in this area - a region shared almost equally with Panama and Costa Rica. As we used the former published work for a reference, we learned what details needed to be added to the first map and also how the structural model will have to be changed now that new evidence exists for different geologic mechanisms.

This work will continue over the next few years - there´s a lot of terrain to cover on foot! Few direct routes exist for crossing the peninsula and a number of traverses will be necessary to trace such large-scale features as synclines, normal faults (or was it transform?), benches, and truncated lahar flows.

I hope I can join the field mapping in the future!

Christmas '07

2008-01-19T18:31:00.001-05:00

Trip to Volcan Baru (a very cold and very wet trip). I´ll share the drier photos here, but 90% of our trip was spent soaked through and colder than I´d like to remember.

We began on Dec. 24th, getting a taxi ride up from Boquete to the entrance of the National Park. The day was misty and cool, but the three of us thought we had a good chance of a clear day: just give it time, right?
By lunchtime, we had a fairly hazy view of the valley below us. Clouds were still moving above and appearing to come down from the north, we continued on. The hike is roughly a 6 hour trip up a 13km path climbing to 11,397 ft (3474 km). It´s a fairly direct route, and in good time, we reached the summit just before sunset.

Unfortunately, by sunset the mist had already become a hard rain: a horizontally blowing rain that stung like hail. It was going to be a very cold night... We had been hoping to share cabin space with the ANAM people who maintained the posts at the summit, but apparently the Christmas holiday was well-respected, even at the volcano summit. We were knocking on all of the doors of those little white buildings you can see in the picture below (after the rainy trail view).

On Christmas morning we woke up and unrolled ourselves from the picnic table, the tarps, each other, and the sleeping bags - I was suddenly happy to be alive: my companions didn´t decide to mutiny and kill me for my sleeping bag! Sincere thanks to Rebecca and Richard.

When we walked with squelching strides back down the volcano, we had a good turn of luck and caught a minibus to take us back to Boquete. I admit that the return trip was a bit miserable, but I think the most miserable of us all was little Dante, Rebecca´s dog. He was barely a year old and he was already suffering the extremes that life in Panama could offer him!

The next day, when we woke up in the warm confines of our hostel, we were greeted by a glorious view of the volcano. Hardly a cloud in the sky, we could see the treeline we had crossed, the domes we had slid down in the dark, and the white ANAM stations that denied us entry. The view reinforced my desire to return, I´ll get back up there and be able to point to the two oceans... one day.

So, when can we go again?

Suggestions for the next trip? Yes, wait until the dry season has actually started. If we had planned to hike just a week or two later, our odds would have been better for a dry time. The trouble is, though, that we ¨should have¨ just waited to hike on the 26th instead of the 24th and then, also, our rain problem would not have existed. So let that be a lesson! It´s still near-impossible to plan around the weather.

First 3 Months

2008-01-19T18:24:00.001-05:00

Stay in site! Trying very hard to do so...
Nov. 2007 - Jan. 2008

A time marked by paseando, house construction, adjusting to "stardom," learning the Spangäbe, appreciating yucca with rice and Ramen Noodle, cleaning mildew off leather, loving texting other volunteers, listening to Día de Bandera drum practice, visits to San Felix to check email and charge the cell phone, perfecting bucket baths, buscar leña, write letters home, organize water committee meetings, create community maps.
Also had a chance to work with PCMI Jessica and Adam uphill from me. Their composting latrine project is a large-scale event! So 2 days were spent mixing, blocking, and constructing the bases of latrines. Several of my community members wanted to join me and help out with the work (a great chance to share the ideas about this project, too!). So Miguel, Moises, Milton, and Roman have just gained some construction experience. Hope we can help again Jess! 3 more latrines to go, right?

At this point, it´s hard for me to say if my community will want their own compost latrine project. Many people are telling me they need/want latrines since few exist but this particular style of servicio might not be the most comfortable idea for the people. It would be a big change for someone to accept a fancy-looking latrine into their lifestyle after a lifetime of doing without even a pit latrine. My plan is to approach this matter slowly and get a better idea of what kind of sanitation solution is more sustainable. Stay tuned!

November Festivities:
My small town had been practicing for weeks and weeks; every day around noon we could all hear the drums start up. The school had been preparing to debut their drum corps and flag bearers and was ready to present their dedicated crew to the town during El Día de Indepedencia de Colombia, el 3 de noviembre. This was an important day! Not only did I wear my nagua dress, but the director of the school and every teacher was at the celebration.

First the drummers lead the circuit around the ball field, then the parade worked its way into the commons of the schoolyard. The Panamanian flag was then presented and raised as the entire community held their hands over their hearts (strangely, some hands were positioned over the heart, yes, but as if ready to throw a karate-chop). The formalities were very reminiscent of a Veteran’s Day Parade, but what followed was intriguing. Once the flag was high above us, the teachers invoked a series of presentations. One by one (I believe it was class by class), children stepped out of their tightly formed lines and recited speeches – with gusto! Children exclaimed: I am Panamanian! and reached out their hands to encompass the sky, the campo, the village, the families, the ducking child standing by that just missed the swinging arm... Not only were there well-memorized speeches, 2 students also sang original canciones. Our town has some very talented musicians!

November is a very busy time for honoring la vida de Panama. The Independence Day (from Colombia) is really just the start of festivities. Two more official holidays draw la gente together: El Día de Bandera and later in the month, Independence from Spain. Our students had been practicing for a series of marches, in fact, the following day the whole crew was going to a neighboring town to march down the main street of Quebrada Guabo. Roughly 17 different schools would gather there, march, and face judges to determine which school displayed the best organization, musical skill, choreography, costumes, etc.

Did my community win? No, not this time: but last year they had secured a runner’s up status and took home a prize. Well, there’s always next year and based on how much the community at large loved the drumming (little kids still sing: boom-boom-boombity-boo), I think they can produce a sharp performance.

Do I live in a rainforest? No, you’ll have to go to the Bocas side (Caribbean coast) of the Comarca to encounter rainforest, but in general it is an endangered environment in Panama. My community is tucked into the rugged foothills on the southern slope of the western highlands and very few hints remain of the oldgrowth: there has been so much farming in this region that it’s difficult to imagine the days when the dark interior loomed too dangerously for even the bravest hunters. How long ago did the mountains evolve into the tamed farmlands of corn and fincas of coffee? I haven’t been able to learn that from my neighbor yet, but he can explain how giants from the high mountains used to challenge the people to duels and swiftly disappear to high aeries.

My neighbor Roman is a wonderful story-teller. I’ve learned about the drunken frog that became lost in the stars, the witch of the cocoa tree, and a giant that loved stealing people lunches. Could I retell these stories for you? I wish I could, but these particular favorites were shared with me during my earliest days in site, my limited Spanish filtered only the most general ideas of these stories. But one day (maybe in a few months…) I’ll ask Roman: Hey, I’d like to hear that story again about giant and the heroes. Once I get a better handle on the details, I’ll be ready to share more. Stay tuned!

Swear In

2008-01-19T18:21:00.008-05:00

The day arrives:
October 28th 2007

Here´s our group: well first, here are the ladies. The next photo is of the gentlemen. Thanks goes to Ashley, Emily, and Rebecca for sharing photos, it's hard to photograph and BE photographed without becoming a nuisance.

Here we are in the principle park of Casco Viejo, facing the Canal Museum with our backs to a renovated church and square. The photos came first, then the formalities. Once inside the museum we listened to our group representatives, for both of Group 60's two sectors: Environmental Health and Economic Development. There were also speeches from the US Ambassador to Panama, H.E. William Eaton and Country Director, Peter Redmond which included a recognition and farewell for Meegan March, one of our trainers.

After the ceremony there was time to explore the museum but then we quickly regrouped and prepared to celebrate our successful 3 months of training.

Step 1 of celebration: go eat! We found a wonderful Italian restaurant in Panama City (just one block south of Via Espana): try the gnocchi!

Step 2 of the celebration: go to the beach. Before leaving the city and getting into our new sites, we made plans to celebrate our PC training survival with a trip to the beach: the highly recommended ¨Las Veraneras¨ - I hope to go back there someday! They have very tasty batidos (milkshakes) and offer 2-story cabanas with serious penca roofs (that is to say, rain can't fall through the leaves!).

You can see all of us crowded on the steps of the old church of Casco Viejo - on the same plaza as the Canal Museum. Here we number 36 - a huge group! I plan on returning here someday, this is an interesting part of Panama City that still preserves some of the old architecture and offers nice boulevard -strolling. Later I learned that there is an emerald museum kitty-corner to this church... hmmm.Also, I had mentioned a really great Italian restaurant: That was where we had a final despedida with Meegan and our trainers.

Peace Corps Training

2008-01-19T18:15:00.002-05:00

August - October 2007

Training, ah yes, what did Brian always tell me: Just get through training!

My introduction to the Peace Corps began on campus at Michigan Tech, but the real-life experience of it began with several days of staging in Washington, DC. After introductions and many reviews of the Peace Corps goals, challenges, and nuts-n-bolts, our group of 42 aspirantes flew to Panama. I suspect that, country to country the 3 months of training are similar in design but likely wildly different in the ways that the aspiring volunteers are challenged. My days were filled with language classes, tech training (big focus on aqueducts, latrines, and health education), official "Chorrera Meetings," and lots of host family interaction. Toward the end of the 3 months there were several visits to Volunteer sites (definitely high points of the experience). As for adjusting to culture shock and self-assessment/self-doubt, I wasn´t surprised by these challenges but my, they are sneaky mindgames!

The following are some images from the Tech and Cultural Weeks. Both were a good mix of hands-on work and cultural challenges. The EH group visited two different volunteer sites in the Comarca Ngäbe-Bugle and stayed with host families. For some of us, it was a tough challenge to reencounter host family introductions and adjustment issues. Having already lived with a family in our Training Community, it wasn´t so easy to go through the social awkwardness of: hi, my name is... and reexperience the newness of idioms, personal habits, and idiosyncrasies of a new household.

The Tech-Week experience was also great bonding time for us in Group 60. After a long day´s work, we could rely on a gathering at the Co-op. Cookies and sodas and then the pivotal discovery that we could order hojaldres... these were the golden hours.

I´ll be honest here and say that these last 2 photos are not from anywhere near the Comarca. They were taken from an area close to Volcan Baru - from the lower, forested flanks of the volcano. Why was I there during training? Well, there just happened to be a little extra time after Culture Week ended and enough time for a quick run (literally a run) up to Boquete for an afternoon; this proved to be a wondrous vacation for me. The cool climate, the high altitude fresh air, the somehow denser forests, the rugged terrain, the fresh coffee, and the moments of contemplative solitude were very satisfying. Some would complain that Boquete is not what it once was, that it is now a place quite overrun by external influence - this may be true, but up until that visit, I had not known any other place that would serve me a bowl-like mug of cafe con leche. Without shame, I will admit that a you can "supersize" me a latte any day (but I don´t want fries with that, please).

Also, a quick addition. Rebecca was savvy with her camera and documented one of the crazier ¨dynamicas¨ we encountered in Training. Here´s all of us Environmental Health aspirantes doing acrobatics.

Colima, Mexico '07

2008-01-19T18:00:00.000-05:00

May - August 2007

Just after the spring semester ended at MTU (May 2007), I took up an internship at the University of Colima, Mexico. Reminiscent of the good old days at the Hawaiian Volcano Observatory, I met a great group of people researching various aspects of an active volcano. Volcan de Colima is one of the most active volcanoes in Mexico but is poorly understood. The current foci of study are: infrasound, thermal, gas, and ash. A full-fledged observatory doesn't exist to track changes at Colima, but various groups are working to collect data to monitor the hazards. With time, it should be possible to develop a cohesive program of complimentary research and monitoring that will communicate effectively with Proteccion Civil and decision-makers.

Over the course of the summer, many interns came and went and, in Andrew's words shared: "scars and stories."

Incoming students brought various backgrounds while semi-permanent interns generously became mentors to lead fieldwork. Regular trips to the temporary radar site at Monte Grande (on the lower flank of Colima) and to the summit of Nevado (the immediate neighbor of Colima, a high peak almost level with the volcano) allowed us to do hands-on fieldwork and monitoring. The station located near the summit of Nevado was a perfect observation site; the Proteccion Civil staff was very welcoming and generous with their support. Not only did they facilitate our trips up the long, often gouged-out road through the park, they lent out space to stay overnight and fill up the common spaces with bulky gear. Muchas gracias a Rojo y los otros Superheroes!

Hoping to build on my experiences of geological mapping, instrument installation, and general volcanic monitoring, I joined as many field trips as possible. This was an important opportunity to compare an andesitic volcano with what I have already learned about Hawaiian volcanoes and Mount St. Helens. One of the primary differences on my mind was the frequency and impact of lahars at Colima. Having just arrived in Mexico at the end of their dry season, odds were good that I'd be able to investigate fresh deposits. Not a fan of gambling and slowly learning that monitoring efforts were planned a bit differently than expected, my hopes to study active lahars fell through, but late in the summer I witnessed my first lahar while in the field with 5 other students.

We had just arrived at the Monte Grande site when an intense rain (and thunder/lightning) storm closed in. After assembling the gear under tarps and boxes, the 6 of us sheltered under the remaining tarp as a strong rain blew down and whipped around us. The Monte Grande site is a low dome on the volcano's flank cut on both sides by two ravines (barrancas). Safely situated high on the rise, the radar, rain gage, and other instruments (like the permanent infrasound sensors we were going to install) occupy a relatively small area on the rise. After at least 15 minutes (and feeling more and more chilly with each minute), we suddenly heard some rumbling. Thunder wouldn't have lasted so long and wouldn't have sounded like it was getting louder... "I think there's a lahar!" As soon as we realized there was a chance to observe the event, we dropped the tarp and raced to get a view.

Our first view was of the northern barranca and we pushed through the brush and shrubs to see that, yes, a muddy slurry was racing through the ravine. Parts of the confining walls were becoming undercut as the flow scraped by, but a better view was waiting in the other barranca. The barranca on the opposite side of Monte Grande was deeper and already cut down into the old, dense lava flows. It was here that we saw the lahar flowing, rolling, spitting, and eventually cascading down what was our primary trail back to the parked truck. The photo to the left was taken by Emma as we tried posing in front of the nickpoint where the lahar gushed in an impressive cascade. Yes, we were definitely soaking wet!

The internship at Colima was a very mixed experience. I am sincerely grateful for all of the support from Steve and Gemma and the chance to have some adventures with Flo, Andrew, and the other interns. The birthday trips were fantastic: Flo, I think you had the best plan! Over the course of the summer we trekked out (by bus) to the beach, Guadalajara, Tequila, and Patzcuaro, but the best trip was to Paricutin to celebrate your birthday (and not just the best because we visited another volcano!).

After taking a night bus from Colima, we arrived in a tiny town at 6:30 or so in the morning. We weren't quite sure how to proceed, but a man leading a couple of horses immediately got our attention. He approached us and offered to organize a visit to the summit of Paricutin, the young cinder cone famous for exploding out of someone's cornfield. The offer was to ride horses around the thick lava flows, reach the summit, then return by passing by the inundated church near the volcano's base. Yes! We'll do it!

The trip was a strange adventure: we were weighed down by our backpacks (should've left them behind...), had the trail to ourselves all morning, my horse tripped and rolled us into the road, we galloped at Flo's whim, heard debates whether my horse's name was "Guapo" or "Pinata," photographed each other in the volcano's steam, skied down Paricutin's flank in our sneakers, were caught in an aguacero (sudden rainstorm as we were returning), roamed around the lava-filled church after crossing over the a`a, moaned as we tried to remount the horses because our backsides were so sore, and took some time to enjoy the central plaza of the tiny town.

The city of Colima also provided other adventures: I made several trips to the local ruins, explored the various corners of the old city and saw the still-broken remains of buildings shaken by earthquakes. There was a little time to visit some museums but it was so much more fun to be outside in the city - people watching and absorbing some of the lifestyle was definitely a highlight of my 3 months in Mexico. I had never seen so many people meticulously sweep their gardens and clean their sidewalks with such care. I would visit the yogurt shop just to hear the man tell me: "Si, hay fresa." with his expressive voice and buy bread from the woman who was also the one to explain that estampillas, not timbres can only be bought at the correo.

This was my first visit to Mexio: without a doubt, I will have to return someday. Despite the chance to travel so far north as _ and as far south as Acapulco, my experience was restricted to the west side of the country. A trip to Mexico City, to the famous ruins of the Yucatan, and to the northern canyons will have to wait for another year.

Michigan Tech '06

2008-01-19T14:27:00.002-05:00

The Year On Campus 06-07

The PCMI program (Peace Corps Master's International) on campus is actually fairly old. I learned that the Forestry Department and the Engineers (both Civil and Environmental) have been collaborating with the PC for more than 10 years. Currently, the university is developing a Science Education program that will also partner with Peace Corps, but for the moment, the Geology Department is the youngest MI program on campus. We're the pioneers: Woohoo!
_________________________________________________________________

The autumn weather in this part of the world is beautiful. Upper Peninsula weather is "special" and most would agree it's a bit infamous, but before the layers of snow close in, the warm September days are powerfully distracting as the semester begins. Like a classic New England autumn, the maples create a spectacle and follow up with a heaping mess of fallen leaves - the transition is gorgeous.

While worrying about course-load, Peace Corps paperwork, and how to prepare for a 2-year experience in a developing country, I met a lot of great people juggling the same stresses. The geo MIs made up a tight but small group, so I enjoyed sneaking into the events/gatherings of the engineers and foresters. This was especially easy since my housemates were a wonderfully mixed lot: returned volunteers, aspiring volunteers, and adopted PCMI (yes, that's you Dhita). We weren't the only house near campus that focused so much PC power, the 900 House was another magnet for us. Theme parties (the '80s will never die), socials (Jack's movie selection was topnotch!), study sessions (oh GIS), a Thanksgiving extravaganza (special thanks to Matt's Mom&Dad!), Christmas tree management (Panchita and Dhita had a vision), and overflowing washermachine events remain fixed in my memory of domestic life.
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How new is my program? New enough that the first wave of students hadn't yet returned from Peace Corps service to defend their thesis. It was possible to email the far-field students, but it was a tough way to get an introduction; this meant that very bit of advice and quickly-typed explanation helped immensely. It's not possible to feel completely prepared for the upcoming experience, but certainly over the course of 2 semesters it's possible to adjust to what is "knowable" and "unknowable." For example...

Knowable:
1. When the PC invitation letter arrives, you will celebrate.
2. When the final exams are over, you will celebrate.
3. When the Spanish skit with ghosts and jungles ends, you will celebrate.
4. When your advisor says: we'll support you, you will celebrate.

Unknowable:
1. What country you will serve in.
2. What language you should practice.
3. What thesis topic you will develop.
4. When the PC assignment will arrive.

Important Lesson:
Know when to celebrate.

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Winter Carnival on Campus:
Too famous to brush over, too important to forget photos! I could fill up a webpage full of all of the photos I took - but I won't, the university is maintaining a perfectly good site here:
http://www.mtu.edu/carnival/gallery/
I didn't try broomball, but the MTU winter was great fun. Hockey games, cross-country skiing, snowshoeing (thanks for the invitation Jim!), ice skating (you got better Matt), shoveling, hot chocolate, snow sculpture-touring ... I feel pretty good about the winter semester. I could have done without the Calculus class, but I think we all knew that from the get-go._________________________________________________________________

During both semesters, it wasn't possible to stop mulling over what the next year abroad would be like. Above all possible questions the bothered me the most, I desperately wanted to know if my country of service would offer me volcanoes. I wasn't particularly bothered by the prospect of learning an obscure new language or if I would have to cross piranha-filled rivers someday in order to reach potable water; no, I had more serious concerns. Will I have a volcano to study? This was an "unknowable," a terrible, terrible "unknowable."

Since my geology program focuses on Central American geologic hazards, I felt very comfortable with the prospect of narrowing my mulling activities to 14 countries due south of the United States. Early in the Fall Semester, I took on a project that would appear to have no definite end: a webpage.

As an attempt to both brainstorm what my future work/world would be like, I began a site that could provide information about what volcanic conditions exist in both South and Central American countries. The scope was a bit ridiculous, but I adopted a plan to post what material could possibly help me while I volunteer in the "unknowable" country. We shall see just how helpful this proves to be! _________________________________________________________________

Peace Corps Details:
The application process is long and often painful for aspirants, but I believe that I was spared quite a bit of heartache. Not many complications existed with my forms: I applied to Michigan Tech in Dec. 2005 and didn't click "Send" to complete the Peace Corps online application until August 28th, 2006 before moving to campus. My official interview was held on campus sometime in November (then stretched to a telephone conversation) and the medical checkups happened fairly easily across the Portage. The acceptance letter showed up in December, the assignment details appeared in mid-March.

Mid-March, yes! This was fairly early but certainly felt far too drawn out at the time. Was the post a surprise? Yes to that as well.

Life before the PCMI Program

2008-01-19T14:00:00.000-05:00

After moving around a bit, it's hard to remember all of the dates.
http://history-jah.blogspot.com/

PCMI Panama

Muchas gracias a todos y todas

39 Days

The Inauguration Party

Water v.2.0

Water!

Project: Aqueduct

Peace Corps in the news - LA Times

More Americans turning to Peace Corps

Peace Corps in Panama

Anniversary

Project: Aqueduct

Tribute to Earth Day

"Rocky" Crandell

Fieldwork, continued

Project: Volcan Baru

Project: Volcan Baru

Vacation

Challenge: Return to the Summit

Happy Holidays!

Project: Volcan Baru

Project: Aqueduct Design

Project: Composting Latrine

Cultural Differences

September Success

Chakareros...

Construction & Juntas

Planting Rice

A review of spiders

A review of critters

Do you think it will work? - It'll take a miracle.

"¿Saca mi foto?"

When no one is looking...

Priorities

Cordillera Crossing

Winter Again

Not 9-to-5

What´s New?

Solution: Travel

Volcano Fieldwork Part 2

Volcano Fieldwork Part 1

Panama City

Fieldwork In Burica

Christmas '07

First 3 Months

Swear In

Peace Corps Training

Colima, Mexico '07

Michigan Tech '06

Life before the PCMI Program