What Are We Doing Here?

(written on June 11th)

My name is Caitlin Levine and I am a Senior Staff member of an organization called [NGO].  This year, in collaboration with the General Congress of Guna Culture, we will begin an initiative in 19 of the 28 communities here in the first sector of Guna Yala.

We as an organization believe that youth everywhere have the power to make positive changes in their communities.  We believe that every young person in the world has the potential to lead.  We believe that cultural exchange and community development, however that manifests itself in Guna Yala, are two paths towards reaching this potential.  We also believe in the mission of the Cultural Congress: to promote and strengthen the Guna culture, especially amongst youth, within these communities.

Our 45 high school-aged volunteers will spend 5 weeks, in groups of 2 or 3, on one of 19 islands in Guna Yala.  They will stay with host families—they will eat typical Guna food, sleep in hammocks each night just as the Guna do, and live as a part of their community.  They will not teach, nor are they trained to do so.  They will collaborate with their communities, especially with youth, to facilitate educational activities that aim to promote traditional cultural practices.  They are here to motivate, to support, to join forces, and to learn.

Is that cool with you?

But wait, seriously.  What is positive change?  Whose definition of “positive” are we working with here?  What does it even mean to “lead?”  Is cultural exchange really a path to developing leadership skills, making good choices, and making the world a better place?  What is a “good” choice?  When we talk about “community development,” what does that actually mean?  Even when you can move beyond the typical western perception of this phrase (i.e. construction, industrialization, coming into a rural region with a plan and “leaving your mark”), you might arrive at the word “progress” or “growth.”  But even those words are so contextually dependent.  I don’t know what “progress” is in Guna Yala, Panama, a semi-autonomous region home to an indigenous Indian population whose communities are so closed off that the approximate albino birth rate is more than 1 in 150 (so actually, that has nothing to do with why I don’t know the answers, but I think it’s really fascinating).

Everything is arbitrary.  Context is everything.  While [NGO] claims to hold this unbiased position in every country in which we have presence, we assume that all of our definitions of “leadership” and “positive” and “progress” are the same, for the most part.  And, honestly, [NGO] doesn’t even have working definitions of these words.  With my understanding of the western definition of “progress” in mind (i.e. evolution, changing something for the better and not reverting back to the past), the “work” volunteers will be carrying out Guna Yala is backwards.  But for this region, it is growth.  It is restoration.  This is something that I think our 16- to 17-year-old volunteers will have a very hard time grasping.  It is hard for us as a staff to label concretely.

This region has been screwed over before.  What reason do the Guna have to trust us not to take their pictures and use them in a brochure to promote our organization, to learn to make their traditional crafts and profit ourselves, or to make offensive comments about their cultural ceremonies?  We’re just another U.S. NGO.  Are we just here to prove that we’re the most culturally sensitive organization on the block and that we can have a presence here without fucking everything up?

Shit is getting real.  We make presentation after presentation to community leaders; some go wonderfully (i.e., the organization and idea are embraced), and sometimes we are questioned.  Today, it was the latter.  It’s like we’re pulling teeth to be accepted.  It’s fine, even great, that these communities aren’t just letting any old person in with open arms.  But what if we are just weaseling our way in, like they’re just accepting our presence rather than actually feeling passionate about what is supposed to be our shared mission?

What Are We Doing Here?

At 2 this morning, amidst an intense thunderstorm, Gregorio, our Panamanian staff member, received an email about an earthquake and tsunami in Panama.  For a minute, we thought we were going to have to evacuate the country, leaving the island via aircraft…or boat.  For one second, maybe even just a split second, I thought, “we could actually die.”  Never in my entire life have I thought that truly.  We called our International Office, and they found nothing on the news.  No trace of this information.  It was a total fluke—spam or something.  Really legitimate spam.  And, obviously, nothing happened.  We’re great.

Maybe that’s a sort of intense metaphor for right now—I kind of feel like we’re sinking.  For about an hour this afternoon, I was thinking for sure that this would never happen—or, at least, I was out.  But maybe it’s just a fluke and our moral compasses will stop spinning like mad and we’ll figure out what’s right.

¡Panamá!

Hey all!  After a 9-month hiatus, the blog is back!  I can't promise that these updates will be as long and detailed as last year (but maybe you'll all be thankful for that), but I'll try to get you the sparknotes as often as possible. :)

It's been about a week since I arrived in Panama City, Panama and began work as Senior Project Supervisor for a new initiative in Guna Yala, Panama with Amigos de las Americas.  Guna Yala is a semi-autonomous region of Panama, called a Comarca, on the northern Caribbean coast, where the indigenous Guna people live on a gorgeous archipelago.  But, as we all know, pictures are worth a thousand words, so here is a picture I took of one island on my first visit there this week:

All summer, I will be sleeping in one of these (in a house on one of the islands that has yet to be discovered by our staff team):

Most of this week has just been errands, errands, errands in Panama City to prepare for our (eventual) semi-permanent housing in Guna Yala.  We've purchased everything from a printer to life vests to granola bars; our favorite place to shop ever is the Machetazo, a ginormous superstore that sells absolutely everything.  There are aisles that look like this (it's tuna):

We've staying in a number of interesting hotels and hostels, most recently having the pleasure of meeting some crazy Irishmen and an old Spanish señor that hung his ginormous white briefs in our public dorm space.  There's no picture of that, thank goodness.  But instead I'll share a gorgeous view of the Panama City skyline from our first hotel:

I head to the islands again tomorrow, this time with Lauren and Morgan, the Project Director and Associate Project Director for our project, to find a house and really start to prepare for Supervisor arrival on June 7th.  So far, all we really know is that it's going to be a total adventure.  Starting an AMIGOS project from scratch, I have learned, is no walk in the park. ;)  But it's a good thing I'm working with a team of rockstars (Lauren and Morgan, pictured below).

   

¡Hasta la proxima!

Dear Old UVA

It was pretty challenging to jump right into college life after two-and-a-half months in Latin America.  There was no time to decompress, and it was hard not to talk about Nicaragua every second of the day.  Actually, sometimes I still find it difficult.  But anyway...I'm a little over one month into my new, unchanging lifestyle, and it's pretty good.  I know that "good" is the most non-descript word in the English language, but that's really how I feel.  Not much color or spice to add to it yet-- I'm just content.

Life is easy, despite the occasional academic stressors.  It's actually very relaxing to be in my own country.  My suite-mates are lovely people--all very different from each other and very different from me, but we have some great times and get along fantastically.  There's a ton of reading that I generally don't want to do, but I do it anyway--I've been pretty good about getting my work done!  My classes are usually really interesting, and I survived my first exam today (read as: exam, quiz, and paper due all in the same 4 hours), concluding my first college Hell Week ever--and, honestly, it wasn't bad.  Not to say I got excellent grades or anything--I really have no idea--but it wasn't too overwhelming, and I think that's because I got pretty intense about time management this summer.

I am also so, so, SO happy to be singing in a choir again!  We have a retreat this weekend and I am ridiculously excited to finally get to know people in the group.  I feel like I haven't really found my "scene" yet, and I have a lot of faith that these people might be it.  I mean, I'm getting into a lot of things and they're fun...but I'm just not totally comfortable anywhere yet.  I tried the LGBT group which was pretty interesting, but I'm not sure.  I also just started working as a volunteer Spanish interpreter at the hospital, which is CRAZY.  I am learning words like tingling and spleen and....bunion.  It's so freaking scary right now because I do need to get more confident with medical Spanish, but I'm sure once I get the hang of things, I'll love it--I'm looking forward to a really awesome experience there.  I'm also a "Sustainability Advocate," meaning I get to preach about recycling and reusable to-go dining hall containers and turning off the lights and stuff without sounding super annoying!  It's the best!  And I joined Circle K, a service group on grounds, which has been pretty awesome for making friends.

On a random note, my "home suite home" is ridiculously far away from everything, and I think that is definitely altering my experience here a bit.  Most first-years can roll out of bed and get to class in ten minutes, but I am one of the lucky few who have to trudge half an hour to central grounds.  It's a little less social, but it's kind of nice to have a suite instead of living in a real "dorm."  It makes me feel a bit more sophisticated, like having a house with roommates instead of living on a crazy hall.

Things are nice.  I'm happy here.  This isn't my home yet, but I'm pretty optimistic!

Adios, Nicaraguita

I definitely failed to update you all on the actual goings-on of the project when I promised…two weeks ago? It should come as no surprise that I have had literally no time to do so between hopping through rural Nicaraguan communities, working virtually non-stop on paperwork, herding people around tourist cities, formally putting things to an end, and just generally being busier than I ever have in my entire life. But I am pretty darn content about it.

The responsibilities that came with this job have challenged me and excited me from the beginning, but something about the end of the summer—filling out evaluation after evaluation, witnessing the drive that my volunteers put forth in the last week of the project, planning debriefing, the typical dramas of Staff House intensified, seeing all of my volunteers together again—simultaneously weighed down on my shoulders like a ton of bricks and left me feeling invincible, and like a proud and influential mother. As I assessed my volunteers’ and superiors’ performance this summer and came up with feedback on how each of them could grow as leaders, I really felt like a professional for the first time: busy, authoritative, constructive, influential. It was such a blissful thing to watch all of my volunteers finish up their projects, reflect on their summers and feel so genuinely proud of what they had accomplished, no matter how difficult it had been for some of them at times.

Pictures of cool stuff that happened in communities recently:

Volunteers and community members in La India with a trash can they made this summer!

Baby Camilo Harrington Garcia Masis, named after two of my volunteers.  Most awesome thing ever.

With dozens of hours of educational activities completed, gardens planted, bricks laid, fences in the ground, memories made, lessons learned, my volunteers left their communities after a jam-packed summer, excited to get home to share their experiences with everyone they know, but also teary-eyed and feeling alone. Even my emotions were intense as I empathized so much with parting volunteers and host families and relived a bit of my own experience in Paraguay. But after a short goodbye party complete with 150 Nicaraguans of all ages, a Latino-style talent show, tacos, and cinnamon-roll hugs, all 70 volunteers and staff crammed into a single bus and rode off to Granada, mostly cheerful, for a day of debriefing and some lovely times in the city. (Minus the part where we all boarded the bus again at 2 am two days later to get to the airport, only to discover that the volunteers’ flight had been delayed three hours and that almost everyone would be missing their connecting flights. That sucked! But…the unexpected is to be expected on an AMIGOS summer, right??)

The next day, supervisors went back on route to do our final community close-outs and evaluations of the projects with community members (in my case, that meant waking up in the dark for the second day in a row, at 5 am, to catch a 6 o’clock bus…after sleeping for only 6 hours between the two nights prior). Strangely, I was totally nervous about closing the projects out; I was supposed to organize meetings in all four of my communities with as many people as possible to get an idea of what went well, what didn’t, and what could be improved upon. And—welcome to Latin America—the largest meeting I was able to get together consisted of 15 people, despite frequent reminders and PRINTED invitations made by a local youth counterpart. In two communities, I ended up having to go door-to-door to get information because 3 people or fewer showed up to my planned meeting. Normally in this kind of situation, I would be bothered. I would be really disappointed in myself for not being able to stick to my plan, for not preparing well enough. But in one way or another, I got the information I needed, and I just had to accept the fact that I’ll have to figure something else out for next time. That is fine. Being unsuccessful is okay—who knew?!

Last moments with Denis and Yunior, two fantastic youth counterparts in the community of El Jocote, after my only slightly successful participatory evaluation.

After those two long days in communities, on the 12th, we all returned to Staff House to finish all of our remaining paperwork and get everything ready to be officially done.  By 3 pm on the 13th, we were completely paperwork free and had the entire house emptied; we squished our 9-person staff team and 18 backpacks/pieces of luggage into a small jeep and hit the road! Destination: Laguna de Apoyo, where our staff spent the next two days lounging in the beautiful lagoon, napping to make up for all of that lost sleep, surfing around OKCupid, and intentionally violating a large majority of the Standards of Conduct that we were required to abide by as AMIGOS workers. A ridiculously interesting way to close out the project and the summer, to say the least.

Currently, Seth and I are thousands of feet in the air somewhere between Managua and Atlanta, Georgia. This is the first time I’ve been in transit home this year and thought that I’d be happier staying where I was. It’s sad, having to leave so many people and things that I have grown to love so, so much. It makes me feel empty. But it’s also kind of a nice feeling, being absolutely certain that the past two months were worth it.

It was hard for me to hear that most of my fellow staff members—and even many volunteers—were so excited to see such a stressful summer come to an end. I can’t say I loved having to use a maggot-infested latrine in the pitch black of night, sitting in front of computer for a consecutive 12+ hours doing paperwork on a handful of occasions, having to deal firsthand with the gender inequalities in this country, or experiencing a lot of the difficult feelings that come from working so closely with the same group of people for so long. But I am leaving this experience a more responsible decision-maker, a more effective communicator, a better team-worker, a better leader, and a more confident person. And I never, ever could have foreseen the affection and warmth I felt these past two months. I have laughed and smiled so much and been taught more than I could ever imagine, and am leaving Nicaragua thirsty for more adventure, knowledge and love.

A year ago today was my first full day in Ecuador. I start college in two days. Life is so quick.

Birthday Week! (A Belated Entry)

I am pretty disappointed in myself for not having posted last week, after the most incredible and legitimate BIRTHDAY WEEK of my life! It's been crazy busy here, as always, which leaves very little time for social media ;).

Starting from where I left off, last week's theme was definitely love and appreciation...and cake. I visited my four different communities and was showered with surprise birthday festivities in all of them.

On Tuesday, I was totally surprised by a birthday cake/dance party in El Jocote with Josh, Brandon, Yunior, Denis, and other community members. They were super sneaky--despite various obvious hints they gave my by accident, I didn't notice a thing!

On Wednesday, something similar occured in La Lagunita with Sara, Lynn, and our friends in the community-- despite having already been surprised, I was not expecting a second celebration. It was just as awesome!! We danced in Sara's host family's fiesta attire.

On Thursday, the night before my birthday, I spent the night in Agua Fria with Camille, Brenna, and Kenzie. They had been scheming with our friend, Nora, and she woke us up at 5 in the morning to the loudest, cheesiest Latin American birthday music imaginable. (Blast this at the highest level through your speakers and you'll probably get about half the sound we experienced that morning...!) We crawled back in bed to savor our final moments before the sun came up, and Nora got us out of bed again at 6:15 for a "birthday surprise!" So, at the buttcrack of dawn on July 29th, we each cut ourselves a thick slice of Nica-cake and happily consumed it for Birthday Breakfast.

Later that night, I was surprised in an entirely different way when my volunteers poured talcum powder all over by body, apparently a Nicaraguan birthday tradition (I felt lucky though--it was better than raw egg, in my opinion, which I have seen done for birthdays here!). So...that happened...and then I took a lovely bucket shower in the dark.

When I came back to staff house on Saturday, we had an awesome taco dinner, another cake (not complaining ;) ) and an awesome piñata-- with UVA colors!!

In conclusion, I don't know if I have ever felt so loved. Most exciting and eventful birthday week ever! And...I swear I will update with more legitimate project-related stuff tomorrow--there's lots of it!

Growth and Progress

The past two weeks have been nothing less than a whirlwind. Time has passed so ridiculously quickly here; moving between communities daily and then just starting the process all over again each Tuesday makes weeks feel like days and days feel like hours. Last week especially, the flying time meant feeling rushed, overwhelmed, not thorough, and often at fault, both at staff house and with my volunteers. This week, lessons learned, it meant excitement, productivity, making confident decisions, feeling pressure to succeed, and pushing my volunteers and communities to do the same.

Rewinding to where we left off: I started Week 2 a bit of a mess, if I do say so myself. Some unfinished business at staff house left me a bit preoccupied when I went out into my communities. A phone call from Senior Staff in the middle of the week made me (pretty irrationally) feel like I wasn't being trusted to do my job. For some reason, I was being asked a lot of questions that I felt like I didn't have good answers for, which stressed me out on top of thinking about these other things that were also out of my control. The whole time, I was on edge, thinking that at any moment I could make a really terrible decision and get myself or volunteers in trouble. I was under the impression, after leaving for route on uncomfortable terms with a few staff members and after having received the phone call in the middle of the week (that seemed like a big deal in the moment, but really wasn't), that I had a lot of explaining to do when I got back to staff house. The stakes of my job and the responsibility that I have this summer really hit me hard; unlike any other time prior this summer, I had a moment of panic when I remembered just how many people are depending on me to make smart choices.

I got homesick for the first time; my life would be stress-free right now if I just hadn't done this, I thought. I needed someone to tell me I was doing a good job, that my feelings were valid, that I had made the right decisions, even if it wasn't true. When I got back to staff house, I couldn't figure out how to start talking to people about my emotions, so I just didn't for a while, and people noticed. Others in the house were angry at for some of the same reasons I was, and I was feeding off of them.

While being coaxed to discuss issues with my directors, I had a realization: I was not handling my discomfort and stress well. I was too nervous to talk about it because I didn't want anyone angry and I really didn't want my problems to be deemed ridiculous. But something that has been stressed a lot this summer, obviously, is giving and receiving feedback in a healthy and constructive way, so I decided to challenge myself to be open. It took me a while, but while half the staff was still up brooding at midnight on the first night home last weekend, I sat down with my Project Director and tried to tell her everything that was on my mind. I was nervous to hear what she had to say, and I was also worried about the reaction I would get when I gave her the feedback that I felt was necessary for me to feel supported. But it felt great to be honest, and she seriously took what I had to say into account. It showed throughout the weekend, too, as personal issues between staff members were resolved quickly after. In addition, throughout the weekend I was pushed--in a good way--to make decisions confidently and to take things into my own hands without a second thought. "Why should I be doing this?" turned into "Why SHOULDN'T I be doing this?!" basically overnight.

That weekend, I organized with my communities the ordering, pick-up and transportation of project materials to their respective work areas. I went with community leaders to hardware stores and troubleshooted issues that arose with money, missing construction supplies, and other random hiccups that honestly seem much bigger than any 18-year-old American should really have the privilege of dealing with. Throughout the process, I was really appreciative of the brainstorming I could do with my Project Director-- she made it so clear that I was capable of doing everything I needed to do and that she could support me without making decisions for me. She trusted me to do all of this, and while I imagine that was true from the beginning, it was really clear to me all of the sudden. Because she made a point to show that she was confident in me and support me in problem-solving when I needed it, I left for Week 3 refreshed and ready to do my job better than ever.

Just between this week and last, I feel myself growing. I am so much more comfortable giving people feedback and communicating openly. I obviously still feel a great deal of responsibility weighing on my shoulders, but I don't feel like I'm being watched or like I have to explain every move I make. I am trusted to do what is best because I know the communities, I know my volunteers, and I AM qualified to be asserting myself.

This week was lovely. Almost all project materials were taken care of, but of course not without issues arising here and there. But I was able to avoid thinking "if _______ hadn't happened, then I wouldn't have to go out of my way to _______," and rather just considered each extra errand I had to run as part of the process. It felt good not to be bogged down by silly things that don't matter; I am learning to be more flexible. I have a lot to improve upon this summer still, and I am excited to actively solicit feedback and push myself to be a better teammate and leader for the rest of my time here.

I am so happy, and it feels so great.

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EDIT: Here's a map of the AMIGOS work area this summer! Staff lives in Matagalpa-- the communities I visit are El Jocote, Lagunita, Agua Fria and Santa Cruz de la India.

Route Week 1: Done!

For me, this week marked the REAL beginning of the summer, what I came to do here, what I'll remember when I leave. For the first time, I traveled to each of my communities and actually saw volunteers in action, gave them feedback and suggestions, dealt with their diarrhea and homesickness (I can now discuss my and others' bowel movements/other bodily functions with the same comfort and ease that I talk about what I had for dinner last night. And, don't worry, everyone is alive and well!), and was able to really start connecting with volunteers and community members. This week, I think, was even more empowering than survey.

Things that made my heart leap with joy this week:

1. Sleeping in my exceedingly awkward "portable bedroom" in random people's houses.  This is one of my least intrusive and uncomfortable set-ups of the week.  I wish I had gotten pictures of them all!

2. Seeing volunteers with their host families and partners and knowing that they are--or soon will be--closer than they ever imagined.

3. Everyone--volunteers and kids--getting SO excited about educational activities and games.  Also, volunteers working healthily together and stepping out of their comfort zones.

Of course, there are some lows: taking sick volunteers to the clinic, chasing people around to collect things and get work done, having to take responsibility for so many things, being expected to know the answers almost all the time, living out of a camping backpack (surprisingly stressful) and generally being unsure-- I'm still so new at this and every day scares me a little. But I actually think that's good (which goes without saying). And nothing can compare to the feeling of arriving in each community and being greeted with the most ginormous smiles and hugs from volunteers and community members alike who are genuinely overjoyed to see me. I love the work and I love my volunteers and I love (almost) everyone else. ;)

Today will be errands, errands, errands. Sending mail, buying volunteers' forgotten items, meeting with staff and partner agency, exchanging money at the bank, other little things. And tomorrow, we'll be off again to begin Week 2!