Life in the jungle 1965-70

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We flew into Panama City every few months on tiny airplanes,  (you know that if a plane falls over the jungle you will never be found, it just closes around you) my husband more frequently then I, He would bring back food and books magazines and chocolate.  It was a difficult time for me and he didn’t really understand that as he had his own devils to deal with.  When in the city we stayed in his mother’s home that was the pit stop for families in town or kids going to school.  His Mother was retired as director of a school and was the primary caregiver to two young granddaughters.

His sister lived there too and was employed by a US agency, she spoke perfect English but didn’t have much to say to me during those first difficult years.  She did us a kindness sending everything needed for a Thanksgiving dinner to El Real one year.    We were able to share it with some visiting scientists, a real Thanksgiving dinner, they were very surprised and certainly didn’t expect to have turkey on good china that  Thanksgiving!

We were married for 30 years, some were the best years of my life but there were times when I wanted to run home, I guess that happens in many marriages, especially when opposites marry and are unable to make allowances for each other.  The years in Darien were made more difficult by the cantinas.  My husband had a weakness and I didn’t know how to deal with it, It seemed there was nothing else for a man to do in El Real, drink and play dominoes. My saving grace was that another PCV gave me his peace corp library when he left Panama.  I read while he spent time at the cantina with other like-minded souls.  I had my children to keep me busy, his fathering skills were underdeveloped.  Part of his frustration was because his father didn’t allow him to use the skills he had learned in his studies at LSU so he was unable to implement new systems for the finca.  He was and is a good man and now is married to a woman he has   more in common with and I am very happy for him, we were married for 30 years before I left.

We are still in El Real at this point in my story.603084_10200360869493965_97206560_n

This is a photo of the family home in El Real, my daughter has a watercolor painting of it and in it, it is a very elegant structure.  But by 1965 it is getting tired looking.  My daughter has the painting because she was born in this house.

My first two children were born in Panama city in a hospital,  I would live in the city for the last month of pregnancy just waiting to get this done so I could go back home to El Real with my new baby.

My second was born in the city as well but my last baby came a bit before expected and she was born at home with Carmen, a midwife from town. My brother-in-law Doctor was spending a few days during Easter and was there for delivery but doubted me when I told him the baby was ready to be born that day.    So I made preparations. Carmen and I did all the work. It went fine but for some reason tears flowed for hours after the birth, uncontrolled, just tears falling, not crying but the tears just kept rolling down, we told the kids that a big mosquito had stung me and that’s why mamá is crying. I was happy to see my Mother-in-law come to help me a few days later when there were flights after the Easter holiday.

Scan 141Baby was without a name for a week while we thought of a name for this beautiful baby.  I wanted a name my family could pronounce correctly as they had trouble with Marissa and Enrique.  I wanted to name her after my sisters and tried combinations of their names Sharon and Nancy but ended up just using Nancy.  I needed help giving her the first bath because I couldn’t stand up after delivery.  I think had a subluxation of my coccyx (displaced tailbone) that corrected itself after a couple days, so a cousin gave her the first bath. Odd, I never said anything about it to the Doctor or anyone, they probably thought I was just a lazy wimp.

Carmen pierced her ears a few days later.

Notes from a Friend

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I can’t seem to add a comment that was made on my facebook page or sent to my email, seems they have to be added here under comments.  so I’m adding Janet’s comment here.

Comment: Living in El Real was the most amazing experience of my life – (with the exception of birthing and raising my children, of course)! As you mention above, Bob an I spent most of our time upriver, working with the Choco Indians. We had several projects in El Real, however, the most successful being an English class. One of the students went on to work with the Smithsonian Institute, at Barro Colorado Island, attributing his ability to get the job to his English-speaking ability. He is now retired. I have seen him three times through the years since leaving Panama, and he calls me every couple months.Time: January 13, 2018 at 9:51 am

Contact Form URL: https://tailgateart-othon.com/2018/01/10/the-town-of-el-real-de-la-santa-maria-1965/
Thanks, Janet!  Got more stories?

The Mail thief, Fruit Cake, Army Cot, & my Perico .

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Getting and sending mail from El Real was an iffy proposition.  It happened that my outgoing letters to the family were held up by the person responsible for the mail. He kept the money I gave him for the stamps and was found out by my friend who to happened to see them in this person’s home. I got them all back. Things like that were not unusual for me, not everyone was kind.

I lived in a small room in the hospital and slept on an army cot, it was my only piece of furniture besides my black trunk. I’d brought from home a small tocadiscos phonograph and a couple albums to play,  living in the hospital meant I had electricity during the day with their generator, while the rest of the town only had it from 6pm until midnight. Between the Doctors quarters and my quarters and the hospital ward there was a small screened visiting room where I spent time with my  English speaking friend who helped me adjust to my new circumstances. The Doctors wife wasn’t able to be in the sun and spent her days with her son in their room, she didn’t speak English and you know my Spanish was non-existent at that time so we didn’t spend time together. I had a perico (small green bird) that stayed on my shoulder (clipped wings) as I walked around town until I sat on it.   He (?) was sitting on my cot, I didn’t see him. So Sad.

Somehow my grandmother was able to send me two huge dark fruitcakes for several years and it was a royal treat to share with friends. They were sent to the Panama City address and then sent on to El Real via the daily flights from Panama City to El Real. We were so happy to have and share them. ( I was even moved to bake fruitcake heavy on the rum myself for a few years.)

It’s funny that while I  look back on a memory, other related memories crowd in and  I have to make room for it. It’s the details that make a story spark,  I’m trying for the spark!

I admit to being guilty of not fulfilling my two-year obligation to the Peace Corps.  I mentioned this in an earlier post but as I said, I stayed in my ‘town’ for 6 years, leaving when my daughter was ready to start school.  She was thrilled to start school as a listener in her uniform with her two friends in El Real but it was time for us to go live in the big city. Love that photo!

oh yeah,

I married the English speaking friend.977820_10201361120219608_1552873028_o

 

Baby Diapers & My Minnesota Parents in El Real

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What can you write about babies diapers?  Plenty if you live in Panama, either in the city or in the jungle.  There was a particular way I was told to wash diapers

  • rinse them out with soapy water
  • lay them in the sun
  • wash them again
  • rinse them again
  • any spotted diapers go back in the sun
  • rinse again
  • hang to dry

repeat every day. Or give them to be washed in the river by AnaJulia?

 No

I washed my babies diapers always, though I did have to take them on horseback to wash them in a clean river when the aqueduct was broken so no good water in the pipes that day.

When my parents were visiting the aqueduct again was broken, my Mom and I took them to the river on foot this time.  Not sure what my Mom thought of all this, but she was a good sport and had a story to tell back home.

I believe those are my husband’s clothes there. ***Scan66 copy

When my parents came to visit the first time, they came to El Real on the tiny airplanes and were really good sports about everything because as luck would have it nothing worked while they were there.  The aqueduct was broken so the water in the shower and bathrooms didn’t work and we had to bring up water to the 2nd floor for showers in tubs with totumas (gourds) to splash over ourselves to bathe.  I always bathed in the afternoon when the water was warm. My father-in-law was in residence and he had men bring water up into another tank so it would flow from the shower head for them.  We had a rodeo of sorts where my Dad helped emasculate cows and inject medicine into them while we watched sipping fresh coconut milk from a palm climbed by kids and opened by machete, everyone carries one no? Dad loved it    74540_10200360875214108_1190582922_n

We made tamales while my parents were there and my mother-in-law directed the activity.  It meant we needed chickens and pork cooked, corn ground and cooked for the masa,   2 types of leaves for them to be wrapped in, inner and outer layers, no corn husks here, .pickles, onions,  and   tamales were  made with each  person’s favorite bit of meat or part of chicken, and marked  with a string or colored bit of cloth to tell whose is whose.  They are the best tamales I’ve ever tasted, have not tasted one better, but this production is not for the weak of heart, it takes all day to make and you need a team!   It was a New Years event much anticipated by those lucky enough to get one.

 

*****Many of my Darien photos are here though the generosity of my friend Janet Fish.

Looking back……2017

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I’ve had some changes in the past year that I think has been pretty good for me.  A year older for sure, I wish I had not waited so long to make changes. Feelings of restlessness, of being pretty sure that I was not finished learning new things, about myself and about the world I’d created around me

. IMG_0007_2 (my painting)

I had been living in Austin while studinging Chinese Medicinefinishing up credits to take my RN boards, passing both and working in a Doctors office doing triage and some acupuncture.  It was a busy time that I should have been just studying not working because the concepts of Chinese medicine are quite different from western medicine and not easy for a person versed in our style of medicine to grasp. So I  benefited during those 3 years of study, enjoyed my Professor Bindi Zhu and was successful treating patients but never completely used my new skills.  I went back to nursing doing home care and finally began the highlight of my nursing experience in Hospice Care.

When my daughter had her first child I quit my job and sold my home and went to Florida to help,  I continued to do so until last year. I lived close by in a condo while in Florida and in their basements in Virgina  About 12 years in all.  And it was fine, wonderful in fact, but then the boys grew up, didn’t need so much hands-on attention, were involved in sports and middle school I became a chauffeur.

It was time for me to move on, at least for awhile, while I still can. I’m already 75!

My lovely sister said to come back to Texas and I did.  Some tears shed on both sides of the windshield both my daughter’s tears and mine.

I moved into a one bedroom apartment in Plano TX  for a year and found that my income would soon not be enough when the rent went up as it always does each year. My sister saved me again with an offer to live with them for a while, saving money for my next move.

I was painting and selling my work at craft fairs, even bought a tent and tables all the stuff needed to attend Saturday farmers markets but this is physically challenging for me plus  I’m not very good at selling and managing the business.  My sister is stronger (and 6 years younger) but she became less enthusiastic quickly. I understand and so I bought a printer that I can make prints of my paintings and sell online someday, maybe.

Sold the printer as I would not be able to take it in my RV, too heavy  too big so that info has been deleted here

Living with my sister and husband for the past 4 months have been a perfect interlude but I can’t stay here forever so I am making new plans.

FFA-L-0027   I’ll share the thought process here,

 

 

The Town of El Real de la Santa Maria, Darién Panamá 1965

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Hello!   I invite friends and family to add your memories of El Real here on the contacts form at the end of this post.  I’m sure they will be of interest to many readers.  Thanks

602731_10200360877014153_1961031867_nWhen I lived in El Real the town had two communities on either side of the town, Pueblo Nuevo and the school on one side and the town proper with the three streets on the other side.  The Guardia had their office and jail on this side. There were 3 stores owned by Chinese residents, 312298_10200360868213933_1954025488_na church, and a library544016_10200360868533941_360377730_n. And three cantinas.

No paved roads, there was nowhere to go anyway. During the dry season, a truck could get to the farm.  During the wet season, even the horses had a difficult time getting through the mud.Scan 142me on a horse and a cowboy.

The Library only had political books, no light reading! I regret not having used some influence in getting books for the library, it would have been a good PCV project or even as a resident a project I could have gotten started.  But I was young and a little overwhelmed and intimidated.

The hospital had an operating room for when the MD was there, a postpartum room but most women gave birth at home.  There was a larger sala for patients but if someone was really ill or injured they were flown to Panama City for care. Employees at the hospital lived in the hospital as I did.

Here are ladies hanging out on the steps of the hospital3818_10200360869173957_711626754_n

I remember an incident, while The doctor and the nurses were busy with a difficult delivery and I was hanging around the sala when a man yelled and started blowing into the ear of a woman in bed, to do CPR I guessed, I took over and so I am the godmother of a child as a result.  I’m not sure what was going on there but they seemed to think I had saved her life and so as godmother to her child, I was expected to gift the child with earrings, so I did..

The residents of El Real were a mix of transient Colombian, Chinese, Panamanian and a few from the interior areas north of Panama City, commonly called ‘the interior’.  Those from ‘the interior were more likely to work in agriculture and have small farms. I definitely stood out in a crowd.  My husband had family in El Real that I sometimes visited with but my Spanish was truly terrible limiting our conversations and the support I could have gotten from them.

I’m not one to judge anyone’s morality but life was hard for many and one did what one did to survive if not thrive. There were few jobs for the residents and many government jobs were filled with people from outside the community. I didn’t get a sense of community in El Real but that may be just who I was in those circumstances.  I’ve seen photos of the current El Real and many changes have been made and I think I would feel welcome now, but of course, I am not the same person now….and now my Spanish is better!

I did form some lasting relationships especially with the mother of my daughter’s friends, a  popular school teacher, and respected leader of the community. New PCV’s sent to this area were not sent there alone anymore, just couples  The most successful couple, the Fish’s were the most active PCV’s, he was a biologist and was in jungle heaven, their projects involved the Choco Indians and they spent less time in town more time up the river.  I know that Janet still communicates with friends she made there and I am blessed to be a good friend of hers today. Thanks to Janet for this and other photos.Scan133 copy

whatifidon’tknowidon’tknow?

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ifiamconfusedaboutwhatcomesnextdoesthatmeanineverknew?

whatshouldidoifican’trememberwhoiam?

Do you wonder if this is how a person with dementia might feel?  Or is it a blank slate with memories only to rise to the surface now and again often not enough to be a positive factor, but heartbreaking to friends and family that see a spark that doesn’t light up anything.

I was a hospice nurse for my last ten years of nursing and dementia was not a diagnosis we would see for hospice care unless the disease was the very late stage.

 

 

I suppose we have all seen the images of our elderly in nursing homes tied into wheelchairs looking out blankly nonverbal and sad.  Their fate is a huge question because many patients with dementia are in otherwise good health and can stay in these circumstances for many years.  One doesn’t usually die of dementia but of the complications of dementia.

Finally, some serious money is going into research on Alzheimer’s because we are all getting old, concerns of our aging population become the concerns of these aging scientists, doctors, and philanthropists.  Maybe an answer will be found beside good living, good diet, healthy relationships that we probably all know we should value and seek but continue on our way because that’s what we do.

I’m 75 and I would say a good 75.  One might think that I am not thinking logically or am not taking seriously the hazards of my plan to invest in a vehicle I can live in but the upside of the argument seems to be much greater than the downside… to me. I’ll discuss this in another post because so far no one but me sees the upside,  only the problems I  could encounter.

My sister thinks I haven’t thought it out clearly.

She may be right.

 

 

Driving Dilemas & Near Disasters & a Distraught Mom

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gorgas hospitalA nice red Volkswagon; sold to me by a Doctor I worked with was my first real possession in Panama.  We were living in the city still in my mother-in-law’s home and I’d started to work at the Gorgas Community hospital, ( photo) my baby was 4 months old when I got the job as LPN working in a clinic.  Every day I had to find a way to get to and from and I was tired of taxis and buses so when she had a car for sale I jumped for it without telling my husband who was still in Darien.  (and he was not happy about this gringa who does her own thing, machismo in action.)

Anyway, I had not driven a stick shift and she was happy to teach me.  Kids in the car and off we went.  unfortunately,  where we went was to Panama Viejo ruins and there was a Guardia stop which I failed to make and so was whistled to stop. All he wanted was for me to back up and make the stop.  I didn’t know how to back up, had not had that lesson yet.  He had me get out of the car and into the office and asked me where my husband was. ( of course) I told him he was in Darien and couldn’t come to the office.  I shed a tear or two hoping that would help my cause and finally a ticket was made out… to the Doctor and we were free to go.  She even paid the ticket!  What a good friend but I must say that we were taking chances having the kids in the car and me such a novice driving.

I had not driven when I lived in MN.    I learned to drive a landrover in Darien, one of our guys taught me but with only 3 streets to learn on I guess I never had to back up.

Scan 185 We/ I had that car for quite awhile and it is remembered for another incident that happened.  My husband had a new car now, my red Volkswagen was not his style, and I still used the volks, it was my son’s birthday and we went out to do something and my daughter was in the front seat unhooked without safety belt (no one used them in Panama  at that time) The door swung open going around a curb and she fell out the door!  My heart stopped, I stopped and an oncoming car stopped to block traffic while I jumped out an grabbed her swept her up and off we went to the hospital.  Whew! It was so scary.  She was seen immediately in the ER and X-rays were taken of her neck which seemed to be all that bothered her, she stayed in the hospital overnight with me beside her.  Guilt! Terrible mother letting her child fall out of a moving car. But you know what, that door had been giving me problems and I’d told my husband about it with no response on his part, of course, that does not take the blame from me.