This may be a long one, so strap in!

I’m going to start from where I am and work backwards. So I just got done waiting outside my house which I locked myself out of. I have two locks inside, one of which doesn’t really function and I have no key for. As I left my house Thursday morning I closed the door and heard a slight “click”- immediate panic ensued. I was trying to leave quickly after all! So I panic tried to open it with force (not smart) and then ran to my backdoor to try and open that as well… to no avail. I cursed every lock I’d ever known… HOW DARE MY HOUSE BE SAFE! (Later I will be told I can’t open the back because of the pick locks I have…I will feel super smart after) so I took a few deep breaths and realize there is nothing I can do at this time besides catch my bus and get on with my day #growingmoment. I text my land lady and told her about it, she said she’d help me once she was home in the afternoon.

So off I go.

All during this week I was in another friends (Courtney) site helping with a program in a High school during the morning. The program was created by Courtney to promote healthy decision making in society and for sexual health (which includes a biology lesson on reproductive organs and a fun glitter game to show how quickly STIs can spread-which I was banned from being in charge of the glitter because SUE ME I love glitter and always used too much). It is a really cool and palatable and fun program I was honored to get to be apart of the pilot for! It was good/bad luck that it fell on this week-it was supposed to be next week when I’m on vacation but it just so happens the school changed the dates and she needed help. So off on my white horse I rode to help! Turns out my white horse turned out to be two punk kids dressed as a donkey painted as a horse. Now I know what you’re thinking- “kallie… what the heck are you going on about?” I’ll tell ya. Remember a few blogs ago when I said my Spanish isn’t improving? That hasn’t changed. I’m not being modest, I’m not being self deprecating, I’m being realistic and honest. 90% of my time in David or at the university is in English-which is fine! It’s my job. But it goes mean that I have little *easy* opportunity to speak Spanish. That being said-this wonderful program is ALL in Spanish to HIGH SCHOOLERS. Now we all know how empathetic and kind high schoolers are, so you can imagine how well my broken Spanish in front of them, talking about topics I already don’t know that well, went (remember the part about sexual organs? Try saying spermatazoides and not switch up vejiga (bladder pronounced ve-he-ga) and vagina (pronounced va-he-na). So here I am at the end of every day near tears from the snickers and disrespect from the kiddos WILDLY grateful I’m at a university. While Courtney would never say it-this is where the donkey costume metaphor comes in-i think my “help” was really more of a burden and just an extra body there rather than life changing… at any rate I still had my own job to do after, so off I go after to still run my conversation classes at the university only to get dirty looks from my professors because I had been gone for two weeks (we will get to that). 4 days of this and I’m basically ready to move home…. then my door happened. So there I was sitting watching a strange man drill my door as my land lady and stern neighbor speak Spanish so quickly it makes my head spin while trying to explain for the 296th time that NO I did not lock it on purpose and YES I left out of this door this morning so NO no sé que pasó con la puerta (no I don’t know what happened with the door) wondering what the hell im doing in this country when I realized where I was… I’m in panama in the Peace Corps. I live on my own… I am figuring this situation out on my own… I’m still showing up to Courtney’s site every morning… I’m still going to the University… I am holding 3 eggs and 2 pifa (some exotic fruit..) that my land lady gifted me…why am I being so hard on myself? That’s where I am now-learning how to relax and forgive myself. I wanted to drop the eggs and take a walk and call my dad (hey dad) to get me on a plane home (this is me admitting I KNOW I’m a princess) instead I took a step back and a deep breath and choose to smile instead letting my anxiety get the best of me. My cousin Annie (hey Annie) has told me in a voice message that morning that she thought it was cool that I was still showing up and being vulnerable enough to keep trying to keep speaking in a second language even when high schoolers are high schoolers in any language … so I was like yeah wow I AM cool (that feeling lasted 10 min until I got into the class but I appreciated it none the less). WOW who needs therapy when you have 29 years of reading about it and good friends to fluff your ego? (That was a joke, I highly recommend therapy and deep self reflection… no one ever grew without some harsh realizations about oneself and change.)

Now it is also with noting I’ve been here over 6 months now. I tried writing a blog at the 6 month mark but found myself at a loss for words. What could I say that was of interest? 6 months felt like 16 years and 3 weeks simultaneously… it’s gone fast-as I knew it would.

Work is good. I’m staring to find some semblance of footing in this program I’m trying to help pilot. It mostly consists of me doing a lot of seminars and conversation classes so far. But I’ve got some odds and ends in the works-I’ll do a post on that some other day.

We had a two week training in different parts of the country as a group. It was both so refreshing to see everyone again and so so tiring. My human battery was on negative and I was grateful to say bye (not to everyone) at the end. The training wasn’t wildly useful to me besides to make me feel like I’m not doing enough in my “site” and I should be trying harder to get more Involved in the community aspect. I felt more anxious and unsure about my “site” than I did before. In training they tell us not to compare services or sites and then they had the brilliant idea to make everyone give a small presentation on their sites. Now… I’m not saying it was a bad idea because most of my group liked it-I did not. Before Peace Corps I had wanted to work in some campo site with agriculture getting my hands dirty for 2 years. I wanted to get immersed in the culture… some of you may know where I ended up was very difficult for me to accept. I hate big cities and in all honesty I hate dressing like a professional. But, I am qualified to teach English as a foreign language and I much prefer university students. So after a few months of reflection and getting used to it, I was happy in David. I accepted what my service was going to look like and how my life would be here. Then this activity… I heard about everyone’s cool cultural experiences and how each town is unique and people Get to do cool things like make Johnny Cakes (this coconut bread they make in Bocas del Toro) or how they got to attend a buffalo festival. It put me in a dark place to go back to a city where I’m not learning Spanish and I’m working 40 hours basically as non- salaried staff.

All this negativity to say… I’m on my way back to being ok in David. I HOPE my service becomes what I can envision it with my projects. I have the unique opportunity to actually do something cool and sustainable in the university as I mold young minds about to go mold young minds:that’s not something I thought I’d be able to do in my life.

¿Qué más? I still hate cooking and eat a lot of poor man Thai food (noodles, peanut butter, soy sauce, and veggies) and cereal.

I got my hammock up in my house and spend a lot of time staring at the wall there. I’ve made some amazing friends and met some cool people. I’m looking forward to getting back from vacation in Costa Rica to have a regular schedule with no big meeting, reunions or plans for several months and focusing on my work.

Some positivity from this week-getting the same bus every morning to Courtney’s site the drivers knew me. Twice they saved me (what the pcvs I know call) “hot girl seat” which is up front next to the driver. They PACK these buses with kids and he saved it for me so I could sit and be comfortable (because I’m a lady, blonde, foreign or he knows I’m teaching I’ll never know…) I also made friends with a young Pavo (the guys on the bus taking fare making sure people can all squish and shouting the location for the rest of the world) who is interested in learning English. And the last morning I passed the bus without knowing it and the Pavo chased me down to make sure I got on and wasn’t late. In those moments I can’t be frustrated or ready to go home. Life is hard everywhere but holding onto people’s kindness is what is getting me through.

Shall I close this out with some ramblings or some deep metaphor about how the door is now closed?