The old man who sits outside in his underwear.

***Note: I wish I had a photo for this entry, but alas, I was not bold enough to try and take a snap shot of this man….(yet)….

Every. Single. Day.

Yes, this man is a dedicated sitter. I first was amazed by his presence on my frequent walks to the neighborhood pool. I would walk briskly, anxiously awaiting to splash into our local artificial oasis in order to escape the eternal Panamanian heat. It was then, at precisely 3 p.m., I noticed a large jungle growing in the backyard of a certain neighbor’s house. See, where I live is a nice little pseudo suburbia America all cookie-cutter like, so the tall weeds, various trees, shrubs growing out of control — seemed a little out of place.

In my confused gazing at the chaotic plot of land, I saw him.

A thin 70ish-year-old man sitting indian style on a concrete plank in the midst of his jungle backyard – hands resting on his knees in a meditation position, in only a pair of loose whitey-tighties that were actually not white, but blue. I remembered looking, only to realize he might see me and my awkward staring. So, I quickly darted my eyes away so that he wouldn’t notice that I was checking him or his backyard out.

“How funny! I walk past the one day this guy does this! Man, I’m lucky.” I remembered thinking and laughing to myself. Of course no one sits outside in the heat of Panama every day on a concrete bench, in their jungle backyard. But, oh how I was wrong. As I made my frequent pool trips, he never failed to be there — like a steady companion. Each time with a different tree blooming, a different dog barking at me, and a few taller weeds. But still him, in his blue undies, looking calm and tranquil as the ocean a night.

At first, it just made me laugh, but then I began to wonder, “What does he think about every day at 3 p.m.? What does he escape? What comfort does sitting in your underwear, in your unkempt backyard, in the heat of the day provide? Is he immune to the billion mosquitoes that live in Panama? What does he worry about? What makes him laugh like I do when I see an old man in his underwear? What is his life like?”

It’s interesting how we watch those in contemplation, and then we begin to contemplate ourselves. How we see people who don’t care about the outside watching world, and it inspires us to just be who we are. It’s this interesting wave of contagious thinking and being. I like it. I even thought about taking time to sit outside in my underwear — though my backyard faces a road and a school so I’m not sure if that would be appropriate for small children, nor the general passing public.

Perhaps I’m not inclined for any kind of indecent exposure at the moment (not to say my old friend was indecent, but it was a little scandalous), but it makes me sit and think that this is one of the little reasons I love Panama. These are the details that make me laugh deep in my gut, surprise me daily, and show me that it’s okay to just sit in your underwear and just be.

An XX in an XY world

example of a brigade workshop

It’s pretty fun being an American women in a Latin American country.

Actually, it’s exciting to be a woman in many places in the world today. Women are more visible than ever, taking on more business leadership positions and acting as a strong force in the economic market and political arena.  For example, women currently make up the majority of the U.S. workforce and Costa Rica just elected their first female President, the 5th in Latin America’s history. Things are changing.

What is exciting for me as a young professional and woman in a country normally marked by “machismo,”  is the cultural-exchange/shock and the social affects it has on me and on those around me. For example, there is not a large cultural norm for girls to play sports. Yes, there are girls that do play, but in the various Latin countries I have lived I rarely saw a group of girls in the park playing soccer, basketball, or any other kind of organized sport. Therefore, girls just don’t join in when a group of boys get together and play.

Now, what is fun about my job is that we bring down groups of about 15-30 university students from the U.S. to do a “brigade” — a week of workshops and community development/assessment based on the specific needs of that particular community. Many of those in the group are women that have grown up playing sports their whole lives. Now, you throw them in a Panamanian community where boys have never seen girls play sports as well as they do (or just ever) and BAM, paradigm shift. It’s written all over the shock on their faces.

Not only in a basic example such as sports, but in the actual “brigade” (the project week) we are invited to help run workshops to the leaders of a farm, about business, legal, or environmental issues. Most of the leaders of these communities are men – serving as heads of households and providers. They are often surprised to see that many of our students giving the workshops are women.

One of my colleagues said in our business brainstorm meeting today, “The men in these communities see women leading and leading well, and then think ‘Hey my wife or daughter could do this.’ Or the women see it and think ‘Hey, I can do this.’”  It’s sometimes is simply that they have never seen an example and we come in with 15.  In this sense, our basis as a “development organization” is  breaking all kinds of social stereotypes and broadening the idea of “gender roles” in a community.

Apart from the rural communities, on a day-to-day basis here in Panama City myself and the girls I work with are full-time examples of breaking these cultural expectations. People are shocked that I am and my roommates are 22-25 working/living far away from home supporting ourselves. I received the mostly ghastly looks when myself and 2 other girl friends told people we were going to hike Volcan Baru (an intermediate day hike), without a male guide. And just the other day, a male friend of mine was shocked to see me driving.

These things excite me. We aren’t just preaching that women are just as capable and intelligent as the next man in the community  — we are showing it: in each workshop, in each soccer game, and in each small interaction with those around us.

Lucky Living

kate + me. top of Volcan Baru. the highest point in Panama.

Maybe it’s luck. Maybe it’s God. Last night, my boss called it Karma. Whatever it is, I am thankful for the forces out there that are on my side in my living abroad situations.

Picture this:

1. A rambunctious 19-year-old Jackie goes to study abroad in Madrid, Spain to see the world for the first time and ends up, by potluck, with a host family that inspired her to keep traveling, keep being bold, and with roommates that were the best travel companions around Europe.
2. A wild 21-year-old Jackie goes to live in Argentina for her second study abroad and gets selected to live with a host mom and two host sisters – all incredibly amazing women: multilingual, talented in the arts, intelligent, and incredibly loving.
3. A graduated 22-year-old Jackie goes to Panama City, Panama to begin a new life adventure and job, randomly chooses a room in the house. The other person living there ends up being the one person in the house she connect with the most deeply, who challenges her, who makes her laugh, who helps her think, and who understands all the crazy emotions that come with assimilating and living in another part of the world.

How have I, in a seemingly random fashion, been chosen or chose to be in the best living situation I could have at each specific time in my life? Such wonderfulness is not normal.

I don’t know, but I am so thankful.  And here in Panama, Kate has challenged me, listened to my thousand ranks about life and love, and been travel buddy for some of the most fun journeys around Panama.  She’s the one who will stay up with me until 2 a.m. talking about development, new ideas to better our work, and the meaning in all of it. Who will take a crazy trip. Who laughs with (and sometimes just at) me. Who will send me inspiring articles and books to read. And who, most of all, is interested in everyone and thus, seemingly everyone becomes interested in her. Funny how that works.

And despite all the ups and downs, I know when I, with my ridiculousness, lay on the top bunk and stare at the ceiling with thoughts swirling in my head – I could call down to her sleeping or awake on the bottom bunk and she would listen to whatever I had to say. She is a steady and wonderful constant as a friend, partner in crime, co-worker, and home away from home.

Dia por Dia || Day by Day

I have two really wonderful friends who have inspired and loved on me through a large part of my life. One is Erin, a person of indescribable depth and passion. She has known me since I was a wild, wild high school sophomore, has dreamed a thousand dreams with me, and has this magical way of making any space the most comfortable, peaceful place to be.

The other is Monike, a fiery college roommate and friend who has an incomparable sense of humor, artistic touch, and a way of making tea/chocolate cookies that are to. die. for. and have cured my 4 a.m. break-downs and freak-outs.

They both have taken/are taking on a blog project that is a way to not only be accountable to themselves, but to record the daily beauties of life and share them with others. I have decided to join them. There seems to be too much over thinking and life-stealing thought patterns that ruin really wonderful moments.

I was recently came across a book titled Cold Tangerines by Shauna Niequist and was able to read her chapter entitled “Waiting” for free via her website. It spoke directly to these recent thoughts and feelings – hitting on something very prevalent in my life (it’s relevance is mostly thanks to the friend who knew me and my heart well enough to push it my way). In this section she writes:

But this is what I’m finding, in glimpses and flashes: this is it. This is it, in the best possible way. That thing I’m waiting for, that adventure, that movie-score-worthy experience unfolding gracefully. This is it. Normal, daily life ticking by on our streets and sidewalks, in our houses and apartments, in our beds and at our dinner tables, in our dreams and prayers and fights and secrets. This pedestrian life is the most precious thing any of us will ever experience.

This is it. That phrase plays and replays over and over in my head and she continues:

I don’t want to wait anymore. I choose to believe  that there is nothing more sacred or profound than this day. I choose to believe that there may be a thousand big moments embedded in this day, waiting to be discovered  like tiny shards of gold. The big moments are the daily, tiny  moments of courage and forgiveness and hope that we grab on to and extend to one another. That’s the drama of  life, swirling all around us, and generally I don’t even see it, because I’m too busy waiting to become whatever it is I think I am about to become. The big moments are in every hour, every conversation, every meal, every meeting.

I don’t want to wait anymore, either. And while I love movement, change, dreaming, and doing, I don’t want to be a person who is too busy to enjoy it. Who is too busy to sit down and drink a glass of wine or hot chamomile tea and watch the sunset. Who is too busy to call an old friend or lay in the hammock and just be. Or too busy sit down and write a short paragraph of something that made them laugh, challenged them, or moved them.

So, here I am. I’ll be recording these fun details of life with more frequency and hopefully with photos…taking life how it should be, day by day.

Semesters and Seasons

It’s confusing enough being in your early 20s, recently graduated with your first or second job, figuring out the ways of the world and what adventures and struggles come with it. Then, realizing you have no more spring break, no summer, barely any paid vacation (if any), and there this sense of indefiniteness that overwhelms. What I am coming to realize, and adjust to, is that a very comforting thing about college and the U.S. was that there were semesters and seasons.

There was a beginning. There was an end.

You had seasons of life with certain classes, people, and events. If there was something you liked, you tried to stick with it another semester. If there was something you didn’t, for example, Calculus 4 at 8 a.m. every day, you could look forward to it’s eventual end. And for all ADD people like me, whose interests are vast and scattered, you could always look forward to the new intellectual endeavors/challenges, the new books to read, and the new community in which to share them.

If the semesters weren’t enough change for you, there were the seasons. The flowers would start blooming and earth’s axis would tilt so the sun would be a little bit stronger about halfway through Spring semester.  The leaves would start changing and jackets would be needed about halfway through Fall semester. Leaves, flowers, warmth, sky, and wardrobe were enough to bring some excitement for those desperately needing a change of some kind.

My current situation is this: I have neither.

Panama does not have seasons and my job does not have semesters. Sure, nominally we have two seasons: winter and summer also known as rainy and dry season, respectively. “Winter” is happening right now, but believe me, it’s just as hot — sometimes even more so when the rain comes and turns the hot earth into a hot-moist Earth (aka sauna). I’ll never need to stop putting on sunscreen, taking cold showers, wearing summer dresses, and bringing an umbrella to shield from both rain and sun.

You can get lost in the motion, the sameness, the repetition.

And then one day, you decide to stop and look around and realize you’ve been doing the same thing for the past 6 months, year, two years – almost mindlessly. There was no shift, no large break, no big indication that something was changing and that there was a reason to rethink life, if even it meant putting on the Converse instead of the Chacos. Semesters used to help us stop and re-think. Seasons helped us appreciate the changes. But without one or the other, where does that put me?

To say the least, I’m feeling a little lost right now. My lost-ness has also been awfully manifested in my latest driving fiascoes. The last few times I have driven around the city, I have gotten frustratingly and deeply turned around, misled, confused….lost –  in traffic, in not so great parts of town, and on highways with tolls and no U-Turns for miles that goes something like this:

“Tumba Muerto? Avenida Central? Wait what?? Corredor Sur?!!? Retorno. Retorno. Rethink. Relax. Breathe….Okay you have a 4×4 you can drive through that massive lake on the road….CRAP UNA VIA, turn turn turn….Ask the guy with the banana chips.  Senorrr! Tengo un dollar. Buy a few bags of banana chips. Down the chips. Mmmm comfort food. Mabye I should buy some pineapple that guy has got? NO focus, Jackie. Where are you? What time is it? Crap. I’m late. Crap. I have to pay that toll. No, I will not look over at you truck that is honking at me to get my attention. Latinos….seriously stop honking….OK I give up going home.”

Overwhelming? Welcome to my brain. Students have arrived in Panama for study abroad summer session and it took me completely by surprise…”What I thought?! Summer sessions already?!” And then, the Facebook pictures of everyone graduating…”What?! I did this LAST YEAR?!” I am old.

And the truth is, I truly do love what I do here in Panama, but it helps to just have that shift and reflection, even more to have the people to hope and reflect with you. Perhaps I lack both. I cannot blame my circumstances for my lack of self-discipline, and I cannot blame Panama for being hot all the time. But, feel like I have no sense of time — nothing “feels” like it used to.  So, what do we do with this incessant movement without a chance to step away from the lost-ness and step towards taking time to re-think, re-do, re-live? It’s always easy to hope and fear and be excited for the unknown to come, much scarier to hope and fear and be excited for the same thing that happens every day.

esta noche.

i am: content, anxious, sleepy. repeat.

thoughts for the night: be more self-disciplined. take action. throw yourself into all you are doing.

a window seat view.

It is a gigantesque feeling — staring at New York City from above, challenging the skyscrapers and their bold height, watching over the city from a peaceful 15F window seat, with a glass of wine in hand, aloof, yet knowing the chaos that exists below.  I could tip the Empire State Building over with a push of the finger; I could cause a violent windstorm with one breath. As we fly past, that the bright light show below has disappeared, and I change my gaze from downward to upwards only to be overcome with the immensity that exists above. I am no longer the giant I was.

Touching the stars seems both realistic and impossible. They hang above me, teasing me with their beauty and depth. The other planes in the distance that flicker like fireflies are meager in comparison to the daunting balls of gas that burn right above my head. As Emerson writes, “But if a man would be alone, let him look at the stars.” I am in a good place.

I turn around to look at the dormant passengers on the plane. I feel like a little bit of a creeper when I think how cute some of the old people look with their mouths agape, and how that middle-aged woman in snuggled in her seat, deep within a dream.

My life has been a constant observation of new stories and lives around me. Everything has been new, an adjustment, and I take note with more precision with more detail. I see more of the extraordinary in the ordinary and I am taken aback at people’s openness that happens if only one is willing to listen.

A Swiss girl today told me all about her struggles with depression in the long customs line, and an adorable retired couple told me about their travel adventures as well as thoughts on life and balance. I’ve overheard conversations about Easter, “The only Easter thing we will do is eat chocolate,” one guy said to his college girlfriend, who was going to meet his family for the first time. I’ve heard about five different languages being spoken and seen the universal language of love in the form of hugs, kissing, tears, and waving goodbye in each airport.

And this isn’t just in the airport. I have heard numerous stories from worldwide travelers and from farmers who have never left their little piece of land. In these past three months I have been challenged in extraordinary ways. The highs are seemingly more joyful, and the lows are seemingly more painful. Just last week felt like such a sigh of relief. I remembered thinking “Wow, I have friends here,” an indication of relationships that I have semi-formed in the last few months are feeling like normal every-day occurrences. I get text messages; I have people to watch the Baylor basketball games with.

Panama is starting to feel like home.

It’s odd, but it seems so natural. I am making a life with the work I do, working for two non-profits, learning about the intricacies of trying to help others, I am doing what I want to do, speaking Spanish, going on beautiful trail runs in the jungle, solidifying my passions, and yet still feeling like I want to do everything. Despite some of the unknowing, I am deeply satisfied.

Now as I approach “home,” the place where I was born, with the familiarity of it all, I wonder if it will feel recognizable. Already, I am missing speaking Spanish. I am missing the intense conversations about development, about the world, surrounded by an international crowd. I am missing the extreme sun, the incredibly fresh fruit, the guayacans, and the squawking birds of my backyard. Oh, details.

The interactions we have with people, no matter how small or how large…whether in a plane or in a sustainable development project can truly, truly have a positive impact. Some of the smallest interactions can produce the largest results.  Sometimes, just doing what you will say you will do gives someone back their faith in humanity. I have learned that yes, advocacy groups and non-profits help, but what can really impact is your everyday interactions with people. How you treat them, how you listen, how you laugh with them, and how you relate.

bienvenida to the land of abundant fish, trees, and butterflies.

The word “Panama” has controversy surrounding its origins, but most believe it was a native word that means “abundant fish, trees, and butterflies.” Although, some may have a hard time seeing all the fish, trees, and butterflies….at first. Arriving into Tocumen International Airport, you fly over the coast and south entrance of the Panama Canal.  Development in the form of skyscrapers has permeated even to the very very very edge of the coast — buildings looking as though if there were a strong storm the sand would slide right under them and they would slip into the Pacific Ocean. The main city is full of banks – Colombian banks, American banks, Swiss banks, and other Latin American banks. The city is crowded with traffic, and it is generally known that most of the people who live near these big buildings are foreigners and their investor friends.

It’s really interesting how many older guys, looking like American retirees (or probably are retirees), you will see in the supermarket, or on a motorcycle, or walking around the city. I have even heard a Panamanian explain to me that “no Panamanians live there [in the city], that is like…Miami Beach” (which is a bit ironic because most of Miami consists of foreigners, but we get the picture). But otherwise, I live with my co-workers and now friends, a bit out of the city. Near a place with a lot more trees and beauty and my favorite… running paths. There are fewer cars and chaos, and a lot more peace to nap in the hammock in the late afternoons. Though, we do have the Panama Canal right in our backyard.

I am not averse to change, to new places and new people. I enjoy the challenge and the uncertainty that comes with it, but it is still hard to believe I’m going to be spending most, if not all, of 2010 here. I have done so much in just these first two weeks: helped with a brigade, been all around downtown, met the handful of people I’ll be working with, helped brainstorm ideas about the development work we are doing, been to the beach, been to a peace rally/concert, picked up some panamanian-isms, and adventured into the jungle. Yet, I feel like there is still so much I need to do.

The people I live with are passionate, creative, and smart (not to mention just fun to be around). They are the directors of the environmental, architecture, community, and business brigades. Just after two weeks I feel like I have known them for a lot longer. We are all in a place of uncertainty, being 22-26 age range, of knowing what careers we will choose next, what places life will take us, but we know that we are to make the most of here and now in Panama.

I am blessed to be here. For a warm-weather person who loves to dance – I am in heaven. Every day is full of sun and with a cool breeze. The sunsets each evening spill a million colors over the jungle-y hills and seem to enter right into your room. With every reggaeton, salsa, or meringue song that you here in a bar, grocery store, outside as the cars pass by, or in your house, you see hips and arms start swaying and moving. It’s definitely characterizes this very chill, latin/carribean, lifestyle that is full of life but also so very relaxed.

I am deeply trying to connect here and pay attention to the small details of life. It’s not all sangria and smiles – I do get anxious and I am challenged daily to step outside my comfort zone, or deal with knowing I need to take more steps of boldness. I’m still messily working on it and through it.

Although, who cannot be happy in the place where the pedestrian signs have butts?

the beauty of the difficult.

I thought I wanted the easy way.

The yellow brick road of happiness, frolicking, and never ending supply of truffles and ice cream. But let’s be honest, that story has zero excitement and the people in it seek comfort and safety in a way that just makes us question their sanity. Pain and suffering soften us, mold us, and push us. To be people we weren’t sure we could be and to do things we didn’t think, or didn’t even want, to do.

Let’s just say, the year of 2009 was full of those things I didn’t want to do. A roller coaster without a seatbelt. It was one of my more rocky years of life. It brought some amazing moments of triumph: finishing my thesis, graduating from college, running the dallas marathon, landing a sweet internship, but it also threw at me some of the most heartbreaking, difficult, aggravating, and just depressing situations that I just KNEW I wanted to forget about, let go of, leave behind and never revisit. Even during NYE, I was ready to repress and progress into the new.

I discounted so much of the good, just to numb to the bad.

My idea of  2010 was the epitome of a restart. I dreamed of it being full of daisies and roses, central american beaches with my skin always sun-kissed, life being easy, and moreover me being able to fulfill some of my dreams with just passionate gusto and smiling positivity. And then, I woke up, a few days after the new year, with strep throat with a cold on top and that Van de Graff hair, pale washed-out look, and endless amounts of mucus. Not the daisies and roses I had planned on. The physical ailments shook me. “Why was this happening?! This was not the fantastic start I planned..” But the shock waves of frustration with my aching body, in a way, woke me up to what I really wanted for 2010.

Sometimes things work out easy for people. But, mostly when it comes to the things we truly desire, we have to put up a fight. What I have realized in these past few days, is that the last thing I want is this comfortable easy life for 2010.  We need challenge, we need difficulty. It is in facing these things in life that we shape our character.  I read an excerpt from Donald Miller’s book, “A Million Miles in a Thousand Years” and he speaks of this very thing.

He writes,

“A story involves a person that wants something and is willing to overcome conflict to get it. Characters don’t want to change. That’s why so many new-years resolutions fail. We write down that we want to lose twenty pounds and end up gaining ten. It happens every year. What we are overlooking is a principle that every good screenwriter knows: Characters don’t change without being forced to change. An inciting incident is the event in a movie that causes upheaval in the protagonist life. The protagonist, then, naturally seeks to return to stability. And in order to do that, he HAS to solve his new problem. In Taken, Liam Neeson’s daughter is kidnapped and he MUST find her. In The Grapes of Wrath, the dust bowl forces the Joad family west. Characters must be pressured to change, or they won’t.”

And after just reading, “Three Cups of Tea” a story about Greg Mortenson an American who builds schools for girls and children in northern Pakistan and Afghanistan, his journey was nothing but difficult. He faced incredible obstacles: being detained, not being to always access regions he wanted to help, the taliban, difficult religious leaders, loss of money, lack of family – for this passion to give education. Nothing of such depth and value comes easy, and for fighting he has changed the world.

Nothing has defined my character more than the hardships of my life. And to be honest, in relation to the world, I have not really had a “hard life.” But there has been divorce, hate, and some awful situations that I have encountered in which I was scared, lost, and tired. I was forced to change. This year, I was hoping for a life that was easy, with less pain and less difficulty. But after these first few weeks, I know I don’t want that at all.

It’s kind of crazy to ask for this. To ask for the uncomfortable. I still want “health and healing and holding close” as I mentioned in my previous post, because those are the things we ask when we ache, when we are lonely, when we are sick, and when we use love and community to get through things. But moreover, I don’t want to be a stagnant character. To let this year pass and come to the next NYE and think, “Okay, that was easy, but what did I really do?” I remember 2009 with much more positivity and excitement now. I stood up to the provosts of Baylor University! I ran a marathon! I have a college degree! I lived at home for 8 months! I had had my heart crushed and lived!

I use more exclamation points now.

Next post, I’ll hopefully have some story ideas I’d like to embark on for this year. I think moving to Panama in 4 days is a good start.

I hold on to this as a motivation for 2010 instead of my previous idea of wanting an easy year. Donald Miller writes, “Living a good story is a lot of fun, but it can also be difficult and boring. But when it’s done, when you’ve renewed your vows or climbed a mountain, you’ll look back on one of the most rich and fulfilling years of your life, filled with scenes of difficulty and conflict, of beauty and sacrifice.”

what i want for 2010.

“I want health and healing and holding close. I want similar souls. I want passionate yeses. I want to hear jazz with my eyes closed, and dig my toes into the sand dancing. I want to climb to the summit and yell and sleep under the stars. I want to laugh my head off and play marbles and sleep in and eat croissants in bed with butter and marmalade and spill coffee and wear lace and trip holding your hand because I am listening so closely.”  -swh

I had a pretty good time 2009, but I am so ready move on. Let go. Start again.