pity, love, gringa hotness

Ok, as volunteers, we make very little money. But, I always have money left over. Partly, because I never really travel or stay in hotels. It’s that over integration/site rat aspect of me. The rest is mostly related to the fact that I get pretty much everything given to me. I attribute this to three factors: love, pity, and gringa hotness.

First, gringa hotness. It is a well known fact to any white girl to appear in Panama that Panamanian men love gringas. Any moment I walk down the street, I am greeted with hisses, “I love you”s, and “hellos.” I am pretty sure that most men I run into, whether 12 year old boys, or heads of government agencies, have hit on me. But, this gringa hotness has its advantages. For example, I went to Carnaval with two other volunteers. We got some free beers, and my friend even got her bus fare paid for. I get offered free rides pretty much anywhere I go. There’s nothing that pulls the heart strings of a Panamanian man like a gringa walking on the side of the road. He is obligated to try and offer her a lift. I have even been offered free rides from taxis and busses. This leads into the second.

Pity: That’s right, that poor girl was walking by herself under the sun on the side of the road. She needs a ride. Of course, I’m pretty sure when people in my town look at me, they just see this poor girl, who’s down here living by herself without her family. Most of the questions I get asked are just whether I miss my family and if I’m scared to live alone. Plus, they are pretty sure I can’t cook. So, I get so much food, or rides, or whatever help they can offer me. I know most male volunteers don’t even have to wash their clothes, they are so pitied for being alone, without a mom or a wife.

Finally, love: I was one describing to one of my friends in site my theories of pity and “gringa sexy.” He laughed, but then told me that I was wrong. People like me and want to bless me with things. I am used to going to visit people and shoot the breeze. Usually, I also get offered a little cup of juice or a cookie, or if I hit the jackpot, a whole meal. But, the other day, I answered my front door to find my neighbor from across the street at my door with some soup for me, and even a little extra food for my dog. It was a revelation, she either pitied or loved me so much, that she would bring me food, and I didn’t even have to visit her (though I do regularly, don’t worry).

It’s things like these that I will definitely miss back in the states, where no one even says hi or helps strangers. Is there a town that will take me in and adopt me with all the love I’ve received here in Panama when I go back in a year and a half?

am I becoming too Panamanian?

I scare myself sometimes. I think I’m starting to become what you might call “over integrated.” In the past week, I’ve had at least a couple times where people told me I was Panamanian. Admittedly, they were in relation to painted nails and threatening to fight a girl with a knife over a boy (jokingly, don’t worry). Just yesterday, I arrived in Albrook mall in Panama City. When I first arrived in country, I thought, wow, this is just like a mall in the U.S. This time, my little rural self felt so uncomfortable with the shiny, expensive stores, I tried to get out as soon as possible (but, after buying a Jr. Bacon Cheeseburger, of course). But, here’s another one for example. These are the shoes I brought with me:



I never use them. They sit in my “closet” (aka, the floor under the bar that holds my clothes on hangers at the foot of my bed). Here, on the other hand, are the shoes I use every day:




Oh yeah, they are ugly. In the U.S. I would have mocked them. But, here I find them strangely attractive. Look at those orange jellies. The other day I went to the creek with some girls from my town. I was wearing some Teva Flip-flops. Every single one of them and their mother were wearing these shoes. They looked at my Tevas in disdain. The next time I went to David, I immediately bought myself a pair of those jellies for 1.59. The next day when I walked into my manicure class, they ladies just admired them and smiled at me. Probably thinking, finally we’ve started to help this poor gringa.

But seriously, while other volunteers like to travel and visit other parts of the country, I start to feel uncomfortable being outside of my town, my home, for even an afternoon. It’s gonna be super hard in a year and a half.