Wrapping Up In Los Mortales

March 12^th

Today was my final day in Los Mortales.  Leaving this morning was bitter sweet.  I’m looking forward to finish training and start working. It will definitely be nice to have more independence, and I can’t wait to let loose in Panama City and at the beach with my fellow trainees, but a part of me is going to miss Los Mortales.  I’ve made a lot of good friends here, I’ve become really close to Mama Chomba’s family, and I might even miss waking up to the sound of Mama Chomba yelling at her grandchildren.

Luckily I’ve been able to really relax and enjoy my last few days here.  On Saturday all the trainees in Los Mortales threw a thank you party for our host families.  The party had a rough start.  Felipe (one of the two native Spanish speakers in our group) thanked all the families for coming and invited everyone to come up and grab a plate of the arroz con pollo (rice and chicken, sounds basic but there is actually a lot that goes into doing it right), chicha (fresh squeezed fruit juice mixed with water, sugar, and ice), and salad that his wife and host family had been preparing for the last day and half.  When he finished speaking nobody in the crowd budged.  Then one of the host mothers told him that she was not ready to eat and would not go up there.  Felipe told her that this was her one opportunity to be served, and that she and everyone else would go up there and eat the food they had made.

After we force-fed the group the party moved in a more positive direction.  We all thanked our families for their hospitality, and presented them with a certificate from the Peace Corps and a photo we each took with our families. For comic relief the DJ had an applause sample, which he played after each one of us individually thanked the families. Then he resumed blasting inappropriate reggaeton music.  We finished off the party with a piñata.  Nothing says cultural exchange like a bunch of gringos forcing Panamanian children to beat a Mexican toy with a stick…but the kids seemed to enjoy it.

Unfortunately the party was dry due to Peace Corps rules, but my family made up for it by selling over 100 cases of beer out of our house over the next two days.  It was two wonderful days of drinking and dancing with my family and friends in Los Mortales.

After not drinking for two and a half months my tolerance certainly had gone down. By 2am on Saturday night I was struggling to stay awake, much less have a conversation. But that didn’t stop Abel from talking to me, or making sure there was always a cold beer in my hand.  I finally managed to leave his side by telling him that I needed to go to the bathroom. I immediately went to my bed and passed out.  When I awoke around 10 am the next morning I learned that Abel, Chita, and a group of men from the neighborhood still hadn’t gone to bed.  After breakfast I walked out on the porch to find Abel lying on the railing with his head between his hands.  He correctly accused me of running away from him the night before, and told me that he was very angry with himself.  He had spent $65 on beer the day before (pretty impressive seeing how each beer costs 60 cents), and he had lost $200 by not taking work today. Immediately after Abel finished telling me this he told Mama Chomba to go inside and grab us two beers.

I’m sad to leave my friends here, but my last two days here were two of the best!