Going my way? (Adventure to Tigre Part II)

Woke up surprisingly unsurprised as to my location. There was a brief, confusing conversation regarding whether or not I had a towel, but then I was off to shower as best as I could without soap and with a borrowed towel (Douglas Adams would be disappointed). There is a shower-head of no use, (Similar to the toilet and sink), but there are barrels of fresh water. Still, I find myself longing for my open-air shower and toilet above the ocean in Nargana. I freshen up as best I can and am back in my clothes from the day before. Not ideal, but no one cares.

Coffee and a small roll later, we are back to open Erasmos’ office. What someone might consider a waste of time, I consider invaluable time spent talking to Erasmos about our thoughts, experiences, culture and more. It is sad that I have had to learn how to sit and to pass time with another person without thinking there are more important things to be doing. Periodically we walk around to complete small tasks or seemingly just to chat with friends or chill at home for a spell, where the women have their hands full dealing with the barrels full of unhappy crabs.

The boat I was told would take me back to Nargana was, for reasons I am unsure of, unable to leave at 11:00am. So now we wait until 1:00 for the delegates coming back from the other island. I am enjoying my time in Tigre, but I am growing increasingly concerned as I have just used up the end of my “female supplies” and I was really not looking forward to that conversation in Spanish. For the guys I’ve just grossed out by this last part, deal with it.

We head back out to the beach office while the ladies cook up some crab for lunch. I eat my first full crab with Yam soup and I must say I enjoyed it. - Earlier I asked if I could give something in return for the hospitality. Erasmos said it was up to me, but if I would like I could pay $2 for rice. I gave him $4, not wanting to insult, but deeply gracious for the hospitality he and his family were showing me. - I feign a full stomach so I don’t have to figure out how in the hell to eat the actually body of the crab. It looked like a pretty violent and difficult task when I watched Erasmos.

At 1:00 we walk to the dock in hopes of flagging down my boat from the day before. At first I thought the boats usually stopped at Tigre, then I came to understand that you have to wave them down and hope they stop…I think. We come to the dock and there is a banana boat unloading its goods for the women of the village to pick up. Erasmos talks to them and it turns out they are going to Nargana and would have no problem taking me along. But first they were stopped there for lunch. Erasmos and I express our gratitude for the visit and hopes of a return and then he leaves for his office leaving me to wait with the boat.

Trading Boats Docked in Nargana

I sit in the shade of the boat on the dock and speak with a Panamanian guy who was traveling and working on the boat to get back to his city near Colon. One of Erasmos’ sister-in-laws comes to pick up her load of bananas, but rips her bag trying to carry what surely must be half if not more of her weight. Since I was waiting for who knows how long, I started to pick up the fallen bananas to help her take them back home. Along the way people call out to her and she responds with a big grin on her face. Everyone is smiling and laughing at the sight of us and I hear her say “mergi” several times, which means “American” from the United States, so I am lead to understand that she is commenting in some fashion on having her own U.S. delivery service.

I drop the bananas off at the home, where I am met with more laughter and gracious thanks. “Gracias” they tell me, and I return their thanks in Guna, “nuedi,” once more before heading back to the dock. There I sit another half hour, maybe an hour talking with the workers on the banana boat. I realize how strange and maybe even dangerous this might sound to people back home (this story may need to be edited for my Mimi). Just a few weeks ago I was telling another Fulbrighter that I couldn’t believe that she had traveled by herself in South America. Now I was essentially doing the same thing. But Samantha told me something that I have found to be so true: you are never really alone. If you are doing it right, you are meeting people and forming relationships and someone is always there to get you to the next handoff. You just have to be open and to trust your instincts and intelligence. This banana boat would be my next handoff. At the beginning of the trip I would have never thought of doing this, but now it was merely the easiest way to get to where I needed to be next. It is amazing the level of fear I have had to get over just to trust my fellow human being.

NOTE: I am not suggesting to readers to travel on random ships of strangers. All of this is relative to my personal experience in Guna Yala. There are certainly times and places where this would be a very bad idea.

All the romantic banana boat talk aside, the boat bringing back delegates shows up before the crew had begun their lunch, so I bid them thanks and farewell but opted for what was now the quickest and easiest way to Nargana.

The delegates welcomed me back on with warm smiles. Surprised I had stayed the night, but not bothered in the least to have me on-board. I couldn’t help but smile as we rode “home.” For them I had done nothing special, but for me it was a full 24 hour lesson in patience, trust and openness. And it only cost me $4 plus $6 for gas.

First order of business now that I was back home, (which is really what the Sailar’s house has become for me in less than 2 weeks), I needed a bath. Another surprise was that I really felt clean and refreshed after my bucket shower. My family in Uganda would be proud that I’ve gotten my technique down. The short hair, of course, makes all the difference in the world!

I suppose there’s some sort of symbolism in that: the cleansing of myself through a manner once foreign and thought unclean. The embracing of this new method/life made easier through the leaving behind of my old notions of what is beauty/better.