24/7

Have you ever spent 24 hours a day with someone, 7 days a week – only taking breaks to take a shower and use the bathroom. Welcome to my life in Panama.

Since arriving here a little over a week a go, Eric and I have spent every waking (and sleeping) moment together. This is not good. I love him…very much, but I am not used to that much together time.

Allow me to me contextualize the situation. Before leaving my job to prepare for our Panama trip, I was working 12-16 hours a day. In fact, I worked so much that I actually spent a night in my office because I thought that I could be even more productive. An average day this summer looked like this:

5:30am – Wake up while Eric is still sleeping and quietly get ready and leave the house.
6:30am – Take the train into the city.
7:30am – Arrive at work, take a few deep breathes and prepare for the horror whose name is Summer Camp. (Don’t let the jolly “Youth & Family Director” title fool you – it was brutal.)
8:00am - 3:00pm – Run back and forth from my office to the campsite (literally) and attempt to manage 40 staff and over 400 kids.
3:00pm – Remember to eat.
4:00pm – Actually eat.
5:00pm – Answer parents’ endless questions and concerns about their child’s day.
6:00pm – Sit down at my desk and do some work. (Oh, did you think that supervising the camp was my only job…hahaha…oh no). Read emails, create staff and participant schedules, meet with staff, confirm trips, look at the budget, aid with Fall planning prep, etc.
8:00pm – Call Eric (he worked from home) and tell him that I will be leaving at 9:00pm.
11:00pm – Actually leave.
12:00am – Get home, eat whatever is left on the stove or in the fridge and watch TV – oh yea, and talk to Eric.
1:00am – Go to sleep and prepare to start the machine again the next day.

That was my life. Now I think that you and I can both agree that that was not healthy – for me or for my relationship. I needed a change. But now imagine going from 2 to 24 hours a day with someone. I once oversaw hundreds a people (how’s that for a resume builder?) and now I have to negotiate how much milk I can use for my cereal so that he can have enough for his coffee. It definitely requires an adjustment.

But of course, no story can exist without the moral at the end – at least not one of mine. During these 24/7 days together, I have learned a lot:

1. As much as I am complaining about not having time alone – I apparently turn into the “frightened girl” from every bad horror movie when left alone for too long. (Quick context: The other night, Eric went to a bar to film some locals watching Carlos Ruiz in the World Series…he is Panamanian. I was fine at the apartment for a few hours, watching TV and surfing the internet (that is really all there is to do). As I said, I was fine, until I started hearing rocks against the window pain. Someone was throwing rocks at our second floor balcony window! Every time I got near the window, the rock-throwing would increase. I turned off all of the lights, grabbed a knife from the kitchen, frantically looked for the number to the Embassy and made my sister keep me on iChat so that she could be a witness to anything that happened. After about twenty minutes of freaking out and wondering when Eric would get home, my sister very wisely pointed out that maybe it WAS Eric. I went to the balcony, and sure enough, Eric was sitting on the curb. I had forgotten that I had the keys to the apartment and Eric could not get into the lobby – and of course there are no buzzers. Ahhhhh, Jackie.)
   
   
2. Eric is great. I love him! While we get on each other’s nerves, we are main source of entertainment and conversation for each other. And more than that, we are each other’s support system.
   
   
3. I am the yin to Eric’s yang. When he is down, I am up (and vise versa). Being so close all of the time, we have learned to balance each other out.
   
   
4. And finally, I learned that the one thing that is harder than being with someone else for 24 hours a day…is being by yourself. Like I said, I am used to doing-doing-doing…now I have to learn to just be. I have to learn how to fill my day with things that engage me (I should start by getting off of the internet and turning off the TV). I have to learn how to feel comfortable with my minor daily accomplishments and not compare my new life with my old life (it is hard to feel accomplished with little things like learning a new word in Spanish, compared with running 10 programs a day at the Y.) I have to learn to let go and let God…hahaha. No, really. I have to let things go and just go with the flow and have fun.

So many lessons and I have only been here for a few days. Oh Panama, I am sure you have much more in store for me.

Heels or Flats?

One of the first things that I noticed when I got here was that women dress up all of the time. In fact, I noticed it before I even got here…at the airport, waiting for the plane, I saw women (old and young) dressed in tight pants, low shirts and the highest heels they could get their hands on. While I was wondering what shoes I could easily slip in and out of for the metal detector – they were wondering what color eye shadow would best bring out the blue-green in their halter-top.

Part of me admires it – it makes me think of the 1930’s and 40’s when men wore top hats and long coats and women wore white gloves and red lipstick. The idea of showing the best of you at all times. But why is Panamanian’s best, vacuumed tight jeans and stilettos? It looks to be more sexed up then dressed up. But perhaps the two are interchangeable here. Maybe to be dressed up and beautiful and confident – is to show off and extenuate the parts of what make you a woman. (And please take note, that I am only talking about women…while I have seen the occasional well dressed man on his way to work, the amount of effort it seems that men put into their look pales in comparison to the hours-long process it must take these women to put themselves together.)

I know that this view sounds very feminist (though one might argue that a woman should dress however she wants to – so my criticism is actually anti-feminist). Then maybe my view is more American; while we certainly spend billions on cloths and make-up, I feel like comfort is much more of a factor than style (just ask any of the “before” folks from “What Not To Wear”). Or maybe it is just a non-Hispanic view (even though I am Puerto Rican) – it might just be a Hispanic thing, because I know that in PR many women dress the same way.

What bothers me about it is not that they dress like that – I don’t care how people dress really, I may find things funny or odd, but que sera, sera. What bothers me is that living here, I feel like I have to dress like that too, just to fit in. I know that Eric certainly expects that of me – though he has recently said he would be happy with just the heels and the colorful eye-shadow. I like my flip-flops and boy shorts. But I must admit that I have worn my hoop earrings and lip-gloss much more since I arrived.

I think that what is more fascinating for me is that I have been forced to think about what is easy and comfortable vs. what is demanding and interesting in all aspects of my new Panamanian life. For example, we are currently staying in El Cangrejo, which can easily been called “little North America”. The number of people from Canada and the states is shocking. And what is even more intriguing is the number of these folks who don’t know Spanish – and don’t seem to want to learn. The guy who is renting us the apartment is American and has lived here for - years – he even has a Panamanian girlfriend – but his Spanish is awful! And there are tons of North American owned restaurants and shops – enough that the folks in the neighborhood can spend their whole time in Panama without speaking more than five Spanish words. It’s easy vs. interesting. I know that I have been tempted to limit myself to those restaurants because ordering in English is much easier than risking speaking Spanish with a bad accent (and yes, if you didn’t know – I am Puerto Rican and I don’t speak Spanish…thanks mom and dad!). I know in the long run, challenging myself will be much more fruitful than sticking to what I remember from Spanish 101.

Another example, I don’t like talking to people…now let me take a second to pause and contextualize this for you – I have a master’s degree in Social Work with a specialty in Community Organization and Case Work, both of which require talking to people as sort of a prerequisite. At my last job, I supervised up to thirty people. I have four email accounts (which I check every 40 minutes). And yes, I don’t like talking to people. Don’t ask me, I don’t get it either. I don’t mind having close friends, but I hate crowds, I hate talking to people I don’t know and I especially hate making small talk. (With all of that said, I am actually pretty good at it.) But here I am, in the land of friendly talkers. In New York, a stranger saying good morning might be met with a rolling of the eyes. But here, “Buenos Dias” commands of chorus of “Buenos” from all directions. Practically everyone in Panama is super friendly. They are helpful and nice – and thrilled to share a meal with you – and of course a conversation. So, I can do the comfortable thing and smile, nod and move on – or I can actually talk to people. Much more work, but I am sure much more rewarding.

So in the heels vs. flats battle, I am going to try a happy medium. I may try to fit some heels into my shoe rotation – and may use those heels to step outside of my comfort zone every once is a while…but no colorful eye shadow…I have to draw the line somewhere.

What’s this all about?

Who Am I?
My name is Jackie and I currently live with my husband in Panama City, Panama. Apart from that…I am many things…but writing about myself is my least favorite subject.

Where Am I?
I am in Panama City, Panama, my friends. It’s a land far, far away; where it is hot all of the time – at all times of the day. Where a manicure is $3 but a one bedroom is can cost $3,000 a month. A place where there are seemingly more cars than people…and more construction than cars. A magical place where everyone is always dressed up (especially the women!) but there doesn’t seem to be anywhere to go.

How did I get here? Good question. Eric (my husband) received a grant to create a sports documentary here. I’m just a long for the ride. Of course I have aspirations and expectations of my own – but for now, I am doing a very uncharacteristic thing and just going with the flow.

I am undecided about Panama. I love the potential of Panama – or that is, the potential of what I can accomplish while in Panama - improve my Spanish, learn to cook, start painting again, loose 20 pounds (don’t ask me how that got thrown in there), develop more spiritually, make new friends, etc. I love the idea of Panama – opening my eyes and my mind to a new culture and a new way of living, exchanging ideas with different people, eating home-grown food, taking a weekend trip to Costa Rica, going to the discoteca with my new friends Juan and Ana (that is a joke for anyone who ever took Spanish 101 in HS), and adding some “When I lived in Panama” stories to my repertoire. So I love the potential and I love the idea – but to be honest, I have yet to form an opinion about the place itself. I am sure that my blogs will be a breeding ground for both glowing praises and huge disappointments. But, I am excited to see what happens…aren’t you?

Why Am I Blogging?
Boredom.

I don’t know…this has been a very interesting year and I expect that my adventures in Panama will lead to even more interesting tales. I am in a new country, with a new language and I spend almost 24 hours a day with Eric – that sounds like a recipe for hilarity if you ask me.

Plus, I am far from home, with a lot of free time on my hands – so I thought that blogging could give me something to do (a way of recording my journey) and could help me stay connected to my friends and family.

If you like what I write – write something back. If not…well, write something anyway so that I know that people are reading it.