Reflections on a Year

During the first months of service I resigned myself to the notion that every day passed meant one day less than two years. The end of June marked a year of service; now my solace comes from the fact that less than a year remains. Here are a few changes in my life that have developed and truths that have become apparent over this past year:
1)The river is my new shower, as well as washing machine. My biceps are slightly more toned from all the effort.
2) Washing clothes is for the hell of it. Two seconds into wear some dog will jump on me or a kid will slap me with a dirty hand and run away delighted. Back to the river they go.
3)I will always look/feel disgusting. Where there is white skin and mud, there will be general filthiness. Panamanians are hard on me, but they fail to realize dark skin better camouflages dirt, leaving the illusion of cleanliness. I am not adapted for this area!
4)I paint my toenails, not because it is fashionable or appropriately feminine, but because it hides dirt (note this entry´s emphasis on cleanliness). I never painted nails before Panama, now my nude nails disgust me.
5)Food is only as fast as I can prepare it. In college I relied heavily on fast or pre-prepared foods. Here everything has to be done by scratch with a saucepan and limited ingredients. Sardines are about as exotic as it gets in the tienda.
6) Though I´m not impoverished, this is the first time in my life where a pound of seedless grapes will cost me a third of my daily salary (hence no grapes). My suppressed American materialist desires surfaced in a Panama City mall where I was overcome with a desire to buy something new, shiny, and pretty (and, of course, totally unnecessary). But when even Payless shoes are too luxurious, one has to settle for cheap costume jewelry they´ll never wear.
7) Time only exists in my mind. I check the clock to track my daily progress whereas neighbors operate by a morning-afternoon-night system of measurement dictated by the sun. Start times do not exist and punctuality is rumored to exist in ¨the city.¨ Because it doesn´t exist, one´s time is not valued by others.
8)I´m socially awkward. I´ve been rudely disconnected from my age here- my friends are either twice or half my own age. I´m not sure which is worse, acting prudish and disinterested in youthful exploits, or trying to be a ¨cool¨and apathetic youth (something I never cared to master).
9)The humidity claims all. I´m still unaccustomed to this permanent sauna called Central America and no one lets me forget. I arrive after walking briskly to someone´s house to have them announce that I am ¨sweating a lot.¨ Everything is claimed by mold; clothes, bedding, shoes, even books. My Webster´s dictionary now houses more mold spores than English words.
10)I´m here for no other reason than to amuse. When projects fall through because of communal apathy, the only interest people have in my presence derives from my antics. My malapropisms, misunderstandings, dog drama, etc, are mildly entertaining when nothing else is going on in the campo.