Every night at 7:15 the sun sets and the land is ruled by two types of creatures of the night. Much of Panama, including the community of Los Positos, slams their doors against the mosquitos that come buzzing in droves, and as their abodes are secured against the first creature, the gente turn to stare into the big, ugly eye of the other. Slowly relaxing into well-worn cushions and plastic chairs, they stare, and it blinks back, not menacingly, but seductively. The creature and the people gaze into each other´s eyes until they are as one.

This interaction frightens me more than the risk of malaria and dengue fever, more than the huge waves that can sweep you a mile offshore, and much more than the tormentas that sometimes sound as if they will pound right through the zinc roof at night. It makes me shudder to the depths of my soul to watch this spectacle, that occurs even in the poorest of houses.

The televsion commercials are loud and cheesy, advertising for things that people in the campo don´t need and can´t possibly afford. But yet I watch as people buy them. First program of the night: the extremely sensationalized news shows the images of every dead body the camera could get its eye on that day. At 7, the novelas begin. Amplified soap operas show Latin Americans living as if they were in Beverly Hills or the OC. Myself not understanding the Spanish makes the terrible acting all the more comical, but doesn´t overshadow the psychological devastation.

As my new family watches the Spanish-dubbed movies that never made it in America, I wonder to myself what they did before the TV arrived. Due to the literacy level, very few people enjoy reading for pleasure, so I imagine it was more of the banter about the weather that goes on all day long. I don´t mourn as much for my host abuelitos, who are well into their 80s and would probably be in bed if not in front of the TV, but for the young Panamanians. They see the same wasteful lifestyles as the kids in America are enticed into desiring, but have even less of a chance of actualizing these emtpy wants.

My host mother in my training community confided in me her worry that her three boys would never further their education and get good jobs because they preferred to sit in front of the TV over studying. In Panama, the average education level is 6th grade, because in some places it is too difficult or expensive to transport children to high school. Although it is a law to attend school until the 12th grade, there are not enough high schools to make this enforceable. To those who are more fortunate, such as my previous host family, what a shame to see the opportunity for education go to waste because of the distraction of the TV!

In many places, nature still rules here, covering old house foundations with flourescent green moss and vines after just a few months. Fruit trees burst with their offerings in every other yard, and gardens and local fincas still provide most of the food for those out in the country. But as the TV brings with its intense stare the message of a "modern", urbanized, prepackaged lifestyle, fewer and fewer people appreciate the surrounding land of plenty. I search for insights on how to kill the creature who dominates Panama´s sticky nights.