The tropical heat was amplified by the fact I was standing on a huge, steaming pile of poo. Literally, it was steaming, as in hot to the touch and radiating upwards as I attacked it with my shovel. Calf-high in horse poo on steroids (aka an organic fertilizer called bocachi), I was happy. The shoveling movements repetetive and soothing to the body and soul, I smiled at my neighbor friend helping me mix the pile. Her little sister of no more than four years gave it a few timid pokes with the shovel and in no time the job was completed.

Considering it costs $20 a sack for chemical fertilizer and anywhere from $0-$1.50 a sack of organic fertilizer (all of the ingredients can be found or purchased locally), I've been pushing the organic variety. Adding in the costs of contamination and dependency the land develops for chemical fertilizer, this locally grown organic fertilizer, bocachi, is the idealistic solution. I'm beginning the revolution poco a poco in the schools, with the students, the one place where there is sometimes have an attentive audience. Plus, we'll have it to use on the new tree nursery and school garden.

All that aside, the revelation that I was happy standing in a pile of poo was made particularly clear due to the dual life I've been living for the past two weeks. Caring for a house of some Americans on the beach at night while working with the locals in town and in school during the day, the contrast between modern luxuries and basic simplicity was pronounced. Having access to high speed internet, washer and dryer, other modern conveniences, and privacy, one would assume that I would be happier here, or at least accomplish more.

Yet, when I'm in my little rural town, I'm surrounded by people, who now consider me a part of their everyday experience. They come over to visit, even when I may want to be alone. They help me when I need it, without being asked or asking for anything in return. They do not know another way of life, racing from one convenience to another in order to cram as many as possible in a day, a slave to a high standard of living. Today, I loved that one of my main tasks was to stick a shovel into a pile of poo and knock it around a little. It was smelly and hot and dirty and real.

This morning, I spent hours getting lost in the internet, accomplishing little but updating a pet project web site (part of me wishes it would have died, like I had thought). I stared at faces of those from far away, and thought about getting in touch with a few. It seems the more time I have in front of the screen, the more lost I become dissociated from reality. I accomplish less of importance and lose sight of priorities, ultimately leading to an unfound feeling of slight depression and frustration. I am glad that my life is no longer that way and it will never be again.

Ten cuidado, convenience can be nothing more than a way to speed through life. Stop and smell the horse poo.

It was si Dios hubiera querido
The aguacero arrived at tres en punto
Panama Verde meeting postponed
for a sunnier afternoon?

A few months ago yo hubiera estado
In the school, sentada, esperando
Worried that I would disappoint - who?

But now as I lay happily in the hammock
Messily making out with a mango
(first of the season)
Regalar-ed during a previous paseo

I feel very content
And much less wet
Since becoming a bit more
*Panameno*

In a few days the travel journal web page I built last year will die. During many hours, I learned the basics about html and web page building in the process of making the unfinished page. It served its purpose, I suppose. Yet, I am sad to see it go. Que va.