We had no idea….life on Cartí Mulatupu for 6 days… Dec. 6 through 12...
12 LASPers, our intern and prof stayed on 2 indigenous islands in the Caribbean with the Kuna…to simply live in solidarity with them and learn to communicate in more ways than verbally.
We drove in trucks across the Panamerica Highway to arrive to Cartí, the shore of Panamá where we took small wooden boats across the ocean to the 2 islands where we would live for the week. It was a gray and dreary day. We were nervous and excited about the unknown and the challenge. I had expectations to speak a bit of Kuna, learn differences and similarities between Kuna and Bribri, learn how to express gratitud without the word ‘thank you’ (because it doesn’t exist in Kuna) but by my actions, facial expressions, and attitude, and live without the concept of time.
Little did we know that we would endure a tropical depression and the effects of la Niña…rain every day, island flooding..¡que difícil!...the most challenging and difficult week of the semester! Wow.
The Kuna - The comarca of the Kuna includes land in Panamá and several islands off the coast where around 32,000 semi-autonomous Kuna live. My island - Cartí Mulatupu had over 900 Kuna living on it. Each island has its own government/laws while also protected under the Panamanian governemnt/law. (When it is not raining) the men go out to fish or to the mainland (Panamá) to gather firewood, hunt, get fresh water, etc. The women prepare the food, take care of the children, and sew their molas for their own clothing and to sell to tourists. The children do have a school on the island and they play together. Men will also weave baskets or other utensils out of grass plants. For celebrations, the community dances and drinks ‘chicha’ (fermented traditional drink) and plays music. Each night the community has Congress…a meeting led by the Sila who chants in Kuna and then another person interprets the message. The Kuna are truly creative, open, beautiful people.
Mi familia…I lived with a grandma and her two daughters Isidelia and Marline. Each daughter had two children: Reye, Marelinez, Josué, and Jacob….all 5 and under. They all slept in hammocks in the main room of the hut but gave me the queen sized bed in the separate room…which was a blessing to have privacy but I got flea bites from the mattress. My family showed me hospitality through giving me the seat of honor….the lawn chair…in the hut. They prepared me food…even special Kuna dishes that took extra time. They always accompanied me…to the latrine, to take my bucket bath, to wander the island. My mom gave me the traditional bracelet and a necklace.
Gratitud…and all I could do to show my thanks was to eat the food and to use facial expressions and the few kuna words that I had learned. It was challenging to not be able to communicate with my family because they only spoke a few words of Spanish.
A typical day of this rainy week consisted of getting up around 8 am…going to the bathroom in the latrine over the ocean, accompanied by my aunt…eating a breakfast of 2 homemade Kuna breadsticks with 2 Kraft singles…sitting and watching my mom sew molas (the artesanía (quilting/traditional dress) of the Kuna)…journaling…playing with balloons/bubbles/play dough/paper with my siblings….playing Uno and Old Maid with Laura and her older siblings….eating a lunch of plaintain soup and boiled fresh fish…touring the island during the one moment when it stopped raining in the afternoon, playing with other Kuna children…dinner of rice and tuna or pasta or some strange mixture…going to a church service or the community congress…sitting under the one lamp with the family…bedtime around 9 pm. O to pass the time…the days seemed so long because we were stuck inside most of the time because of the rain. I felt trapped. I always felt relieved when I would see one of the other students on the island. It was encouraging to have a few people who could relate to challenge of adapting to a different culture.
By the end of the week, the tropical depression stayed strong. We actually did not know if we could leave on Saturday as scheduled! It was quite the anxiety for our leaders to figure out. The Panamanian government had closed the Panamerican highway…the only route back to Panama City out of the comarca of Kuna. The other option would be to take boats to another island that has a small airport in order to fly out. But that was doubtful as well because the waters were too dangerous to travel in the first place. So we did a lot of waiting in desperation because we did not want to stay any longer….because of God’s hand and also being privileged Americans with connections, we were able to get out of Kuna land safe and sound. We did travel by boat in the rain singing Christmas carols for an hour to the airport island. We did get on a 20 passenger Panama Air airplane, which we were unsure if it would be able to come or not….We are privileged….other people had been waiting in that airport more than a day to get out of the area because it was the only option.
It is not fair…yet at the same time we were so thankful to be out of there, to return to the hotel, shower, de-lice ourselves, and be clean! We like to think that all people are equal…but in that moment, why did we think that we deserved to leave that island when that is the reality the Kuna are living? I was uncomfortably stretched through immersion in a different culture during an oppressive situation….and for that I do not know what light I just painted of the experience…I do not know really how to say, but I did anyway. Let me share my stories when I come home!
