Out the window, I can barely make out the bright yellow of the flowering guayacan trees, before we land on a runway in the jungle. More melons, some tomatoes, and six Kuna women in their bejeweled dresses and beads get on the plane. An American too. Just out of college, he wears a cap and his shirt is faintly aloha. He is speaking the Kuna language, helping the ladies with their handbags and making them laugh. When I introduce myself and ask why he’s here, the American goes, "Yeah, Peace Corps, heard of it?"
He's been here in the San Blas Islands on the Caribbean coast of Southern Panama doing environmental work. "Just over a year," he says, "I love it. I love the people, I love their culture." He turns to fix their seatbelts, and then answers my question about his work. "Yeah, I go from village to village teaching stuff like you know, you gotta use gravel instead of coral, and if you're gonna use coral, use dead coral."
We take off, we land again, we take off. This time, I can see some of the islands. Gary Larson dots – some sand, a few palm trees. Cartoonish islands like this exist nowhere else in the world.
