Crabbing in Maje Village

On one of my early trips to Panama for RFB, I found myself swapping crab stories with Sebe, our longtime friend and collaborator. I told him about my family’s love for crabbing on the Oregon coast, and about eating blue crab in Baltimore with my grandparents. He smiled and said, “We love crab too—you’ve just got to try it Wounaan-style.”

Next time I was in Maje, Sebe had something lined up. I joined Arturo, the village’s best fisherman, for a day out on the river. We set out fishing nets first, then Arturo grabbed a snorkel mask, a sharpened metal rod, and without hesitation, slipped into the river. I was still thinking about baited traps and chicken strings—he was already spearfishing crabs underwater. Not long after, he came up, crab in hand. At one point, Sebe even leapt from the boat to grab a crab that surfaced nearby. It was fast, skillful, and a little wild—and I loved it.

Back in the village, Raquela cooked the biggest crab we caught and served it alongside arroz con pollo. After a good helping, we passed the rest around to friends and family gathered nearby. As night fell, Raquela set up a rope-hung smoking rack over the fire to preserve the fish we’d caught earlier. It would be breakfast the next morning.

The resourcefulness in Maje isn’t showy—it’s woven into daily life. Food is caught, shared, smoked, and saved. And like most things in this village, it’s done together. As we plan our next trip back, I’m most looking forward to those quiet, generous moments—the ones that stay with you.