Record Rainfall - Panama Canal Closed for Third Time in History

I know a lot of you up north have been suffering through unbearably bitter cold, snow, ice, and other types of miserable weather, but those of us 8º north of the equator have been having our share of climatologic problems as well. Until 2 days ago, I wasn’t sure the sun still existed. In the 73 years that climate records have been kept, it has never rained so much in Panama. People have died, landslides have wiped out communities, roads have collapsed, and bridges have been rendered impassable. Additionally, on December 9, 2010, the canal was even closed for the first time in 21 years. (The last time occurred when the US sent troops in to topple Noriega and his government.) In other words, the country’s main source of income was shut down for a day.

What exactly happened to shut the canal down? Water overflowed the banks of both Lake Gatun and Lake Alajuela, which supply the canal. This made it impossible to use the locks that transfer boats through the canal. In order to improve the situation, the floodgates in both lakes had to be opened causing more than 1500 people to be evacuated from nearby neighborhoods. Homes, lost.

Adding insult to injury, a mudslide in the Caribbean coastal town of Portobelo killed eight people and left the community of 3,000 inhabitants cut off from the rest of the country. The total number of dead is 10. In what the Panamanians call “the interior” of the country over 6,000 people, and 50,000 hectares of crops have been affected and domestic animals due to the heavy rains. In total, 33 communities were flooded.

And, now, as a repercussion to all of this rain, one of the water treatment plants has been working at only about 10% of capacity over the past 3 days. Too much mud is clogging the system. No one is sure when it will be fixed.

La Niña (“The girl” – a phenomenon that causes extreme weather) has been blamed for all of this. What’s the expression – “Hell have no fury like a woman scorned.” So, what did we do to upset this girl so much?

Expat Info Taken Directly from Cartus Relocation - My (few) Comments in Quotes

Market Focus: Panama.

Relocating, especially with family, is never easy. There are many changes that need to be handled and each family has different situations to address. In addition, there are other factors that may dramatically affect the success of the relocation process, such as the new location.

What makes a location more appealing than others to expats? Statistical information about countries offer a general perspective, but this article explores important categories that make Panama a pleasant place for expatriates to live.

Commuting time: It ranges from between 5 to 40 minutes from any point of the metro area to P&G Offices. Whether you like the urban or suburban lifestyle both are within reasonable time and distance from your main offices.

"This is quite true, for the most part. My husband can be door to door in 20 minutes as he travels counter traffic flow. However, traffic is getting worse. You just need to learn to schedule around peak hours."

Helpers: You do not need to plan a dinner out with friends two weeks in advance depending on a baby sitter… Simply decide to go on the spot! Domestic Helpers are part of the Panamanian culture, homes are designed with helper´s quarters, and salaries range from $250 to $350 per month.

"Ok, first thing you need to decide is if you want someone to live with you full-time. It may be the best decision you've ever made, or it could feel like the biggest invasion of privacy, depending on what you are used to or can get used to. Most internationals tend to pay around $400/month because cost of living is on the rise, and it just seems fair. I'm told that just a few years ago most people paid maids around $8/day, whereas internationals now pay around $20/day. Ironically, internationals are increasing cost of living by trying to pay fairly."

Groceries: Although Panama is a small place, its crossroads heritage has brought many ethnicities with their supply of ingredients in supermarkets, delis, and ethnic shops. In the main, everything is affordable… of course it depends what country you are coming from but most people will be surprised to learn that you can buy a whole 4.5 lb sirloin steak for your BBQ for US$14.00 (Shrimp, lobster and crabs are inexpensive too!).

"True. You can get almost everything you need, maybe not everything you want. One thing to note is that groceries, and many other items, tend to be cyclical. If you can't find something, look again in about 3 weeks (seriously) or in the case of vegetables, you may have to wait until next season. I remember wanting to buy a avocado for salad when we first got here and I was told every visit for 3 months that avocados would be arriving soon...meaning when they are in season in Panama."

Extracurricular Activities: Enjoy golf, scuba diving, surfing, ballet, yoga, soccer, football, baseball, martial arts, horseback riding, music… Pretty much anything but skiing! For your reference: Swimming private lessons range from US$2 to US$25 dollars; tennis from US$6 to US$25; piano or guitar $15 to $20 if the teacher comes to your place.

"For me, the challenge has been finding the activities in the city. So many things are advertised by word of mouth, or little pamphlets placed in some office, or social/country clubs, or in mommy groups or school...and recently, Facebook. I have no children, so I've stumbled through this process. Luckily, I have found the absolute best yoga instructor ever at Akila Wellness Center in Paitilla."


Continuing Education: In addition to local universities there are international universities such as Florida State, University of Louisville, Tecnológico de Monterrey, Georgia Tech Panama Logistics Innovation & Research Center, and others that offer excellent programs in Panama.

"I have a friend who got her MBA here from University of Louisville and another who got a specialization from Monterrey. I was reluctant to start a degree program not knowing how long we'd be here. This may be one of my regrets."


Outdoor activities: Nature in Panama is wonderful… A Dutch expat once shared, in genuine amazement, that she went with her 3 kids to Isla Iguana (Pacific Coast) and while snorkeling they witnessed humpback whales… Surrounded by the Caribbean and the Pacific, you can choose among many different beaches according to your preference: Deep sea fishing, scuba, snorkeling, surfing, sailing… You can also choose the highlands for coffee tasting, river rafting, canopy, trekking, bird watching, visit indigenous reserves, you name it… But whatever you decide, prepare to indulge in fresh lobster caught in front of your eyes in San Blas and cooked especially for you!

"I can't wait to explore more of this country. It is truly amazing. I'm a country girl who grew up on the coast, so getting out of the city is such a release for me - the beaches, the mountains, the rain forest...and the fresh air!"

Cultural activities: Let´s face it… the entire population of the country is 3.1 million so the cultural events on offer are not as extensive as those in big, international cities. There may not be that many operas but be amazed every month by folkloric events all over the country.
Returning to the world: And last but not least... If you decide to fulfill a personal growth experience by sharing your knowledge, talent and skills, there are a number of great causes where your voluntary work can make an impact on the environment and on the lives of others. Your talent will be welcome and appreciated in any of these organizations:
Mar Viva/Ancon – Environment Conservation
Hogar Malambo/Aldeas SOS /Casa Esperanza– Orphan Children homes
Hogares Crea, Cruz Blanca – Drug Addiction
Make a Wish/Fanlyc (Leukemia & Cancer) – Children with terminal disease
Fundacancer / Casita de Mausi – Cancer patients
Pro-Niñez / Fundación Pro-Niños del Darién - Children living in rural areas
Article provided by GS Relocation Panama

"Again, true. Very few cultural activities by US standards of a city the same size, but some great restaurants and a beautiful historic area. I have been going with a group of girls to Hogar Malambo, an orphanage outside of the city, to hold babies and play with toddlers. Just today, I attended a Christmas party that several girls from the group put together. They were able to get B-Happy, an indoor playground, to donate space and employee time, get gifts for the 50 kids who attended, have food/drinks donated, have Santa show up, AND get an amazing number of diapers, food items, cleaning supplies, etc. donated to the orphanage. I have never seen such joy in one place. So, if you miss the cultural activities, getting involved in social causes could really make a difference in how you feel about how you are spending your time."

Auto Shine Panama – a MUST if (or when) you have that fender bender

Although traffic rarely reaches speeds higher than 60 km/hour on most roads in Panama City (except the corridors and “cinta costera”), it tends to be chaotic and accidents are frequent. Just drive around the city for a day and you see how a two-lane road can become 3 lanes and have cars parked on both sides of the street despite the fact there is no shoulder, that a green light sometimes means go, but red usually does, and, because of the lack of respect for signals, intersection gridlock is probable. But what is inevitable is that there will be accidents – little fender benders.

Within the first month of living here, my car had a “parking lot accident” while I was in the grocery store, and my husband had the pleasure of being hit by a 1970s style tank of a car that promptly fled the scene. Two relatively small problems that insurance wouldn’t cover. And, then, I got the bright idea to lend my car to a friend while we were away. Please, no lectures, I’ve heard them all. Who lends a car? That would be me. And, yes, you guessed it, my friend was involved in a fender-bender.

Okay, good karma has not been the norm for me here in Panama, but then, we found Auto Shine! Auto Shine is a family-owned business that has offered services to conserve and protect cars for over 30 years. They do everything from window-tinting and detailing to, you guessed it, bodywork for those dings and dents!

Service was phenomenal. I drove my car to their locale on Via Porras in front of Calle 65, and Luis, the owner’s son and office manager, brought me back to the apartment. I was told work would be completed in 2 days, and in 2 days, it was done. Not only was it done, it looked brand new! Luis also picked me up for the apartment to get my car. Gotta love the personalized service! We were so happy with the results that we took my husband’s SUV to be repaired as well. Again, impeccable results.

Results are one thing, but pricing is important, too. Before looking into Auto Shine, I went to the Toyota dealer to find out how much it would cost to make repairs. I was told that the entire bumper would have to be replaced and of course, there was the possibility they would have to order other parts, and then there was the paint job, and... you get the picture. Auto Shine was straight forward, telling us what they thought they could achieve and for how much. Go figure, no new parts necessary. I’m pretty sure we saved anywhere upwards of 30%.

Net, Auto Shine gets my vote for repairing those fender-benders. Personalized service, honesty, and punctuality. Oh, and perhaps equally as important for some, both father and son speak English!

The reason you’re here makes all the difference (in my opinion)

I’m sure if you have read this blog from the start, you realize that my adaptation process to Panama has been a bit cumbersome, if not rocky. I attribute this to several factors:

• my husband’s extensive traveling, meaning I’m frequently alone
• the lack of a network or support system – starting from zero to build friendships and community
• losing a close friend only month’s after our arrival
• the language, making everyday activities just that much more exhausting
• the numerous difficulties in the apartment – that continue to persist (just this weekend we lost power to half the apartment, and we were told a subterranean cable is damaged – woohoo! – Can we dig up the building’s lobby please to find and fix it??? No? Oh, so no a/c, huh, for like, um, forever? Great.) The bright side is that this is a rental.

Over the course of this year, I’ve realized that not all people feel the way I do about this particular change in life. In general, I think people tend to fall into two categories – those who are here because they chose to come and live in Panama (e.g. those who wanted to start a new life and certain, more adventurous retirees) and those who came out of necessity (e.g. expats, transferees, and other retirees). I have noticed that those who came by choice, meaning they wanted to make Panama their home, tend to adapt much more rapidly and enjoy life here more than those of us who have come out of obligation. Why is this?

Well, think about it. Anything we opt to do is easier. When it is an obligation, our decision-making is compromised. Obligation flies in the face of our core value of independence, the ability to think and act by oneself. Therefore, those who are seeking something better – better weather and a lower cost of living if they are from countries like Canada or Ireland, for example – are acting independently and then assume the responsibility for their actions. They also know how long they plan on staying – until they start up and establish a company, for the rest of their lives, etc. Many times they bring what they want with them and leave their “life baggage” in their home country. Regardless, they make the decisions. I’m not saying that changes the circumstances in which they have to function. Panama is still Panama. We all live in the same place.

However, those of us who are here through obligation - be it through a work transfer or because one can’t afford to retire in one’s country of origin. Both of these situations compound stress. I can only speak for those who have been transferred here. Those of us who are living as expats normally have to live and act under two sets of rules: those of the host country while working under the requirements of the transferring company. Many times these rules clash. A very simple example: the relocation company needs a document within a week or you will not receive reimbursement for money owed to you, you won't get paid, etc., but paperwork in Panama will take a minimum of three weeks. The relocation company is working under US rules and can’t understand why, when you have a week to complete something, you can’t get it done. Obviously, you didn’t start your work on time. No exceptions. The Panamanian counterpart sees no need to rush. Everything will get done in due time – not your time. No worries.

Many spouses also find themselves unable to work due to Panamanian government regulations. My husband holds a work visa that allows me to accompany him in this country but not to work. (This is true in many countries, not just Panama.) If I would like to work, I may, but the company that decides to hire me must provide my work visa. In essence, they sponsor me. If that company provides a visa, then my husband’s company will wash their hands of me – I am no longer their legal responsibility. No big deal unless I lose my job, and then, according to Panamanian law, I have three days to leave the country. Just recently, the Panamanian government sent a memo to the company where my husband works reminding employees that spouses do not have the legal right to work. If it is found that a spouse is working, the company and the employee will be fined. Better safe than sorry, right?

Also, many assume that because you are transferred with a major corporation, there will be spousal support or some type of help in the adaptation process. This may be true in countries where multinational corporations have existed for a long period of time, but not so in Panama. Panamanians may be used to having foreigners in their land, but not until recently have they had to interact with them, and not until the last 2-3 years have they had to deal the large influx of foreign families from multinational companies. Through no fault of their own, they simple aren’t prepared for the demands of these companies, not to mention the families.

And, perhaps the most difficult point of all is that, for some of us, we were coming from ideal situations, where we had a strong sense of community and comfortable living standards. If we felt we had a choice, we wouldn't have left. This was my case. I was pretty darned fulfilled with my life – great social network, engaging activities, challenging job as an accent modification coach at a prominent university, and a comfortable living environment, both at home and in our city.

Little by little, I am creating that environment again for myself. Unfortunately, with my husband’s traveling, he is not involved as much in my new world as he was when we lived in the States. Just this simple point makes me believe that it will be difficult to ever think of Panama as “home”, because as we all know, “home is where the heart is”. And, if your heart is always traveling away from you, all you have is a house, or an apartment with so many daggone problems I’m lucky I haven’t ripped all my hair out. But, as I keep telling him, my goal is to love Panama so much by the time we have to leave – whenever that may be – that I leave crying. Right now, with the friendships I have been able to form, I’m pretty sure I’m be crying a river.

Reflecting on our first year – Words, Places, and Practices

September 6 marked one year for us here in Panama. I was reflecting on the year with my Spanish teacher (practicing the past tenses, of course), telling her how much my life has changed, how I have learned to appreciate what life has given me in the U.S. and here in Panama. I am learning to slow down – not be so “rigid”, as my mother-in-law says (oh, come one, I’m a Virgo, what do you want from me?) – in some ways I’m learning to accept mediocrity and be okay with it. You know the sayings, “when in Rome" and "Go with the flow"...

In the process of adapting, there are several words, places, and practices I have needed to understand in order to embrace living here. I have chosen four, for no particular reason other than that they have stuck with me:

“Coima”
A friend of ours had a rather unfortunate traffic accident a few weeks back, and he found himself handing a $100 “propina”, or tip, over to the police who arrived at the scene. It was either that or have the accident and his face broadcast on the Panamanian news. Awkward. Another friend was stopped for talking on her cell phone while driving (it’s against the law, by the way). When the police asked for a little $20 tip to make the ticket go away, she refused opting for the ticket instead – a nice $100 fine. “Coima”, or paying someone off to disregard the rules, is uncomfortable for many foreigners, but a part of Panamanian life to some degree. You may never find yourself in the position where you are asked for a “tip”, but you will inevitably know someone who has. The government is not blind to the situation as is demonstrated in the following headline from September 1, 2009: Filmed Police Identified Collecting Bribe (“Identifican a Policia filmado cobrando coima”) but I can’t help but wonder how they can change the situation. In my opinion, until public servants are paid fairly, I’m afraid “coima” will be a household word for some time to come.

“Avenida de Los Poetas”
Avenida de Los Poetas is one of the most beautiful street names in the city with one of the worst reputations. When coming back from the Causeway, or Amador, and heading back into the city, you have two choices – Avenida de los Poetas is one of them. Choose the other. Best way to make it home without incident.

Ironically, just yesterday, a friend and I were coming back from the Causeway, where we dropped another friend off, and much to our surprise “the other road” was completely blocked off by orange construction cones, forcing us to go toward Avenida de los Poetas. Okay, so here’s the scenario, two obviously gringa-looking ladies in a nice 4x4 driving closer to the ghetto, both understanding that options are limited. At this point, it looks like there’s one option – go straight. Visions of people coming out of their houses onto the streets to inspect and then strip down the 4x4 came rushing to mind. But wait, if we back up on the highway and cross the median, we can get back onto Avenida Balboa and avoid any problems. So we pull off to the side of the road to discuss if we’d be breaking the law if we backed up. Ok, seriously, only two gringas would have to pull off to the side of the road to ponder whether to go through the ghetto or back up on a freeway to safety!

Overall, Panama is a relatively safe place. I’m not trying to scare anyone. It is a city, though. All cities have good and bad sectors.

“Chiva”
This is a wonderfully entertaining cultural experience that you have to try at least once while in Panama. In Panama, a “chiva” is simply an old American school bus that has been repainted and converted into a party bus, or mini-discothèque. If you rent a good one, these things are equipped with a bar, disco lights, TV, A/C, tinted windows, dance poles, the smoke machine that is used at concerts, and a sound system that will jostle every organ in your body. You drive 5 miles per hour around the city for about 3 hours while drinking and dancing. Fabulous and a bit unreal.

“Primo” or “Mopri”
We have some Panamanian friends who have been just tremendously generous and hospitable with us. We get invited to almost all of the family functions – occasional weekends at the beach house, birthdays, sporting events, etc. In fact, the last time we went out with them, their dad pulled us aside and said, “You know you are family, right?” (Did your heart just well up 3 times its original size, and did you have the desire to give the man a hug??? I tell ya, when you are from a tight family and you have to leave them behind, hearing those words is like a thousand hugs being lavished upon you.) Ok, I digress an eensy, teensy bit.

Every time we go to a family event, we meet a new “primo/prima”, or cousin. At first, I was like – wow, how cool, such a big family, and they all like to hang together! Nice. Later I found out that there were almost no true, blood relatives among them. They were all good friends of the family. I have to say, as much as I love this family, I was almost a relieved to know they weren’t so prolific. So, long story short, “primo” is used for close friends. I’m waiting for the day when I’m introduced as the “prima gringa” – my Panamanian experience will have come full circle then.

Now, there’s also the word, “mopri” – a bastardized version of the aforementioned “primo”. You may hear on the streets people greeting one other with “Qué sopa, mopri?!” (Ok, all of you Spanish speakers out there – what does it mean? 5 seconds – go!) For those of you who guessed, “What’s up, Cousin?, you win! The Panamanians have an affinity for inverting and cutting words as well as supplementing badly pronounced English words for perfectly good Spanish words. (Case in point, “Esa ‘guial’ ‘ta buena” – That ‘girl’ is hot. Once again, subject for another day.)

So, the next time you hear a Panamanian say he had to pay coima while riding a chiva with his mopri, you will know exactly what he meant!

Dog breed most affected by Panama's weather

By the way, I forgot to mention that the breeds of dogs that have the hardest time adjusting to Panama's humid weather are the following:

American cocker spaniel
basset hound
dachshund
English setter
poodle
schnauzer
Shetland sheepdog
shih tzu
many terrier breeds including the West Highland white, Australian, Jack Russell, etc.

Most water dogs, such as labs and retrievers, have fewer skin problems but you may notice a rise in ear infections, also due to the humidity.

May I please point out that this list is by no means conclusive. Just the other day, I ran into a lady who's Rottweiler had a severe case of dermatitis. She said she was sure it would get better when dry season got here. Only problem is dry season is still 3 months away.

Doggone it!

We've been here a just over a year now. As I've managed to adapt more to my surroundings, our poor pup has been worse for the wear. Living in an apartment for the first time in his short little life took a little getting used to - the potty pads, the elevators, the limited green space, and the lack of sidewalks. But, he's been a real trooper. What's really gotten under his skin has been the humidity - literally. It started out last year as occasional circular marks on his abdomen, manageable but itchy. This year, however, as rainy season has progressed, it has become ulcerated skin lesions, hair lose, and uncontrollable scratching. Despite wiping him down every time we come back from a walk, despite keeping him out of the rain when possible, he has still gotten a bad case of dermatitis. So, I decided to take him to the veterinarian.

Veterinary service here is usually first come first served. When I arrived at the vet’s office, I was relieved to find I was the only one in the waiting room. Wonderful! So, I checked in, sat down, and tried to calm my nervous pooch. (He’d been planning his escape from the time we exited the car.) 20 minutes pass and then 30. Still the only one in the waiting room. I ask if the vet is even there. Yes, but she’s busy with another client. Ah. Ok. 45 minutes. Will she be available soon? My baby had lost at least a pound in saliva production by then. Couldn’t say. Should I go elsewhere? Don’t worry, she’ll be ready for you soon. Another lady comes rushing in in a state of panic. An emergency. She, of course, goes before me. I understand. An hour and 15 minutes. I’ve learned to be more patient here, but I still have limits. I head to another clinic. What a line! Wait time – about an hour. Sigh. So, I head home and do what I should have done in the first place, call my dad, who just happens to be a veterinarian. Diagnosis and “prescription” are given over the phone. It’s been about a week now, and he’s doing better. Please, oh, please, if you plan on bringing a dog to Panama, have Head & Shoulders shampoo available. It will be your secret weapon.

But, this was my breaking point in a series of experiences in inadequate or unacceptable dog care here. Long story short – veterinarians do not receive the same level of education as those in more developed nations, and kennel facilities give marginal care, making good friends who are willing to take care of your furry baby a necessity if you’d like to travel. Two specific examples leap to mind – When our dog got his vaccinations, he was given one for Coronavirus, apparently used instead of Bordatella. Within hours of the injections, his snout started to swell, so I called the vet. It was thought that it was a reaction from the cream that had been placed on his nose. (The cream, by the way, was to help heal a gash he had sustained while in a kennel.) No need to overreact. But, by closing time, our baby had started scratching like crazy, drawing blood. Hives had formed. He started a fever. I had no idea what to do. It was Friday after 6 p.m., and just over an hour earlier I had been told I was overreacting. So, I called my dad. He gave me an over - the - phone diagnosis and prescription, which helped us get through the night. The next day, a different vet confirmed he had an allergic reaction to the vaccine. Now back to that gash on his nose. During Thanksgiving last year, we left our dog in what is supposedly one of the best kennels here in Panama – they even asked if we had any specific instructions we wanted them to follow. By the time we returned, our previously docile baby had learned how to bark with the best of them, he had lost 3 pounds (he’s a mini-dachshund by the way), he had chewed apart his bed, and his nose had a nasty laceration. No explanation was given for any of this. Instead, I was admonished for having a dog that barked so much. Come to find out, part of the reason he was barking and injured nose was because he was asking to be let out to do his “duty”, something they only permitted once a day. Again, these are just 2 examples.

So, now, my husband and I made the heartbreaking decision to send our little guy back to the States to live with my parents, a place where he will hopefully no longer suffer from his allergies and where we know he will be well taken care of. In a few weeks, we will be on a plane – barring any problems in getting government paperwork completed on time. Sigh.

Indiscreet Question

There’s this “concierge” worker in our building that I have taken a liking to for his strong work ethic and for his straightforwardness when speaking and dealing with people. He has a welcoming smile and a witty sense of humor. He’s a humble but proud man from the Kuna tribe.

Occasionally, I ask him to help me with odd jobs around the apartment, mainly because he appreciates earning extra money and is truly thankful for the opportunity, and also, because (in full disclosure) if he does the work, it means I don’t have to.

The other day, I asked him to clean the balcony – outside windows, floors, and furniture. With all the construction, the place gets quite dusty. On this particular day, he asked if he could ask me an “indiscreet” question. Well, of course, it would depend on the question, I answered. But, I would answer if I could. And so the conversation goes:

- What do you do all day? (He probably sees me as a rich woman with nothing to do but outsource work.)
- Well, 4 days a week, I teach. Some days I take yoga class. I clean the apartment, and on days like today, I go to an orphanage to hold babies and play with toddlers.
- Really? Which orphanage?
- Malambo
- Ah, that’s close to where I live.
- Really?
- Yeah, there are lots of Kuna kids there.
- Yes, I have seen a few.
- So, why don’t you have children? You don’t want any?
- (A touchy subject for me, but I’m getting better at answering) No, I would love to have children, but I can’t. We have tried. I’ve lost three pregnancies.
- Oh, I’m sorry. That must be tough.
- Yes, but I’m learning to accept it.
- Have you thought about adopting?
- Yes, we have. It’s quite a process.
- Do you want children?
- (Thinking to myself – where is this going?) Well…. I love kids, but I’m not sure how they could fit into our lives right now.
- 'Cause if you want some kids, I can get you some kids.
- (What?!? Did I hear what I thought I just heard?!? He can get me kids??? Curb the surprised facial expression.) Oh, I don’t think it’s that easy. The international adoption laws…
- No, I can get you some. I know some Kuna women who would give you their kids.
- Oh, that’s very sweet of you, but I think it would be a little difficult.
- No, I know a Chilean couple who took some kids. They adopted them.
- Um, well, I don’t know how long we will be here and how easy it would be to move to another country with the children.
- Well, if you want some kids, let me know. I’ll get them for you.
- Thanks. So kind of you.

And he smiled and got back to work.

I have since learned that the Kuna will, at times, offer their kids to people they believe are better off than they. This is a way of making sure their children grow up with better opportunities and possibly a better future.

Swimming in the Clouds - Rainy season

Dress it up any way you want. Call it “green season” if it makes you feel good. Call it “winter” even though it’s not cold, and heaven knows, it’s not going to snow. But, the reality is - rainy season means flooded streets, muddy sidewalks, increased traffic, honking horns, thunder, lightning, more traffic, decreased patience, more horns… and at times, days and days without sunshine. We arrived in the middle of rainy season last year, and here we are, almost a year later in the thick of it again.

Dealing with and preparing for rainy season requires the following:

1. Have a good umbrella. Take that back – have 4 good umbrellas: one for home, one for the car, one for the office if you work, and one just in case. We are an 8-umbrella family, and we have used all of them at one time or another since here.
2. Make sure that at least one of your vehicles is an SUV. Go ahead and buy the little sports car if you wish, but know that you will only be able to rely on it 4 or 5 months out of the year.
3. When encountering flooded streets (and you will encounter them), move slowly and steadily through the water if, and only if, you really think you can make it. If you aren’t sure, don’t go through. Don’t use the brake. Don’t go in reverse. Don't expect that there will be tow trucks to drag you out if you get stuck. Slow and steady.
4. Let friends and family know that now is not a good time to visit. Sure the airfare may be cheaper, but there is a reason for that. That wonderful beach vacation they’ve been dreaming about will probably be spent inside playing cards, especially during the months of October and November.

Nevertheless, there’s another side to this season. It’s romantic and mysterious. The lightning shows make you want to grab a bottle of wine, sit on the balcony (far enough out of the way to avoid the pelting rain), and admire nature at work. Sheltered by the clouds, amid the lightning and thunder, the sunset creates deep hues of orange, red, and purple. Other days, when the sun can’t find the energy to force itself out, everything is steeped in shades of silver, giving the appearance of a 1920s film or Ansel Adams photograph. Those are the days when the clouds creep up on you, seeping into every nook, until you are standing in the middle of a milky light unable to see anything before or behind you. I’m constantly fascinated, amazed, in awe of the beauty of this place. Fascinated by its rich colors. Amazed by the absence of them as well.

Rainy season – in a nutshell - it’s the most beautiful mess you’ll ever have to be in. Aw, what the heck, invite the family down. You can sit on the balcony and chat while saturating your senses.

Akila Yoga - You've gotta try this place!

I'm a tough customer - but when I come across something that I absolutely love or hate, I will give my opinion. And, right now, I'm telling you - I LOVE Akila Yoga.

Three years of pain gone in 3 weeks – literally! As a teacher carrying heavy loads of books and equipment and as a runner, pain was just part of the game, I thought. I had tried everything to get rid of the back pain – physical therapy, chiropractics, and even an injection of cortisone into my spinal nerve – nothing worked until I started personalized training with Mijael at Akila Yoga y Danza.

Mijael helped me understand how important the mind-body connection is in healing physical problems. Through sequences of exercises, postures, and daily meditation that Mijael prepared for me, my back pain disappeared and my inner happiness started to return! (We're always happier when we aren't carrying a ton of pain around, right?) What a wonderful thing to wake up pain-free!

Yoga has been my daily energy boost, my stress reducer, and my mental and physical therapy that has helped me get through some of the tougher times while living abroad.

Oh, an even cooler thing to note about Mijael, my miracle-making yoga instructor, he's bilingual (Spanish/English) and understands what it means to live through the changes that come with moving from one country/culture to another.

You gotta give this guy a try!

The Tailor of Panama – The Movie and its Deeper Sociological Insight

The Tailor of Panama is a dialogue - driven movie, which brings to light some of the charming and not so attractive characteristics of Panama… depending on the perspective one takes in interpreting the conversations offered. This movie was not highly rated when it came out in 2001 as many were anticipating a high-action, James Bond type spy flick. But as someone who is presently living in Panama, there were several lines in the movie that struck a chord with me, that made me reflect on Panama as a culture. Seeing Panama in its days prior to the international “invasion” of multinational corporations and northern retirees made quite an impression as well.

The ones that resonated most:

“Nobody ever loses their reputation in Panama. They hang it in the wardrobe for a few months to get its shape back. When they put it on again, it's as good as new.”

- Forgive and forget. Is this having a short memory for bad situations and undesirable or even immoral character? Could it be that there is the belief that nothing will change, so why bother? Or, is it a true belief that people can change? Personally, I question how personal integrity and responsibility figure into the equation? I have yet to find out.


“Do you know what the poor call those? The Cocaine Towers.”

- Posh living and Money laundering is apparently a big thing here. Just 10 years ago the tallest building in Panama was the BBVA building that couldn’t be more than 20 stories high. Now there are skyscrapers going up everywhere. Although some boast that Panama is becoming the Miami of Latin America (never mind the current states of that city), there are still many locals who believe that that these monstrosities are being funded mainly by drug money. I’m just trying to figure out where the heck they are going to get enough people to fill all of the buildings once they are finished with construction. For goodness sake, there are only 3 million Panamanians. How many international retirees and expats will it take? No wonder the Panamanians are a bit leery of us outsiders.


“Their task was to beat the dignity out of anyone remotely critical of Noriega. It was Dr. Frankenstein, George Bush, who created this monster......when he was head of the CIA. And when Noriega's......drug running and brutality got too much even for the CIA......it was George, now President Bush, who decided to take him out. And just to make sure......they firebombed a big chunk of the old city. Sadly, that's where the anti-Noriega rebels were. The handful that Noriega hadn't banged up already. So, no more opposition, silent or otherwise. Burnt......scattered......fled. Or risen again from the ashes.”

- The US and foreign intervention: Let’s just say that the people of Panama have suffered, and this is not the only time in history that the US government has helped create monsters. Just recently I read that there are still 60 bodies from the time of the dictatorship that have not been identified because the government doesn’t have enough money to pay for the research and investigation it would take to do so. However, Panama can be proud of 20 some years of modern-day democracy.

“You're too soft, afraid they'll dislike you if you make them pay. It's tradition. Gentlemen like to keep their tailors waiting for the money. Gentlemen? Find me one.”

- Pay people for the work they do? Is it tradition to keep those who work for you waiting for their pay? This same behavior was apparent in another movie I recently viewed, called “Chance”, a Panamanian-Colombian movie. And, if you don’t pay a person, what kind of work can you expect? Will they work harder to receive the money they are owed, or will they work less and less effectively until they are paid? Coming from a culture that values hard work and payment for doing so, this behavior perplexes me.

“This girl in school told me mothers who work......feel guilty about their children. Why don't you?”

- Stay-at-Home Moms: I firmly believe that having my mom stay home with us when we were children was very beneficial for us. But, should a woman feel guilty about going to work and perhaps sacrifice her personal needs for mental stimulation, personal growth, and interaction with other adults? Should a woman’s goal in life be to marry and have children and NOT work outside of the house? Just throwing a few questions out there. I don’t have the answer. I’m not a mom, but I was a child and I am an adult.

“Well, I had absolutely no idea how delightful Panama was going to be. Yes. It's a beautiful country. I was thinking about the people.”

- Panama: Yes, it is a beautiful country. Yes, the people can be warm and welcoming. A very pleasant place to visit.

“You see, lying's what you do in prison, Lou. It's instead of love, really. You tell a thing the way it ought to be, because it's much better than how it is. If you follow me.”

- White lies: You don’t hurt anyone, do you? If you lie, you are saving me from the truth, which may hurt me. By not hurting me, you must be showing me how much you care. But, please, oh, please, would you just tell me what time you really expect to show up at my place to fix the air conditioner (insert any other item that could break)? And, please, please, tell me how much time you really think it will take to repair. And, please, don’t be so polite to not let me know that you never really knew what you were doing in the first place. I truly prefer honesty; no matter how much it may hurt me.

Late - What?

Several days a week I teach English to a lawyer at his office. The process to get into the building isn't complicated, but it does take some time, so I make sure I leave plenty of time before class to do the necessary steps - park, get my parking ticket from one person, sign in and give my ID to another, take the visitor pass from another, get my ticket stamped by yet another, etc, etc.

Today, I arrived about 10 minutes later than usual. Mind you, I wasn't late but had arrived later than is customary. So, as chit-chat with the man who takes my ID and gives me the visitor badge, I mentioned that I was "running late". His response was so simple, but in one instant and with a few modest phrases, he summed up an aspect of the culture I have been struggling with since our arrival. "Late - What? You have all day. It's only morning." He said it with such enthusiasm that I had to laugh. I knew this was part of the culture, but to hear it voiced in such a wonderfully positive way, made me realize that demanding chronometry in my life here in Panama, or trying to impose it on the lives of others who I come in contact with or need to work with will only lead me into further frustration.

Funny how happenstance can make such a large impact on one's sense of understanding of the world around him, right?

The Beauty of Hitting Rock Bottom

When I was a kid, my parents used to call me “Mugwump”, which inevitably morphed into “Mugmump” and got shortened to “Muggie” and “Mugs”. In fact, I didn’t know what my real name was until I was almost 4 years old. Anyway… My dad used to tell me that the name was a Native American word meaning “rebel”, and it fit my personality from Day 1. I’ve always been fiercely independent, testing the limits. But the difference between me and a true rebel is that I only resist out of stubbornness, not defy wholeheartedly. I’ve learned since then that the original meaning of “mugwump” is an Algonquin word meaning “war leader, chief, or important person”. And, believe me, I’ve been on the warpath lately. (By the way, mugwump later came to mean “fence-sitter” in the 1884 Presidential elections, and that definition, too, has had significance in my life in recent weeks.)

We have had problems with the apartment the entire time we have lived here. For 9 months now we have had a steady stream of workers coming in and out, almost on a daily basis from mid-September to May and a mere 1-2 times a week during the past 2 months. One handyman after another giving their opinions, giving assessments and quotes, fixing things that just break again, or they just never show up at all after I rearrange my day to make sure I’d be there to let them in. The waiting is killing me. I’ve been relegated to the simple role of sentinel – I guard the door and wait.

The problems have been endless: toilets that leak at the base, toilets that don’t flush, toilets that don’t stop running, pipes that aren’t connected to sinks, faucets that don’t work, crossed electrical wires that make ceiling fans in one room turn on while turning off the light in another and vice versa, the only electrical outlets in the room not working, A/C problems, a water heater that turns off when it feels like it – 4 or so times a day, and a leak from who-knows-where that streams down the wall, causing paint to peel off and ponds to form at its base …and last but not least, marble floors and shower walls that have exploded creating valleys and mountains and making for hazardous walking and precarious bathing conditions.

And, let’s not overlook the months that it took to get the contractually agreed upon security doors, alarm system, and curtains installed – all of which were supposed to be completed prior to our arrival. No, no, the owner didn’t do the negotiating, the hunt for the most reasonable prices, get a minimum of 3 quotes, or determine which workers would complete the work (a big problem here – work left undone). No, he didn’t have to wait for an alarm system to be installed, only to have to have it reinstalled because it was put in improperly. He didn’t have his belongings broken in the process. He didn’t have to schedule, reschedule, and re-reschedule an appointment with the people who installed the security doors because the handle was too loose to use. Not too secure, huh? Oh, and by the way, I’m still waiting for the owner to find someone to remove the former doors and window pane that still sit in our entry way. He won't let us do it because they have to be placed i his storage room. Yes, it’s been wearisome.

So we have had our parade of 8 plumbers, 7 marble workers, 5 electricians, 4 security door installers, 3 alarm system installers, and … I feel like I should be singing “The 12 Days of Christmas”, the handyman version. Many of these gentlemen (if I can use that term lightly) I have seen more than once, some as many as 7 times. God love them, I just really wish to never see any of them again.

And, in the midst of all this chaos has been Jose Amet. My husband has affectionately, though sarcastically, started calling him my best friend, since I see him more than anyone else here (at times, even more than my husband). Jose Amet is the intermediary between the owner, the handymen, and me. He’s a wonderful man with a good sense of humor with no power to make decisions, but he does a fabulous job of making sure the river of workers never runneth dry. (If the apartment owner ever reads this blog, I’d like him to know that Jose Amet works his tail off.)

Net, I feel like I’ve had to fight tooth and nail to get anything done. Letters, and calls, and more letters, and text messages, and more calls, and more letters. I tried to explain to my husband how useless, helpless, and unappreciated I have felt during this whole process. If my job is to run the household, then I have been a complete and utter failure. No one seems to care if they are making me wait, if they are wasting my time. I have come to realize that being a woman makes my opinions and my voice soft, useless. The cooing and consoling. The promises that work will be done. Oh, the many promises. It has consumed my time, and it has consumed me.

So, here I am, sitting on a fence between frustration and despair. (The 1884 definition of my nickname) American women never truly understand how good they have it until the balance of power is wiped away from them. I’m a married woman. My husband’s voice is the only one that really matters here. I finally had to break down and ask for help. Please call. Please send an email. Wouldn’t you know it – what took me 8 months to accomplish, he was able to achieve in 15 minutes. A more rapid response, I’ve never seen. And, to prove my point, the email he sent was written by yours truly.

When we decided to move here, I thought this would be a wonderful opportunity to reinvent myself, create a new identity. I thought it would be fun. Little did I know that my change in roles would mean feeling less important, feeling a loss in status, and produce such a lack of confidence.

Having to spend so much time in the apartment, waiting for people to show, meant that I was (and still am) missing out on networking opportunities, kindling friendships, and familiarizing myself with other aspects of life in Panama. Mental stimulation was limited to debating with a plumber who believed WD-40 could solve all our toilet problems. (Please, do you have some duct tape to go with that???) I started to feel alone, very, very alone. My independence had been compromised. I felt as if I no longer had control of the situation or my own life. The apartment ruled my every thought. I had become disconnected from everything that made me happy. And, for the first time in my life, I didn’t know how to create my own happiness.

My husband, not understanding the undercurrents of the situation, as I had not explained my feelings to him, also did not understand why the only topic I ever talked about was the apartment. The apartment had become my prison, not my refuge. All of this produced a deep sense of displacement and anxiety. I hit rock bottom.

But the beauty of hitting rock bottom is that the only place you can go is up.

I spoke to my husband about my feelings, something I had not done because I didn’t want to burden him. He already has so much to deal with, a high-stress job that requires frequent international travel. But, sharing my frustrations allowed me to clear my mind and air out my soul.

The very next day, my motivation returned. I have decided to withhold payment of our rent until we have tangible results. I have contacted a lawyer. And, I have started reestablishing my relationships.

Indeed, I am reinventing myself here in Panama. You see, there is always an opportunity for growth.

Mugwump is back!

Customer Service – The Conversation

(The original conversation took place in Spanish.)

- I’d like to return this item.
- You want to return this?
- Yes, please.
- You’d like to return this?
- Yes.
- For credit.
- No, could you please put t back on my credit card?
- You can’t.
- What do you mean?
- You can’t return it.
- Yesterday before I purchased it, I asked if it was returnable because I wasn’t sure if it would go with what I thought it would. And, I was told I could.
- When did you buy it?
- Yesterday.
- That’s the problem.
- What's the problem?
- You bought it yesterday. If you wanted to return it, you needed to return it yesterday.
- But, yesterday, the girl told me that I could return it as long as I had the receipt.
- Yes, but that was yesterday.
- Right here (pointing to a sign at the register), it says I have 15 days to return an item.
- Yes, you do but for store credit.
- It doesn’t say that here nor does it anywhere in the store. In addition, the clerk didn’t tell me yesterday when I asked about returns.
- She should have known better. It’s always been that way.
- But this is my first time buying something here. How was I to know?
- That's the way it's always been. If I give you your money back, it will mess up my balance. We can only cut you a check and they will take a while because we have to send the request to the main office.
- I’m asking you to place it on my credit card. I’m not asking for cash or a check.
- That’s the only way. Or, you can have store credit.

My failed attempt to reason with the store manager at Estampa today.

Flooding Fiasco

In the area where we live, there is a tendency toward flooding during the rainy season. The sewer/ drainage system has been blocked for quite a while now creating massive ponds that rise up to most car doors when the rain is exceptionally heavy. (Good reason to have an SUV, however small). Apparently, the homeowner associations within the area have been involved in a dispute with the local government as to how to solve the problem. Finally, after numerous calls, followups, meetings, and several rainy seasons, the first step to "unplug" the drainage system was completed this past week. We received an email to confirm this.

The email read like this - and I quote (translate) - "It is my pleasure to announce that the first drain was unplugged Wednesday morning releasing into the sea great quantities of garbage, sewage, and other offensive matter...(the company responsible) will continue dredging and drainage work. We will have to wait until the next rainfall to see the results."

Is it just me, or does it sound awkward to say that it is one's pleasure to announce that sewage and other waste is being released into the sea?... in great quantities, nonetheless... At this, I can only sigh.

Panamanian Women Don't Sweat

Seriously, Panamanian women do not sweat. They don't perspire. Their makeup doesn't run down their faces when they step out into the the 90+ degree heat. Their hair doesn't look like a scouring pad in this 99% humidity the moment they get out of the car. They simply "glow". They wear long pants and long-sleeved shirts. They can even get away with the layered look if they'd like. I don't get it. Is there a particular gene that I'm lacking?

Me, on the other hand, ever since I've been here, I've said that if you want twice the body and three times the curl in your hair, come to Panama. Sweat? I wear shorts and a tank top, put my hair up in a pony tail (2 out of 3 are fashion no-nos, by the way), and still, one step out the door, and I look like a just got out of a pool and had my hair blown dry to resemble Bozo the Clown. By the way, did I mention I normally have naturally straight hair? Now, I've been told that there are hair straightening treatments, which I would never have dreamed I needed when living in the States. Ok, I may look into that. But, other than having a talk with the Big Guy Upstairs and asking Him to lower the temps and humidity a bit, any suggestions on how to get "the glow"?

Well, it's time to walk the dog - make up free (check), pony tail (check), shorts (check), antiperspirant (check). Honestly, who cares? I'll just take a shower when I get back.

Rainy Season, Dog Walking and Jhonny Andres, the Peruvian sandwich vendor

I was taking our little wiener dog for a walk this morning. Walking may not be the appropriate word here. It's more like dragging him through the streets with all the force I could muster. (Quite a scene when you consider I'm fighting with a 16 lb. dog in front of 3000 construction workers. Always good for a dose of entertainment.) Since rainy season has started, it's a daily battle getting our little guy out and about. He hates getting wet, and with his undercarriage so low to the ground, it's inevitable this time of year. He returns home covered in mud and gunk, only to have be showered to get all that grime off of him. Vicious, torturous cycle for the little guy, don't you think? And, frankly, I hate to tell him this, but he's got another 7 months to go before we are in the clear, literally. This year with La Nina we are told to expect drenching rains/ thunderstorms at least 5 out of every 7 days through October. They can sugarcoat it and call lit "green season" all they want, but it's still rain. I have to admit though, the grass is greener, the waves higher, and the air cleaner. There are some advantages, I guess.

Ok, so what does walking our mini-dachshund have to do with Jhonny Andres the sandwich vendor? We pass him every day as we walk, or in recent days - attempt to walk - to the park to meet up with all of our other doggie friends. Jhonny is a kind soul. No matter what, he has a smile on his face and an inspiring word to say. Not once in the last 7 months since we started to exchange pleasantries have I seen him down or unsettled. Grant it, I see him for 5 minutes a day, but it's enough to know that he's a gentle person. Today was different - (not for our dog who was still urging me to go home after only walking a block) - but for Jhonny. The twinkle wasn't there, nor the smile. Made me worry. And, where I normally would have rushed by explaining that my baby wanted to head home, I couldn't today. Just down the street, a police officer was handing out tickets to all of the ambulatory vendors. That wasn't bothering him. He would pay it and continue with is day. He was feeling just fine, not ill. But, then, he mentioned that he wouldn't be coming in the afternoons anymore. It seems that construction is slowing down, a rumored halt on one of the buildings, and he just couldn't afford to stick around in the afternoons. The only response I could come up with was, "Then what use is walking the dog if I have no one to stop and talk to?" I got a little smile, though I know it was only temporary.

Admittedly, a part of me was overjoyed by the possibility that construction was slowing. I'm so tired of the noise and the commotion, but that's just my own selfishness. We're talking about a man's livelihood here. I guess I will continue to see Jhonny in the mornings as I drag my mini-hotdog out, but those afternoon walks will leave me wondering where Jhonny is and how he's doing. Has he found a new corner on some other block to sell his sandwiches? How's his family? How will they make ends meet if he only works mornings?

In the end, he will be another to add to the list of vendors who have disappeared - like the cousins from Pereira, Colombia whom I haven't seen in over a month. And, I'm sure, every day as I go out on my walks, I will wonder where they are and how they are doing and how their families are and if, perhaps, they have made it back to their respective homelands. Unfortunately, once they are gone, I will never know.

Things I Miss - and Don't

I miss my family, friends, having a dishwasher, a garbage disposal, a decent doggie daycare for our little guy, our running group, and I miss being able to hear birds chirp instead of the banging of jack hammers. I miss the 4 seasons. I miss being able to understand everything (or almost everything) someone says to me. I miss TJMaxx, DSW, Home Goods, and Costco (though my husband is probably glad they don't exist here). I miss a good postal system.

I don't miss sub-zero temperatures or taking care of the lawn/garden.

I enjoy that each day allows me to reflect on what is around me, to appreciate all that I have and don't have, to understand what is important to me, and to grow with each new experience.

What they don't tell you

As an expat spouse, they don’t tell you that even though you knew your spouse would be traveling half the time, the other half, you won’t see each other much either. There's a lot of "alone" time. A lot of time to "figure it all out". And by all - I mean exactly that.

You may not realize it but you are responsible for figuring out the system by yourself, trying to communicate without offending. You are, after all, the ambassador of your country to this new location. Being from the US, that is always a bit tricky. Most countries and their people have a love/hate relationship with us, so first impressions are important. You deal with the people arriving 2 days late for an appointment, or not showing at all. You deal with the miscommunications because the Spanish you thought you knew isn't the same as it is here - I asked for a pen not a nail file, thanks - yes, I know nail files aren't allowed in the airport. You deal with the trying to find places, which in a city the size of Panama, shouldn't be too taxing, but ask someone for directions, and you will get, something like this - we are located just before where the old flower shop used to be before they tore it down. (Thank goodness for growing up in the country where, to get to my house, you had to turn right where Blakely's used to be and again where the oak tree used to be in the fork in the road, or driving night have been just impossible.) Ask for a street address, you say? Forget, GPS, my techno-saavy friends! Yeah, right, you know, I don't even know what street I live on. I live across from X, just down the road from Y before you get to Z. Oh, yeah, postal service? Good luck with that one, too. The only mail I receive is the electric bill because it is hand delivered to our building. They will find you if they want you. :) But, in a weird sort of way, it all works. You just need to take time to figure it out... I'm still trying.

Another thing they don’t tell you that trying to make creating a social life will be one of the hardest jobs you will have. If you have ever moved from one city to another within the same state or country, you can imagine what I mean. But, in other countries things don't always work the way you think they should. You know, sign up for an art class, make new friends; sign up for a cooking class, make new friends; sign up for ... you get the idea... But, Panama, ummm ... trying to find the classes is the tough part. I just had a newbie say to me a few days ago – I know there are lots of things to do here, but how do you find out what they are and where to go? Truth is, there is tons of stuff in Panama, but the most common way to find out isn’t the web, it’s word of mouth. If you don’t have friends, you don’t have information. Even if you do have friends, if they don’t have a foot in somewhere, they won’t know either. So, you join organizations, like “Who’s New”, which meets the first Tuesday of every month at the Sanborne's cafeteria in Multiplaza. And even through most of the women in this club are over the age of 60, they still have things in common with you – they are expats or transplants, too. And, more importantly, they have a foot in somewhere. And, there, hidden in the nooks and crannies of third- hand information, you find that the city opens up, one acquaintance at a time.

Of course, if organizations don't exist or you can't find them either because you haven't found that one friend who knows someone who knows someone who knows about a place you could go to meet new people, you can do what I’ve done and initiate a girl’s night out. Our group started off as 6 of us who met in the park, walking our dogs - ah, something in common already. Now there are about 20 who come from time to time. We all just need a place where we can feel “normal”, a place where we aren’t running into walls or struggling with the adaptation process, just hanging out and enjoying. And, enjoy, we do!

The Stages of Culture Shock and Grief: Similarities

Over the past few weeks I have been struggling with the idea of culture shock. No, I’ve been struggling with culture shock. Although I have moved several times within my own country – which, due to its vastness, has cultural differences of its own - and lived abroad before, I am not immune to culture shock. Culture shock is similar to the flu in that you must be inoculated, build up immunity, or you are apt to get sick. In the case of culture shock, it’s called homesickness. However, this is only one of the stages one goes through when living in another country.

In many ways, culture shock is analogous to the grief of losing a baby (or other loved one) as both create waves of emotions that one can not truly understand until after looking back on them. The stages through which a person must travel are very comparable: the honeymoon, confusion, anger and depression, negotiation, and empowerment.

I remember when I first found out that I was pregnant. I was awash with all sorts of emotion, but mostly, I was thrilled - bursting with excitement – that I had two little lives growing inside of me. The thought of twins filled me with pure joy. Okay, I was also a little nauseous, but the joys overrode the queasiness and occasional feelings of anxiety. It was much the same when I found out we would be moving to Panama. Panama enchanted me at first. Everything was new and exciting: the world seemed to open up with so many possibilities. There were so many new places to see. I drove around without a care. I didn’t care if I got lost because there was always something new to encounter. Others complained about the traffic. I didn’t even notice it. Other expats and “transplants” complained about the people. As far as I could see, everyone around me was smiling. Maybe that was because I was smiling, too. And, of course, there was the ocean view from our apartment. I didn’t care that I didn’t have my own furniture yet. I had an ocean view. Yes, it was definitely a honeymoon period in both cases, pure joy.

But, after the honeymoon, there is a return to reality. During the second month of pregnancy, one twin gave up, but we were still blessed with the other, who grew steadily and kicked vigorously…especially between the hours of 11 p.m. and 3 a.m. Blessed? Really? I had lost one of the little lives inside of me. Confusion set in. Questions surfaced. Why was this happening to me? What had I done wrong? I became tired from the lack of sleep.. I just became plain tired. Much in this same way, within the first few months in Panama, I started to realize that it wasn’t the paradise that I thought it was. Why did a simple chore like going to the bank have to be so difficult? Why didn’t people show up on time or at all for appointments? Why was it so hard to get someone to understand me, and why couldn't I understand them even though I had some knowledge of Spanish? Why did I feel like a fish out of water if I breathed air like all other humans. Was I really that different? Both situations were distressing.

Nearing my 6th month of pregnancy, I started showing signs of preeclampsia and found myself in the hospital in a life or death situation. The only “cure” for my disease was to give birth. To give birth would endanger my baby’s life, but not giving birth would kill both of us. Some choice, huh? My body was rejecting my baby. My body was betraying me. It didn’t matter how well I had been taking care of myself. I ate well, rested when I could, stopped all those bad little habits, and followed the doctor’s orders to a T. Despite all of that, I lost my baby boy. I was overwhelmed by sadness. I was angry with myself. I felt helpless for not being able to prevent my own son’s death. Because of the disease and slow recovery, I also had very little energy. Net, I was depressed even if I didn’t want to admit it. Now, here I am in my 8th month living in Panama, sure enough, feelings of anger and despair have reared their ugly heads. I’m trying to do everything I can to create a new home for my husband and myself. Just like in my pregnancy, I think I am doing everything right, but I still encounter failure, brick walls. I have started to develop new friendships. I go out. I integrate. I have found activities to occupy my time. Yet, I still feel lost, overwhelmed. I really just want to stay inside. The traffic bothers me. I wish people here would smile more. I wish it wasn’t so freaking hot. Like anyone has control over the weather, right? There is a part of me that wants to detach myself from everything that is Panama. In a nutshell, I am rejecting the culture. I want things from home, everything from home – my family, my friends, the language, the order, the food, the air – everything.

The truth is, I feel like I am losing myself. However, losing part of oneself when it means gaining new understanding about who one can become really isn’t all that bad. Knowing that these brick walls are meant to teach me new lessons helps keep things in perspective. I may not fully understand life in Panama yet, just like I didn’t understand why I had to lose my babies, but one learns there is always a lesson. This is negotiation, stage 4 in both culture shock and grieving. One struggles to find meaning in everything that has happened. In the case of culture, differences and similarities are accepted. In the case of death, there is the search for a message to help push forward.

After having lost a child, returning to a “normal” life is never easy. But, eventually, one crawls out of the darkness and explores new options. New plans begin to form. In one respect, new life begins to form. In my case, the new plan involved moving to Panama. I moved on figuratively and literally. I have yet to arrive to the stage of acceptance and empowerment in my rollercoaster ride through culture shock. But, the nice thing is that I know there will come a day when living in Panama will feel “normal” and all those wonderfully positive feelings I had about this country when I first arrived will fill me again. Because, truth be told, it is a wonderful country.

Mimosas, Manicures, and Maids

When most people think about expat life, they picture wealthy women dripping with jewelry sitting around sipping exotic drinks and nibbling on sweets while getting pedicures for $3.00 and all the while their homes are being cleaned and cared for by a team of maids, nannies, and gardeners. I’ve heard that you know you’ve adapted to expat life when you no longer feel bad about paying someone $20/day to clean or have accepted a live-in maid. Man, wouldn’t that be nice!

I have to admit that my own expectations were a little higher than reality. For starters, moving to a “developing country” one expects that everything will be inexpensive compared to one’s home country. With everything being inexpensive, getting help in the house seems logical and could free up some time for other activities that one couldn’t necessarily afford to do as frequently in one’s home country. However, to not complicate the topic, I will concentrate on maids for now. Price shock is another tale.

In Latin America, having a maid is supposedly one of the perks of life. It’s one of the selling points to expat spouses – you’ll have someone to take care of your home so you can get out and do other things.

I was excited about this possibility when we first arrived. Wow! How nice to have someone come in several times a week to do all the undesirable chores – cleaning the bathrooms, mopping the floors, washing dishes (no automatic dishwasher here). We tried it for a while, but I found that having a maid actually consumed more time than it freed up for me.

One Latin American couple told me that maids are a “necessary evil”. You can’t live without them because, after all, how are you supposed to clean and cook for yourselves? This is the mentality, or maybe even the engrained belief, of many from this region of the world. That’s one of the differences with the way I and many others in the U.S. were raised. We learned to make our beds, collect and take out the trash, wash dishes and laundry, set the table, dust, vacuum, iron, mow the lawn, and basically, clean up after ourselves. This was a normal part of life. Our parents were preparing us how to live independently.

For me, this independence continues to be important. From the time we got our maid, I tried to get involved in various activities – either teaching or taking classes. However, I had to schedule everything around her coming and going. The definition of time is so different here, that you can’t expect someone to be “on time”, not even the maid. Waiting for the maid to arrive when I could have been heading to the gym, or waiting until the maid left so I could lock up and go to the grocery store bothered me. Trying to teach or take a class in the apartment felt too disruptive. (A little aside but something necessary to understand is that until you know you can trust your maid, you need to be present, so you can make sure things are being done correctly, nothing is missing, and you can lock up. Hate that feeling of not being able to trust.)

And, then there’s the idea of a full-time maid so that one doesn’t have these problems. I can see the advantages of a full-time maid – she would sleep here, could stay with the dog while we are on vacation, but it would be one more mouth to feed. She would be, in essence, a child to take care of. And, there’s the issue of privacy. How weird to have someone in your home, who is neither family nor someone you can treat as a friend, but an employee at all times. How uncomfortable to relegate another person to the room off the kitchen and attached to the laundry room. Sorry, no window with direct sunlight. And, please, don’t come out of your room after 8 p.m., so we can have our privacy. Just feels odd.

Anyway, long story short, I let our maid go – found her a new place to work because I really liked her and she did do a good job – but I did it because I needed to free up my time, to be able to come and go as I pleased in my own home.

Oh, the places you’ll go

We have only scratched the surface when it comes to getting to know this country. You’d think, with a country only the size of South Carolina that we would run out of options. Not so.

The reality is, we haven’t even gone much more than 2 hours in any one direction from Panama City, and yet, in that short distance, we have visited mountains, islands, beaches with both volcanic black and sugar white sands, lakes, rivers, tropical forests, historic ruins, one of the most important canals in the world, indigenous tribal territory, and a multitude of wildlife. Seriously, most of this is just a day-trip from the city.

Day-trip Suggestions –

Beaches:
Playa Blanca and Santa Clara, both of which are no more than 2 hours from the city, are probably the best known and most visited of the beaches on the Pacific side of the isthmus. They are beautiful, expansive, almost white sand beaches. Some of the newer, upscale resorts can be found here – the Bristol Buenaventura, Breezes, and Playa Blanca. If going to Playa Blanca, go to Woody’s – a Canadian bar - that sets on the beach. It’s the perfect place to take in the splendorous sunset and have a beer. Ask to see the friendly little nocturnal monkey. Oh, and you can also visit the second largest pool in the world! This is definitely a favorite of the kids.

For a more authentic experience without needing to travel so far, head over the Bridge of the Americas toward Vera Cruz. Not 30 minutes from Panama City is an excellent beach bar/ restaurant called Kalimar. Don’t expect fancy, just your basic wooden structure with a thatched roof with a fantastic view of the beach as well as Taboga Island in the distance. At high tide, the water comes within 2 meters of the place, practically lapping at your feet. Local beers are a buck. I suggest Balboa. Coronas, just $2. (at last visit, that is). Fresh shrimp, sea bass, and shellfish can all be had for a fraction of what it costs in the city.

If you want a little more of an adventure, you can go to the San Blas Archipelago - the Kuna Yala autonomous province – located on the Caribbean coast. San Blas is a string of almost 380 islands, with only about 50 that are inhabited. Pristine waters and palm tree lined beaches are what you will encounter, along with a glimpse at the native culture. Though the trip can be done in a day, most people opt to stay overnight due to the scarcity of reliable transportation. Getting there can be a 20 – minute flight from Panama City and then a boat rental to your island of choice, or you can take the scenic route. I suggest the latter if you have a 4x4 and are traveling during dry season. Half of the fun is the trip there!

Drive east on the Panamerican highway until it seems to disappear, turn left at the bus stop (there is no sign so if you miss it you may end up in the Darien Jungle – a completely different adventure I’m sure), climb the Cordillera Central until the temperature drops about 15 degrees Fahrenheit, look at breathtaking views of the verdant mountains, continue on until the pavement runs out, slide around a little, pay the Kuna Yala toll (tolls are charged per vehicle and per person – be prepared!), start the descent, cross the river that covers the “highway” or is actually part of the highway, and finally drive onto the airstrip, pay another toll (same rule applies), and park your vehicle next to the Caribbean’s sandy shores. From here, take a motorboat for about 30 – 45 minutes to a remote island, for which you pay - you got it - per person. We went to Isla Perro, where there is a sunken ship, perfect for snorkeling. A walk around the island takes about 3 minutes. Don’t forget to take your cooler and a bag to carry off your own trash, as conditions and facilities are rustic and rudimentary. Soak up the sun, fill your lungs with the saltwater air, contemplate the unspoiled views, and relax. Ahhhh…

To come - mountains, historic sights, and nature

Construction Workers

Staring, whistling, and cat calls – mi amor, mi reina, mi vida, mami, hola lady, uuuuiiiiii, quiero casarme contigo (today’s selection as I walked back home during change of shifts) - are global signatures of construction workers. This is no different in Panama.

However, I think Panamanian men may be a little more creative than others. Two specific stories come to mind:

The other day, I had one guy literally stop, wipe off the slide walk with his foot (it may have made a bigger impact had he been on hands and knees, but I’ll take what I can get), and then declare, “Let the queen pass!” The always considerate and gracious “queen” passed, thanking her subject. ☺

For at least the first 4-5 months we were here, one particular worker greeted me daily with a friendly “hello” and then after months of pleasantries, he asked me when I’d place him on a leash and take him for a walk as I do my dog. I have found the answer isn’t “tomorrow” because he asked again the next day, and the day after that. Then, when he asked if I were married, the answer “yes” apparently gave him permission to ask me out for coffee. Oops, how did that happen? What didn’t he understand? No, no, you don’t understand, I’m “happily married”. Ahhhh… Being “happily” married means you are off the market. I haven’t seen him since.

Oh, one last thing, I wonder what kind of comments I would get if I had makeup on, had my hair done, and were wearing something other than gym clothes. Hmmmm...

Make-shift kiosks

We just received a note from our building administrator that the mayor's office and police are going to "eliminate" the kiosks on the street. There goes half of my daily social interaction!

Rules

I'm taking a day off from my "Unfounded Fears" Series, as I would like to take some time to read more about Panamanian history to better understand where I live. I am moving on to "Rules".

Actually, there is only one rule that I can figure out thus far - "rules are just suggestions". Just like English grammar, there are always exceptions. So, expect exceptions as the rule. :) It really does make life fun and people much more creative.

Unfounded Fears? Xenophobia and Immigration (Part II)

Panama is a mix, a beautiful combination of people – European, Antillean, Indigenous, Chinese, Indian, and so forth. Most of my personal interactions with Panamanians have been quite positive. In general, I find Panamanians to be cordial and open.

But, you see, generalizations can be both constructive and detrimental.

A few days ago, I received a letter from our Apartment Building Administration. The note itself was harmless enough. We were informed of some increased criminal activity (robberies) in the area and that the building security guards along with residents of the building need to take extra precautions.

But, then I scanned down the page and noticed two attached notes. The first read – “Don’t trust anyone. I don’t have anything against foreigners, but keep in mind there have been cases where Colombians or Venezuelans have come to this country to commit crimes…” Talk about getting sick to my stomach. I have nothing against foreigners? Really? Hmmm…

The next attached email went on to describe how a gang of Colombians was robbing and tying up about every well-to-do person in the City of Panama (ok, a bit of an exaggeration on my part, but there were 4 people mentioned). Apparently, the robbers don’t know the value of a Coach purse, though, because s/he only took the Louis Vuitton and Carolina Herrera ones and left the Coach purses. (The unfortunate soul doesn’t know good leather when s/he sees it!)

Did you note how Colombians were mentioned twice in the emails – once by both authors? This gets me. How do they know for sure that the robbers are Colombian? Could this be a way to foster fear and perhaps initiate both urban legend and a bit of xenophobia? My husband is Colombian. He’s a wonderful, intelligent, hard-working, caring man. He is, in fact, representative of the vast majority of Colombians.

Frequently, I am asked how I learned so much Spanish and so quickly. (We’ve only been in Panama a few months, and quite frankly, most Panamanians are amazed to find out I’m a “gringa” – first because of my physical features and second, because I speak a fair amount of Spanish with a minimal accent. – sorry for the digression) I state that I’ve learned most of my Spanish with my husband’s family. And, I add – he’s Colombian – in order to clarify why I speak Spanish with my husband’s family. Unfortunately, as soon as I tell someone here that my husband is Colombian, there is a marked difference in the way interactions go. They become dismissive, curt. Honestly, it’s a conversation stopper… which kind of sucks because I really do want to practice my Spanish.

Generalizations – amazing how a few bad apples can ruin the bunch.

Unfounded Fears? Xenophobia and Immigration (Part I)

The other day in the park, a Panamanian lady started yelling - no, it was screaming and cursing - at the top of her lungs at another woman. At first, we thought it was because the one lady’s dog had tried to hump the other lady’s dog, or perhaps that it was simply because the lady's dog was off his leash – like everyone else’s. She was screaming at her, saying things like “learn how to keep your dog on a leash, learn to control your dog, tie it up”, and then it turned into something else. It turned, for lack of a better word – ugly. She told the lady, whose dog tried to hump hers, “to go home, learn some good manners and teach them to her dog, too.” Go home, she repeated, back where you belong. Get out of Panama. We don’t want you here. Go back to your country. Go back to your uneducated ways. The other lady responded – what did I do? She was obviously from Eastern Europen origins, or at least, her accent would indicate it to be so. But, her Spanish was perfect. The thing is this supposed foreigner, the one whowho should head back home with her ill-mannered dog, is actually a naturalized citizen in Panama. Her home is Panama and has been for over 20 years. Her husband and daughter are Panamanian. In fact, I would venture to say that she is probably more Panamanian than anything she will ever be, but still, because of her accent, because she looks a little different, she was singled out at a park and yelled at for something that so many dogs do.

Prejudices and Xenophobia are not new, but for a country and a people who pride themselves on being a melting pot (much as the US does), fear and rejection are beginning to rear their ugly head.

More thoughts to come…

Check Writing

Two different people with two different handwriting styles may write on the same check as long as they use the same pen or color. One person, obviously with a singular handwriting style, using two different pens or colors of ink – even if the first pen has run out of ink - must start over and write a new check.

My Daily Interactions (the walk to the park):

Say hello to the administrator and the security guards upon exiting our building. Greet the “paisa” empanada vendor from Pereira who is waiting for his wife to arrive in a few months from Colombia and who doesn’t believe in bull fighting or any other mistreatment of animals. He’s glad Colombia is thinking about outlawing “corrida de toros”. He likes Guinness, our miniature dachshund. Walk past the construction workers who are waiting for part-time work on the Trump tower that is going up across the street. Daniel, who should have been a lawyer because of his facility with the Spanish language and charismatic nature, greets me in English. That’s all the English he knows, but he’s not shy about using it. Pass the first of the make -shift kiosks that block the sidewalk and force me to use the street. Come to the end of the first block, say hello to the Peruvian man selling lottery tickets, ham and cheese sandwiches and empanadas out of the back of his van. (We won’t talk about health concerns.) He’s been away from his extended family and home country for 18 years now. He has offered to let his wife cook for me some time and to give me information on Peru in case we’d like to travel there. He’d like to know why I will take the time to talk to people on the street – am I part Latina? No, 100% “gringa” from a small town where people (at least used to) smile and stop their cars in the road to have conversations with neighbors or friends. I haven’t lived there full-time in 22 years. Things change. Keep walking. Pass the man who doles out kool-aid, or the like, for a minimal fee. Wave and say good morning. A construction worker tells me that I have a beautiful “smell”. I know he means “smile”, but I think it’s cute and don’t correct him. Besides, it’s hard to always “smell” good here with 90 - degree temps and 80% humidity. So, I like his compliment. It makes my “smile” even bigger, so I say thank you and have a good day. He tells me at least once a week. Pass the next set of kiosks. Say hello to the lady who arrives at 5 a.m. to start preparations for the sell of breakfast to the workers and who doesn’t go home until after 7 p.m. This probably means she wakes up around 3 a.m. and gets home around 9 p.m. and probably has to take care of her own once she gets there. But, she still smiles and waves and says good morning. She cooks all day long in one of these little makeshift kiosks in the heat, using propane tanks and a pirated water supply to sell food to the construction workers. I like her and admire her work ethic. Keep walking. Greet the next set of security guards. If they see me before I see them, they knock on the window of the little guard booth and wave. Guinness stops to smell the flowers about now, so I always have time to wave back and say good morning. Only about 1/2 a mile more to go. Turn the corner, walk up the street pass the hustle and bustle and horns that blare non-stop. Turn the next corner, and walk up the incline. Say hello to the guard and the guy who is sweeping the driveway of the apartment building. Keep going. Next is the Union Club. The guards are always very amiable. On the “International Day of the Woman”, which I don’t even think we celebrate in the U.S., one of the guards told me to have an extra-special day. Very kind. The gardener is also cordial – always time to smile. Half a block more. We’re there, and now I can say hello to the Brits, and Venezuelans, and Germans, and Argentineans, and Americans, and the Colombians, and the occasional Panamanian who all bring there dogs or kids to what we have affectionately named “the dog park”, since the dogs can run off their leashes and the children stay in the fenced in area.

Walk back and do it all again in the evening. My daily social interaction.

Construction

Location, location, location! While most of the world is going through an economic crisis, Panama is in its heyday.

New construction is going up everywhere – and I mean everywhere - in every little parcel of land possible. Buildings are in inches from one another. There’s not even enough space for an alley, unless you are one of the many stray cats wandering around eating the morsels of meat that still stick to bones that have been thrown to the ground by construction workers having finished their lunches.

We live in a building that is surrounded by construction. Across the street from us, approximately 3000 workers - along with cement mixers, 18-wheelers, dump trucks, etc. - come to work daily on one of the most extravagant of the new buildings in the Panama City area.

It’s both entertainment and a headache. I’m fascinated by how quickly buildings are sprouting up. When we first arrived in our apartment 7 months ago, we could still see the water and the sky from our kitchen window. Now, we see neither… just workers like bees or ants. Up and down the elevators and stairs. And the noise. The commotion. Horns and jackhammers and welding and you name it. It’s noisy. Rivers of construction workers - especially at 7 a.m., 12 noon, 3 p.m., and 5 p.m. Working errands around these times in order to avoid getting stuck in the flood of people as they come and go, walking directly in the middle of the street (because the sidewalks are not usable), has become one of my personal games.

Construction. This city is growing so quickly, perhaps too quickly.