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.