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.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
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!
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!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
