Big City Life

Our mode of transportation across the country was a Toyota Yaris & it seemed to be the only type of rental car in Panama- it's popularity alone giving us good reason to feel like proud gringo road trippers. The first leg of the 12+ hour journey took our Yaris through shanty towns full of friendly waving locals, inexplicably gorgeous rolling green hills, jaw-dropping thick cloud forests, past waterfalls, around endless sharp curves, up & over hill after hill, & eventually to the mountain town of Boquete. We tracked down stubbornly hidden natural hot springs & (after the paying admission to the oddest of owners, surrounded by his crew of turkeys) we hot tub hopped through the five of them, daydreaming out loud about how great it would be to transport just one of them back home. The town itself was quiet, had great coffee, & kindly surprised us with an impressive fireworks display as we wandered through it's empty night streets.


The next day we drove through David & onto the Panamerican Highway which we rode straight into Panama City. First stop- the Panama Canal. I'd gone a little overboard scouring through my lonely planet guide the night before, & we were all pumped to watch as 52 million gallons of fresh water was dumped into the ocean as the giant locks opened wide & let the massive awaiting cargo & cruise ships slip through. The history of Panama, especially it's history in relation to us Americanas, is entirely tied up & focused around the canal, & it was great to see it close up in all its grandeur.

We head back into the city, found a Cuban bar that put all their effort & personality into making us perfect mojitos, had a long dinner at an outside cafe in a church-filled plaza with gorgeous old buildings looming over us & kittens rolling around at our feet, played a little pool, & head back to our hostel where we discovered their movie theatre- a big room with a projector & three levels of, I guess, massive stairs wrapped in padding & purple satin that plays only the best American movies nightly.

Thursday the boys dropped me to savor a taste of the modern world at the Multicentro mall en route to the airport where they took off back to the states. Leaving me alone- in a hostel overflowing with westerners that is.

I´ve been staying at Luna´s Castle which is located right along the water on a peninsula with this perfect view of the city from the second floor balcony. All the buildings lining the narrow brick streets of Casco Viejo are equipped with balconies- even those no longer consisting of any house beyond their often beautiful front wall. Considering that the first established area of Panama City was burned straight to the ground (by none other than Captain Morgan himself- I was secretly tempted to visit the ruins just to take a picture in the captain morgan pose, but thought just maybe they'd find that offensive), Casco Viejo is the oldest standing part of the city. In the process of being gentrified, the old & the new mingle down every street inside the peninsula- many dilapidated buildings don banners with a picture depicting the utter potential that the property holds, & I´ve got to admit it´s a great strategy. It wasn't long until I was imagining myself leaning back in a chair, looking out into the sky with my feet resting on the balcony of my beautifully restored home in antique Panama City.

Walking up Central Ave. through the rest of the city, as I did daily, each step brings you closer to the modern world. Dotted along the pedestrian streets, open-front stores blast latino music, carts sell everything from shave ice to hot dogs, & tables peddle plastic accessories, headphones, & fake leather belts. The parks overflow with locals lining every inch of sit-able space, talking & interacting in an oddly small town way. I indulged myself daily in two of my favorite travel routines- cruising through foreign supermarkets & perusing down alleys of shaded markets. Those stemming off of Central Ave. were mostly selling food, the vegetable stands hanging glorious bunches of aloe plants that almost made me wish I were sunburnt.

The infamous city buses- diablos rojos (red devils)

25 cents & so confusing you never entirely know where you'll end up

Central Ave.

I took a diablo rojo to the massive new bus station/mall on my final day to purchase a ticket that will take me 16 hours overnight back across the border into Costa Rica to meet Elise!

chau Panama

Embracing Change

My last weekend in Bocas flew by. Saturday I met up with some friends at the chili cook-off then hopped a water taxi with Mara & Justin to Bastimentos where I happily third wheeled through a playful little town located along a single stretch of sidewalk that wove its way along the edge of the island, which seemed to be legitimately run by the children who "BEEP BEEP"ed you out of the way of their tricycles. We hiked along hot well-worn forest paths to Wizard Beach and lounged on the yellow sands in between cautiously dipping into the water just out of reach of the barreling wave tubes that make this the surfing spot around Bocas.

uno..dos..tres!

The rest of our day was spent trying to follow seemingly purposely confusing signs to a Mexican restaurant that's known for it's sunset views. After trekking through damp rainforest paths that led to nowhere with a variety of companions from locals to fellow tourists, pacing back & forth down Old Bank's long stretch of sidewalk hoping the right direction might just come to us, & nearly giving up- we found Tacos by Face & put our feet up with the chipper little expat himself to talk cuisine as the sun went down and celebrate the fruits of our determination. It took us awhile in the pitch dark to find someone with a boat to take us back to Bocas, but followed rumors about a guy eating at a popular restaurant who had a boat, & sure enough he zipped us home under bright stars.

The next day I met my twosome again, along with one of the teachers from our school, & a few other familiar faces frm for a beach clean-up in honor of earth day. A decent sized group of us slipped into latex gloves, grabbed a trash & recyclable bag, & got to work undoing litter done. Some of the men pulled whole rusted roofs to the road & after only a couple hours of picking up an interesting assortment of trash we walked back along the path to the Smithsonion Institute admiring the now spotless stretch of Bocas.

Later, in a stroke of fate, I met Alex & Josh, two guys my age from Virginia, while collapsed on the couches at Gran Kahuna. They had a rental car & a Thursday deadline to make their way back to Panama City to fly home. I hesitantly accepted an offer to ride along- & then prepared to leave Bocas behind.

In an attempt to ease myself out of my attachment I tried to remind myself that this place is not perfect.

.The ex-pats who choose to defy reality & permanently park themselves here have to struggle with daily issues of water, electricity, & the massive task of fighting on the behalf of the environment in their increasingly tourist torn town. Who wants to live under the pressures of activism?

.& the chitras, god damn chitras. They're sand fleas & they love me. At the time the girls left me behind I looked like a had a mild case of chicken pox. Determined to stop itching I took the advice of the locals & bought myself coconut oil which I coat on daily. I do not feel safe unless I stink like a macaroon. I also have B vitamins, eat as much garlic as I can handle, vicks vaporub & tigerbalm, hydrocortisone, deet bug lotion... & I'm still itchy.

.Relying solely on water taxis is also equally awesome & nausiating. Many of the boats that transport me from my little island are little more than motorized canoes, some plastic buckets that feel strikingly similar to a jet ski. Ok, I love the water taxis. I love how sleepy the town is on Sundays, the children that gather at the end of the airport runway at sunset every night to race in the field, how it downpours in the middle of the night... everything. Tuesday morning I will meet the boys, boat over to the mainland, & get on the road towards Panama City.

Indulging my mom's curiosity about the flowers in Panama... just another reason

Bocas es Amor

La Vida Bocas

Alex & Ajax

my room

obsession.

Monday morning came, the girls set off to cross back into Costa Rica, I started my week at Spanish by the Sea & then moved my backpack over to Isla Carenero to nest myself into a private room at Casa de Alex (which is actually what I tell water taxi drivers to get dropped at the dock in front of the house). This bright beach bungalow sits right on a little stretch of palm tree swarmed sand, the waves lull me to sleep at night, the monkies & roosters chirp me awake in the morning, & when it rains I feel like my little room is floating in the middle of the Caribbean Sea. This place is heaven.

I've started to feel truly at home here in Bocas as I've transitioned into a week of leisurely routine. Bright & early every morning I hail a water taxi to the mainland, walk through a still sleepy town shooing ominous vultures gangs out of my way, swing by my favorite fruit stand right on the way to school, have a few hours of clases de español, & hang around the common area for awhile doing homework & chatting. There are four of us in my class- myself, a Dutch 4th grade teacher named Koos, a fellow 2007 Suffolk grad named Justin, & his girlfriend Mara who reminds me wonderfully of my girlfriends from home. We eased quickly into a helpful dynamic that has me excited to go to school each morning.

The rest of my routine typically includes parking myself at Gran Kahuna to make lunch & flashcards, a stop at the internet where I've been happy to spend time catching up with favorites this week- a luxury not usually afforded when on the move, an occassional intense yoga class with Mara (think headstands & stretching straps), & a run through the pharmacy & grocery stores for everything from snacks to toys before I head back home. Once here I tie up Ajax on the porch, open all the wooden windows, pump up the reggae, & revel in the good life. I lay out on the beach & at the end of the dock, snorkle through the shallow water, bob around on a pool float, read in the hammocks... regular everyday paradise stuff. If Alex is home he's in the garden- every moment of his spare daylit hours are spent with his hanging plants that surround the porch like jungle windchimes. Alex was quite obviously destined to own a hostel as I think his house might be more visited than Kahuna itself. Dinners are always a grand social event- Panamanian food, taco night, pasta when we're lazy (apparently that's a universal cop out), & I even spent one day making chili for a good 5 hours. My favorite visitors are Kleyton & Errol, two beyond endlessly happy rasta Panamanians who have lived in the tightly knit neighborhood of stilted huts that exists behind our house their whole lives. They´re cousins who, when really pushed to hysterical laughter, convert to speaking Gwari Gwari at which point I can only comprehend the breaks of foul language. Kleyton has 12 siblings & an arsenal of stories so funny he can barely ever tell them. We often end up rocking in hammocks, singing along to Reggaeton at the top of our lungs, waiting for coconuts to fall from the trees, & laughing ourselves to tears. When I call them out on their extreme happiness they just say, shaking their heads in agreement, ¨0h yea, you got to be happy.¨ Simple as that.

The community at school is also very inviting when I snap myself out of local mode. The teachers are all young, & there's a big group of students that live right on site- many of them Dutch. It's easy to get all wrapped up with them in conversations about travel & aah my beloved Amsterdam. Last night we had an extremely well stocked & creative BBQ at the school before heading into town to a hookah bar & for a little dancing.

My favorite part of the night was still the ride under the big night sky back home...