Bienvenida a Panama

Sunday, July 22^nd

Oh boy. Today it begins – the true adventure.

I get up at four to make sure I have everything together, and by 4:30, I am waiting for mis padres. They are so kind and offer to drive me to Jackie’s house so I don’t have to drag my bags all the way there.

And it is from here until I meet Beth that I succeed in making everyone I meet angry with me. I can’t find Jackie’s house, so we have to drive back to my house to get her number (# 1 – mis padres). Then I call her only to wake her mother up (#2) and hear Jackie telling me that she has been waiting behind the gate (#3). The exchange finally takes place, and I send Jackie with some money to give Sara should my bag be overweight. I am anxious, but I hope everything works out. By the time I meet Beth at the Mas X Menos, I am a nervous wreck. But as I say goodbye to mis padres, I relax. They are very sweet people, and I’m going to miss them.

We find a taxi without much trouble, and within the hour we are safely sitting in the bus, awaiting our trip to Sixaola. High five. The bus ride passes well enough: I decide to destroy my “bufanda” when I realize that somehow in the process I have added another fifteen loops. So instead I start another headband. I take a break halfway through and try to type, but there is no room. But I do finish my headband... sorta. I kinda forgot to ask Hannah how to end a piece. So... yeah. I’m gonna have to look that up.

And then we get to Sixaola. Oh, the stress. We are accosted by children wanting to “help” with our bags when we get off the bus; passport stamp out of CR; passport stamp into Panama; “¡No necesito ayudar!”; pay the visa; drag way too heavy bag across border; try to find a decent taxi. I’m overwhelmed. If not for the help of two friendly locals and a wise young Argentinean (though not narcoleptic), I’m not sure Beth and I would have made it through. But we do, and soon enough we are boarding a ferry from Changinola to Bocas del Toro (a nice trip I’m sure, except I drifted in and out through it). The little village is nice and unassuming, if not completely touristy. I’m not sure if we see more natives or gringos, but I’m not worried. This place seems nice. Or it would... if I wasn’t lugging around a big piece of luggage (even my small bag is vexing me now).

Beth and I don’t have reservations, so we just walk to a hostel she read about in her book – but they are full. They recommend their other hostel, but Beth doesn’t want to go there. However, after dragging our bags halfway across town again, my complaining breaks her down and we just decide on the nearest place we can find. So, it is the Hospidaje Maritza for us. The little motel is nice, but the room won’t be ready until 4:30. So we leave our luggage with her (it is safe, I promise) and head out to explore the town.

We get some lunch at a little cafe across from the town park and walk down to the pier to watch the ocean. It truly is beautiful here, and now that we are unencumbered by our bags, we can enjoy it. We talk for a bit and enjoy the atmosphere, making our plans for the morrow. We’d like to go to the beach but have no idea where one may be. So for now we go to the grocery store to pick up the staples (PB&J and cheese crackers and agua) before returning to the Hospidaje. Beth decides to catch a few winks, so I take my book up to the deck to read. When I’m pretty sure the sun is getting ready to go down, I wake Beth, and we decide to try and find a beach. We walk and walk, and though we never come across a beach, we do see a cemetery that abuts the water. The ocean has done its damage here: many of the above ground graves have been eroded and eaten away, and a pile of old crosses adorns newly formed trash heaps. It is at once both dismaying and beautiful. Beth and I take it in and watch the sun begin its descent, but this part of town isn’t the best, so we start back before the dark becomes too strong.

But we do come up with a plan for our stay: we will find a beach tomorrow, no matter what. And then Tuesday we’ll do a boat tour. That sounds good.

So tonight? Well, how about some drinks? We head to a place called Sand and Surf (original no?) and I order La Iguana (an interesting fruity concoction to my pleasure) while Beth gets a Long Island Iced Tea. And we didn’t eat dinner. But still... another drink later, we decide to retire to the room for the night – we’re really not fiesteras.

The last thing on our little agenda is to shower. Afterwards, I wash some clothes and lay them out to dry. Refreshed and relaxed, I have to say, I am happy to be in Panama. Asi, ¡hasta pronto!