The Last Report about Panamá

The Panama Canoe.

I guess after having been to so many tropical places, I am just spoiled. I was a bit underwhelmed with Panamá. After a week on its northern Caribbean coast, we were ready to move along to a new adventure. I traded in my Central America Lonely Planet Guide for a Panama Guide, and started looking for a new destination. There are several beautiful provinces in the country with plenty of unique scenery and cultural influences. It seemed that the more interesting options were over our budget, would take a lot of bus travel to get there, and would have been preferable to arrive with fresh immunization shots. I have no doubt that there are some fantastic getaways in Panamá, but they are mostly upscale resorts. Prices for tourists are very high in the entire country.

Prices for locals are also too high. Perhaps this has something to do with the high incidence of crime and random violence all over the country. The two worst places for violence are Colón, where Annie had her purse sliced off her in the middle of the day heading to market, and parts of Panamá City that are dangerously close to highly visited tourist areas. The gang presence is overwhelming. Even the little kids are trained to mug and rob strangers. On the road to Colón they loiter near dumpsters and wait for expats to bring their trash from the smaller ports up the coast, just for the purpose of robbing them. The day we went into Colón and took the trash with us, we had to pass several dumpsters before we found one with no street urchins.

The buses are entertaining works of art. Evidently they are all privately owned; the drivers inherit or buy into a bus and a route. Other than owning your own taxi, it may be the most lucrative of Panamanian jobs. This photo gives you an idea of the size of the AlBrook Bus Terminal. There were several giant parking areas full of buses. Each uniquely painted, air brushed, decked out and decaled. I am pretty certain that the drivers are all on suicide missions. Some of the bus rides are white knuckle experiences. E ticket rides.

This is the bus that flies up and down the north coast every day. Every time it passed we'd notice a new section of the art on its side. The bus often stopped in front of our guesthouse to pick up backpackers from the hostile hostel next door to Annie's.


Flashing lights, feathers, crystals, pom poms - this driver probably has a little religious shrine built in there too. He should, to repent for what he has painted in the back of the bus.

This was in the back of the bus inches from my face. The only seats for 'the likes of us' were always in the back of the bus, by the way. Strange art work for a public bus.

In a place where there is nothing going on day or night, we lucked out and happened to be there for the celebration Campesino Day. The school in the village of Puerto Lindo put on a show, the women prepared local food dishes and the men built palm frond stands for them before they set out to play a softball tournament. Annie is waiting for an order of octopus in achiote and coconut milk, accompanied by coconut rice, which was one of the better food options in Puerto Lindo. The food was surprisingly bland, and they don't use hot chiles there. Where do they get their vitamin C? I didn't see any fruits available or being consumed anywhere, other than bananas or coconuts. The bananas were the best I'd ever had, without doubt. Coconuts seem to be staples for all fish and rice dishes.


Beautiful little girls.

The Campesino Queen for 2009.

The Queen's Court enters while most of the village looks on.

While waiting forever for these photos to upload, it occurred to me....no one is smiling in any of these pictures. Even the adorable little queen had to force a smile, and she had agreed to let me photograph her. There was a heaviness in the air in the little village of Puerto Lindo, an oppressiveness that surrounded us. Well, that and the obvious abject poverty.....Some of the people talked with us while we drank a couple Panama beers. But there was something missing, maybe the feeling of welcomeness. I haven't pinpointed it yet. I always have to consider that people don't approve of us; so Pablo and I may have been sort of a freak show to the Puerto Lindeños. Another consideration is that Annie and her friend Sara are the only two expats who make any attempt to socialize with the local folks, so maybe all of us Caucasians are a bit of an intrusion. There are others around but they are locked up on their gorgeous yachts, or behind tall walls, down long driveways, with big signs advising everyone to stay away.

Annie is very helpful and friendly to the locals; as a nurse she even volunteers at the local medical clinic. Her friend Sara on the other hand is wasting away in Margaritaville. I found it difficult to deal with her beligerent drunken interrogations right in my face, her many large dogs scaring the shit out of me as they fought below my feet. Once I had to jump onto a church bench to avert disaster. In the early part of the day, I liked Sara. We played dominoes with her and her mom. We enjoyed her pet toucan and parrot who talked and sang all afternoon. I liked the Kuna Indian dog she was dog sitting, but the pit bulls or whatever the mean ones were, well they were just out of control. But it is hard to control a pack of wild dogs if you yourself are a wild drunk. I didn't want to badmouth anyone from this trip, but when we considered staying at Annie's house once she had to leave to meet up with a friend, the thought of dealing with a beligerent drunk every day, who made it clear from the beginning that she didn't like me or approve of us, helped to convinced me to pack my bags.

Pablo had his own set of reasons for wanting to leave. He overheard some conversation in Spanish and confirmed our unwelcome status. He's Mayan and Yucatecan, and he catches vibes pretty easily; sometimes they are just his imagination, and other times he is spot on. He also went there with an unreal vision, thinking there might be work there as a teacher or perhaps interest in seeking property around the area. He too was underwhelmed with the place. We have seen and heard howler monkeys and spider monkeys in Mexico. We can go to a real white sandy beach in an hour's drive from home. We can take boat rides throught the mangroves here; the coastline there was also comprised mostly of mangrove. So you see, someone who had never been to the tropics might find the experience magical. But for us it was more of what we are used to, but in a less amiable setting.

Althought I try not to, I find myself comparing it with other places, even my own house and comfort levels. Basically what I learned there was that I have no interest in owning property or living in Panamá. Mexico's laws might be crazy, but try a combination of US influence and the lacsidaisical Latino influence, and you get one mixed up crazy country. Everyone in search of the elusive but ever present Almighty Dollar.

Back to Puerto Lindo, the guys had fun at the softball tournament on Campesino Day.


This is Sammy, Sara's toucan. It was the first time I'd made friends with one, and the interactions were amazing.

Annie's guest house is a work in progress. She works for a few months in the States, and then spends three months in Panamá. On each trip she makes improvements to the house and property. In the third world it has sort of a three steps forward, two steps backward effect. She had the house and guest rooms all fixed up and ready to open for good on this trip. While she was gone Panamá was jolted by an earthquake and it broke the water pipe, possibly under the cement slab of the house. It isn't easy to find a plumber in the area, and of course by now Annie is planning her return trip to the US to earn the money to pay for the projects from this three month period. Panamá has strict rules about residency, you can't get it unless you are either retired with a pension or have a monthly income of an amount acceptable to the government. If I wanted to stay in Panama for a year I would have to prove I earned $10,000 US a month or something outrageous.

So, my conclusion, not necessarily of what is written above, is this: I believe Panama is beautiful country with a lot of well preserved and undeveloped areas. And I think there are some great resorts dotted around the country, but they are upscale and high priced. You have to pay a pretty penny to feel SAFE in Panama. I found Panama City to be surprisingly fun and interesting, and the north coast to be unfriendly and frankly, a little boring. The bottom line is that we all have a dream to fulfill. Annie's is to live in a tropical rainforest, near the Caribbean, where she can snorkel, fish, and kayak during her free time. And share her experiences with her guests. I imagine that she will eventually be able to outift her place with kayaks, a boat and realize her dreams, but I also think it will take the entire two years that remain before she can comfortably sit back on her porch, retired with pension, and wait for guests to flow through.

Why Panamá?

Sunrise in Puerto Lindo, Panamá


I am always on the lookout for ways to sustain my wanderlust. A few months back, I received an email from a lodge owner who found my ad on the ecotropical resort site, and we began to communicate. She owns a house with two guest rooms in Panamá, on the Caribbean Coast. Click for Panama Adventures. Annie bought her tropical getaway five years ago.

Her property is located in the Portobelo National EcoParque, where both rainforest and marine life are protected. Annie lives on the banks of a river and a short walk from the fishing village of Puerto Lindo, population 300. It is truly tropical rainforest with five species of monkeys, over 900 species of birds, including toucans, parrots, and quetzals. There is an interesting array of animal species due to Panamá´s unique location between North and South America. Its rich history is evidenced by the remains of forts and cannons, churches and cultural traditions. The coast from Portobelo to beyond Puerto Lindo is famous for its protected bays and inlets, used by boaters since pirate times. Some of the visible history dates to the early 1500's. Today the bays are dotted with pricey yachts flying flags of many countries. The area is a jumping off point for hitchhiking sailors bound for South America. Panamá's north coast is a beautiful and interesting little corner of the world, and although it has a long wet rainy season, it is not in hurricane alley.

Annie has been alternately working in the States and on her property every few months to reach her goal of opening a guest house and setting up snorkeling, kayaking and fishing excursions. She thought she was ready to open this year, on her autumn visit. We talked about me going to "resort sit", once she opened for business and then had to go back to her US job to earn more money for continued improvements. She would like to build palapas and acquire more water sports equipment. One of the tricks of operating a guest lodge in the tropics is that once you open those doors and take the first reservation, set up online services with tour operators, etc., those doors need to remain open. It's smart for Annie to line someone up to stay there, continue to check the bookings, and receive the guests who have made reservations for periods during her absence.

Pablo and I had an attack of wanderlust and had Panamá on the brain, since we didn't make it that far on our previous Central American excursion. It seemed like serendipity that Annie would contact me out of the blue. I wanted to go there on a scouting mission and meet Annie, see the area, and see if it would be feasible to plan for three month stays. She invited us to come as her guests and check it out. And so we did.

Just Another Day in Puerto Lindo

Rodolfo came for us at 10am. We grabbed our gear and walked down the road to the boat waiting for us at the beach. We motored across the bay into an extensive mangrove system. Rodolfo drove us through the “tunnel of love” where we saw white-faced monkeys (capuchin?) darting through the trees.

We saw egrets and herons and birds of all kinds and colors. The Panamanian Caribbean coast is dotted with lush, hilly, mostly uninhabited tropical islands and islandettes. We circled Linton Island, home of an abandoned research station, and were greeted at the dock by spider monkeys (cacique?).

We beached the boat on a deserted islet called Sodros to do some snorkeling. Rodolfo and Annie were hunting for lobsters, and Pablo and I were just looking around at the young, reasonably healthy coral reef and numerous but small fishes. We walked halfway around Sodros Island. I found an oar. Pablo found a turtle egg. Rodolfo found another egg. The oar came in handy to dig a hole in the sand and rebury the turtle eggs. There was evidence that some had hatched.

We headed over to another little beach and dropped anchor. After investigating more reef and fish, we combed the beach. We started collecting seashells and coconuts. We discovered an almond tree full of nuts and ate them on the spot. We gathered noni fruit to take to Sara’s toucan. Rodolfo picked ripe sea grapes for us to taste. Once we were sun-crisped, we headed back to the beach and the guest house. We grilled fresh spiny lobster tails on the patio while listening to howler monkeys, and watching parrots, toucans, hummingbirds and butterflies.

The jungle atmosphere intensified when the skies clouded up and the afternoon tropical rains came. I love the sound of a tin roof in the rain. We sat on the front porch until nightfall just passing time. We were all tired and crashed early. Just a typical day in Puerto Lindo.

Pitaya Flower Close Up

Two more pitaya flowers bloomed the night of the recent full moon. I took some photos at intervals as they opened up, over approximately three hours. The first picture I took just after dark when I noticed the blooms opening.

The flowers open up with the rising full moon.

By morning they are closing up again.

They are such intriguing flowers. They have a sea anemone in the middle!

The bees made the most of the limited treats.

It has been over a week since I took these photos, and both flowers have withered up and fallen to the ground. I have noticed a nasty vine wrapping itself around the pitaya plant on the other side of the wall, but without access to its base to remove the vine, I am afraid it might choke the plant. I just thought I would share these photos. I took the night shots, Pablo caught the early morning shots, complete with busy little bees.

Hammocks

I love hammocks and have a collection of them. Below is a woven cloth hammock from Brazil. The photo is from Kona. It is too hot here to use it until around December, but it is still part of my collection. From this angle you cannot see the beautiful embroidery work on the hammock itself. Our friend Bill brought it from Brazil for us in the 90's and it's seen a lot of use, but it is still strong.


A man named Saturnino in Akumal made the first hammock I acquired. I picked out the light and dark blues and stopped off to see its progress on the loom every day for weeks as I walked to my studio garage apartment from the dive shop. Below, Pablo shows it's still usable upstairs outside on the patio. I've been toting it around the globe for over 25 years. It has seen its better days, but it keeps hanging.



When I furnished this house I counted hammock hooks to buy hammocks accordingly. I found enough hooks to hang 25 hammocks, but I settled for ten.


I think the hammock is the most practical and versatile piece of furniture. We watch TV from our hammocks. I wrote this piece in the hammock. Pablo prefers to sleep in the hammock. We roll up our hammocks and can easily pitch camp between two coconut palms OR two monterrey pines!


My research on the history of the hammock produced weird results. First the NYT article puzzled me. Wikipedia said Philipinos invented hammocks, but there was no information to support that theory. Most reports state they originated 1000-3000 years ago in the Mayan world. They were found along their extensive trade routes in all of Mexico, Central and South America. One source reported Amazonian Aborigines (?) wove hammocks from the bark of the hamack, hamak, or amac tree. Thus, its name, the hammock or in Spanish hamaca.


I read that Columbus was credited with discovering the hammock, but all he did was take some back to Europe after seeing how comfortable the Bahamians, or per another source Dominican Republicans, were lying around in them in the tropical heat. The sea faring men found them practical and they became the preferred bunks on many European ships. The ships used canvas hammocks, narrow, uncomfortable, and spaced only inches apart from one another.

Yucatecan hammocks are intricately woven, usually out of cotton, nylon, or a polyester combo. They're all the same length. It is the width and the weave that make the difference in quality. The more threads in the weave the better. A 'familial' (literally big enough for a family) size hammock or a 'matrimonial' (double) is more comfortable than a 'doble' (single) or 'individual'(just barely there). The trick in sleeping in one is to lie diagonally. The hammock supports the spine nicely if you manage to get yourself situated in there correctly. It takes some kicking and pushing and pulling for me to get it right, but I can get there. Pablo is a pro.


The other most comfortable sleeping position is crosswise, like this:

Russell concentrates on a creative moment sitting in the hammock. If I am going to sit in mine, I usually grab a couple of pillows to support my back, get my feet up, and put my work on my lap.

A hammock cools you off in the heat. Air can circulate through the weave. Add a few fans and you are in a pleasant comfort zone. A hammock keeps you up off the floor where humidity, mold and PESTS abound. The mosquitoes however use the hammock to their advantage. I believe they use the grid pattern to zero in on my most vulnerable parts!

In the cold you can wrap in a blanket and the hammock around you like a cocoon. If it's really cold you can have someone put hot coals underneath you which generate heat up through the cocoon. Try doing that with a bed.

Remember, 90% of all Yucatecans are conceived in, born in, spend most of their lives in, sleep in, and die in their hammocks. It's a fun statistic and often a conversation maker.

I like the hammock concept so much that I have other hammock furniture. Below is a hammock chair for the house. We used them outside for a year but had to have them restrung and the wood revarnished, so just a wise tip, keep them inside and they will last forever. This is a small chair, just my size.

Some of the kitties like hammocks, some don't. Moka and Mokito love them. The other cats don't feel secure in them at all. Kitten Mokito played a part in the destruction of the chair pictured above during the height of his kittenhood. He is sitting in one of the bigger models. The larger chairs are great for sunbathing or laying back. But they shouldn't LIVE out in the sun either. They are in for repair now. This repair wouldn't have been necessary if foresight was 20/20.

Don't think that I quit there! Below are two hammock stools. Mike picked up the one on the left in Tixcocob and I found the one with the folding backrest when I took the chairs to be repaired. These are great for indoor and outdoor use, but they live indoors.


There are hammocks for your personal items. These hammocks are not strangers to anyone in the boating community. Here they are easy to find and inexpensive. I like to use them in a variety of places.

Last but not least are the hanging hammock chairs. There are two outback on the patio behind the pool. You can stretch out and put your feet up, and I had a great photo showing exactly that, but it was accidentally deleted. If you had any idea how long it took me to work on this hammock article, you'd understand. I do own some regular furniture. There are a couple of beds, several tables and chairs, and accoutrements, but a visit to my house is definitely a trip to Hammockville.

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Cat Commando: Busmo & Weasel

Busmo is a gentle giant of a cat. He is like one of those big guys who look real tough but are all tenderness inside. He was the fastest cat to grow big, and the slowest one to grow up. I think he was confused, being half tabby and half Siamese. He doesn't look like any of his siblings, and he is twice their size.

He loves the other side, but I think he is more the explorer than the adventurer. He rarely brings home any creatures. He has a quiet squeaky voice that he doesn't often use. He is a lot like Buster, who he enjoys playing with. Buster is the only other cat his size!

In the heat of the summer he spends his afternoon sprawled out in the coolest location he can find. Sometimes he is out under the shaded roof of the pool. When I found him sleeping on the bed(below), I'd left a fan blasting and he seemed to make the most of that.

He is as laid back as he looks here.

Busmo enjoys playing in the garden but he stays pretty close to home most of the time.

Here is Weasel. He keeps the rest of the cats young with his youthful playfulness. He doesn't often meow, instead he communicates with a rolling gutteral sound that is very communicative. I swear I heard him roll a NO yesterday. You may remember Mokito made friends with him, but once he taught Mokito what he needed to know, Mokito dropped his friend Weasel. I guess he just didn't need him anymore. Weasel took up with Busmo and they remain best friends. Weasel doesn't mind it when Busmo plays a little rough, he just hops around and makes up new games for them. They are a riot to watch.

Friends who like to do everything together.

Cat Commando: Lorenza

Sweet Lorenza. She is tiny and delicate, quiet, shy and yet independent. She is the tiniest of the litter, and she has a different personality than the Siamese. Lorenza can usually be found sleeping in this corner (below) in the basket where she was born,

stretched out on the floor near her basket,


or on a cushioned seat next to me when I work at the computer. Lorenza isn't as demanding about her affection as the others. When she wants to be petted, she starts licking my hand. So she is more of a give and take cat than the Siamese. She loves junk food! Doritos, Chicharrones, Cheetos, Chips, Cookies! All of it! She hears one CRUNCH and she comes running. She enjoys her trips to the other side, and more often than not she returns with a lizard in her mouth, ready to play.

She has had a few medical problems, but she has taken the treatments and medications in stride. This is another NON-Siamese trait! Lorenza spends more time hanging out with Buster and Mokito than with these two, Moka and Sak Boox, the fearsome duo. What's with the stink-eye?

Cat Commando: Mokito

I have to open with this photo series. Mokito is the master of cuteness. He was sleeping in this box last night. Usually they play with the grocery boxes a few days before we recycle them. If you put empty boxes outside your gate, they are mysteriously recycled. This box was standing upright after the housecleaning the other day, but he made it comfortable for him.

He is so photogenic I can't stop clicking sometimes.

He was in a dead sleep in this weird contortion.

Who'd have taken Mokito for an addict and a killer? He is addicted to adventure and THE OTHER SIDE. He comes home to eat, sleep, and to receive his required petting. He's the bravest killer of the litter! Although the slowest kitten to learn to climb or hunt, he has improved drastically. Last week he brought us a big rat. He left the rat in HIS play corner. We noticed he was meowing more than usual but didn't realize he needed to present us with a gift. I'll be more attentive because a two day old rat...oh never mind, it is just plain gross. Two days after that he brought us a very unlucky bird. This time he left the gift in OUR play corner, the foot of the pool entrance.

He looks too sweet to be the tough cat in the hood.

This is his mug shot.


Like Buster, he has a savage appetite. If we don't make him a plate of our food, he harrasses us until he gets his way. He jumps onto the kitchen table prepeatedly. None of the other cats are so rude, except Moka who feels she has to inspect even the kitchen table, but she is usually not begging.

He hypnotizes me with those bright blue eyes and his little bandit mask and I end up opening a can of tuna for him, a staple he has decided must be in his daily diet. He's a brat, but it is impossible not to love him.