May 16, 2010 · 6:05 pm

The Face of a Mountain

To the north of the house in Potrerillos is the continental divide. Though I can’t see Panama’s tallest peak, Volcan Baru, that tops out at 11,398 feet from the back porch there is part of the cordillera that is spectacular enough. The house dog, Charlotte, started barking at ghosts as soon as it was light enough to see and I started to take pictures of the mountain as the day progressed. Clear at first as things warmed up clouds started forming changing the look of the face of the mountain. Now at 6:47 it’s too dark to take any more pictures but the clouds tower over the tree line in back and a black sliver of the mountain rises above that.

It rained for about three hours and when it was done I had to put on my blue jeans and a sweatshirt it had cooled down so much.

And, a cute young girl with her kids came to count us for the census. When it was over they gave each of us a pass so we could legally leave the house and they affixed this to the house to prove we’d been counted.

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May 15, 2010 · 12:43 pm

Moving Into The New House

The Wardlaws, the people I’m house sitting for, are leaving for the States on Monday in the early afternoon. I wasn’t planning on coming to the house until tomorrow but that’s the day Panama is conducting its census and NO ONE is allowed to be out and about until they have been counted and given a pass. No church services tomorrow. No stores open, no taxis or buses. Nothing.There will be road blocks throughout the country and you will be detained for a bit, to be counted one would assume, and fined. I heard someone say there was going to be one census taker for every 12 people in Panama. If that’s true why not take the easy way out, then? Count the number of census takers and multiply by 12.

Since nothing is going to be moving until around seven in the evening I decided to make my move this morning after checkout time at the hostel. I also needed to find out how transportation thing was going to work. For such a small country there’s a lot of “the middle of nowhere” here and the house is in one of those places. As I’m sitting here writing this my closest neighbor is up the hill behind the house a good 300 or 400 yards away. Between the two houses there is a big meadow with five trees and three horses.

The buses run travel the 30 kilometers (18 miles) between here and David quite frequently judging by the number of buses I saw on the road when I was driving here last week that had Potrerillos on their front window but I can’t say yet how often they go. When I got off the bus I asked when the last bus left David in the evening. I was told 6:30 p.m. which seems quite early to me. I’ll have to ask again. The trip from the main terminal in David was on a 24 passenger bus, took 50 minutes and cost ninety cents.

When I got back to David on Thursday after returning my rental car to Panama City to avoid a $180 drop off charge I asked the taxi driver how much the fare was from downtown David to Potrerillos and he said $15. Some people said the “gringo” price was around $25 so I guess it depends on how well you speak Spanish.  If the last bus out of David IS 6:30 I guess I’ll be either spending the money or save myself half that by spending the night in a dorm bed at the Bambu Hostel.

It’s the rainy season now and it’s three in the afternoon. Dark rain clouds are obscuring the mountains behind the house. A bit of a breeze has sprung up and it’s cool here compared to hot and sticky David 2,900 feet below.

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May 13, 2010 · 4:00 pm

Louisiana Oil Spill

Anyone who has been reading this blog for any length of time knows that I lived, loved and worked in Louisiana. Katrina pretty much put the greater New Orleans area, Orleans, Jefferson and St. Bernard Parishes on life support. To such an extent that I will never go back even to visit. It would break my heart. And now the oil disaster is sweeping though and area I know intimately, Breton and Chandeleur Sounds. I worked out there for almost two years running crew boats.

A reader of my blog, and the author of one of the most literate blogs I read, The Task At Hand, sent this to me today…

http://paulrademacher.com/oilspill/#

BTW—Did you hear that Sarah Palin is coming out with a new book? It’s going to be interactive, and if you buy it through the right-wing rag NewsMax you’ll get a complementary box of crayons to color it with.

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May 9, 2010 · 5:54 am

Señor Richard’s Excellent Adventure

The other day I met Jim “Jet” Nielson, holder of four world land speed records and getting ready to try for a fifth here in David on June 6th  hoping to set a fifth at 500 mph. I’ll be writing more about him in coming days. Jim is a longtime friend of my friend Frank Hilson who, himself, was an up and coming race car driver in the Sterling Moss era until a horrible, fiery crash ended his career. Frank was the one who pointed me in Jim’s direction.

Jim is also a sailor. He grew up in Hawaii and at the age of 19 was delivering boats that participated in the TransPac races back to the States. He said he had a trimaran in the Port of Pedrigal only a short drive from David. I was down there on my last trip and decided, yesterday, to go scope out Jim’s boat.

Before leaving the States I bought a chip for my GPS with Panama maps. For some reason it wouldn’t accept Pedregal as a destination. So I went to Google earth, got the Lat/Long coordinates and entered those and received routing. The instructions told me to go to the end of the street where the hostel is located and hang a left. It directed me through a few city streets and within 15 minutes I was at the marina. During the drive I spotted several decent looking restaurants and thought I’d go have supper there. Now, I love eating at the tiny restaurant across from the hostel but their menu is extremely limited. A whole fried fish ($5), a fillet of fish ($3), and the best sopa de mariscos (seafood soup) ($2.25) I’ve had in all of Panama to date. But my mouth was telling me it wanted to taste some shrimp that evening.

Dinner time arrived and when I turned on the GPS I went to the “coordinates” and hit “Go” without verifying them. I figured they had to be the same, right? Wrong.

When I got to the end off the street this time it told me to turn right instead of left. Okay, a different route. I drove and drove through city streets I’d never been on, but who knows, right? Wrong. No more street lights and the road narrows every kilometer. Eventually the pavement ends. Now I’m on a dirt road but the checkered flag indicating the destination is visible up in the upper left corner of the screen. The dirt road kept deteriorating with huge rocks and pot holes filled with rain water. Even a four wheel drive would have been going along at the five kilometer per hour pace. The map indicated that the road would be making a couple of switch backs on itself and then I came to a huge iron gate with a massive chain and padlock. Nothing to do but turn around and go back the way I came.

When I finally made it back to the paved road I pulled over, plugged in for the destination for the airport. The road to Pedregal is right along side the runway. In under five minutes I knew where I was. I stopped at the “Mar y Mariscos” (Sea and Seafood) restaurant where I had Camarones Criolla (Creole shrimp) which was delicious. The waiter gave me the 25% Jubilado discount without my asking for it, too. I love Panama.

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May 8, 2010 · 5:28 am

Spanish For Your Nanny

I am a strong believer in the notion that if you emigrate to another country you should learn the native tongue.

Living in south Florida it was not uncommon to be approached by someone who would say, “¿Habla usted español? This is what I would tell them:

“Si, pero no aqui. Es los estados unidos.. Hablamos ingles aqui.” (Yes, but not here. It’s the United States. We speak English here.)

The looks on their faces always made me regret not constantly carrying a camera everywhere I go,

I would sometimes continue with, “Cuando estoy en España, Mexico, Guatemala, yo hablo español, pero nunca aqui en mi país.” (When I’m in Spain, Mexico, Guatemala I speak Spanish, but never here in my country.)

Now, if you think that’s rude, you’re right, it is, but screw you. If those people can’t at LEAST learn the phrase, “Excuse me, do you speak Spanish?” in English they get what they deserve. That’s how I feel about it. And when I go to an ATM machine and it asks if I want to conduct my business in English or Spanish I want to put a brick through that little screen. I was never asked that question in France, Spain or any other country where the language isn’t English and it infuriates me that the U.S. bends over backwards to accommodate people who don’t learn English. As a country of immigrants the one cohesive bond of the polyglot is the English language.

When reading the Yahoo Groups about Panama, and I’m sure it’s the same for other countries as well, someone will, from time to time, post something like: “Is there a bar, etc. in (fill in the country) where I can meet other people who speak English?” My response, for which I take a lot of flack, is “if you want to sit around drinking beer with a bunch of people who speak English stay in the States.

WARNING: If four letter words offend you PLEASE don’t play this video.

My Spanish is FAR from being fluent. It’s beginning to approach being proficient, though and it will get better as the days and weeks go by.

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May 7, 2010 · 3:14 pm

A Trip To Boquete

When I first started mentioning that I was planning on retiring to Panama a lot of people said I would probably like Boquete since thee is a large contingent of English-speaking people who have settled in the area. I would tell them, as politely as possible that a bunch of gringos wasn’t a positive selling point for me. Another sales pitch is that at an elevation of 3,700 feet in the mountains to the north of David the weather is almost Spring-like the year around. It’s also a mini-business center for the residents of the mountains and one of the places where I would be able to pay my utility bills.

Well, today I decided to take my rental car and do some sight seeing and actually visit Boquete. You take the same road out of town as you do if you were going to where I’ll be living in Potrerillos. When you come to the town of Dolega the road vees off. To the left is Potrerillos and to the right is Bouquete. The mountain range is actually the continental divide and home of Volcan Baru, the highest point in Panama at 11,398 feet, and driving up there you get spectacular views of the mountain range with clouds obscuring the tops and descending into the valleys . Unfortunately the road doesn’t have shoulders so there’s no where to pull over to cop a couple of pictures.

When I finally got to the village itself and found a parking space at the central park I have to admit I wasn’t impressed with the place at all, and let me tell you while it was already hot and muggy down in David at 8:30 in the morning it was chilly up there. Like the first days of Spring after the Winter, not like the last days of Spring before Summer. I walked around a little bit, stopped at the Duran (Panama’s leading brand) coffee shop for a very nice cup of espresso. The Boquete area is Panama’s leading coffee growing district. I decided to drive a little further up into the hills beyond the town and a couple of miles up came to the Ruiz coffee plantation. From what I have read Ruiz gives tours and produced some of the finest coffee in the Republic. I stopped in and bought a large bag of espresso roast beans but haven’t tried it yet, and my grinder is at the house in Potrerillos.

Here are the photos for the day.

Volcan Baru and the village of Boquete from Wikipedia

The mountains around Boquete

The river that runs through Boquete

Last year the river flooded causing the banks to cave in and several homes, native places and expensive gringo McMansions were washed away. As you can see they’re working installing huge stones in an effort to forestall another disaster.

Another view of the mountains from Boquete

A field of yellow flowers outside a gringo ghetto development below Boquete

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May 7, 2010 · 2:24 pm

The Hostel Experience

Practically everyone I know would hate the hostels I stay at. Most of them are pretty much dumps but the thing that makes them enjoyable, besides the fact that they’re cheaper by at least half than hotels, is the variety of people who patronize them. They’re especially popular with the young back packer set, but others stay as well. In hotels you really don’t get the opportunity to meet and interact with the other guests the same way you do staying in a hostel.

Last night the crowd here in David threw a barbecue. When the fish monger (great word, monger) came to the restaurant across the street some of the guests here went over and bought four beautiful, corvinas (sea bass) for less than five dollars a piece. They also went out and bought steaks, chicken and corn on the cob and then cooked it on the huge grill near the swimming pool. It was a United Nations of hostel stayers ranging in age from their early 20s to myself in my late 60s with some 40s and 50s mixed in. There were people from the States, Poland, Austria, Australia, China, Panama, Argentina, Costa Rica and Slovenia.

One of the three Gringos was a Chinese guy from Toronto who lives and works in Springfield, Mass. He was riding his BICYCLE through Panama with a final destination of Texas. Robert is 41 years old and has cycled in a lot of countries, including Pakistan (which he said was the worst place) France, Spain and England. He’s cycled across Canada and the U.S. from coast to coast and his ultimate goal is to be able to say he’s biked around the world.

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May 6, 2010 · 3:20 pm

Visiting My New Home

I visited the house where I’ll be living for the next six months. It is seriously in the middle of nowhere, about a 30 minute drive from David up in the mountains. I started out from the hostel, and instead of being smart and turning around and going a couple of blocks to the Interamerican Highway I decided to go in a different direction that I had taken before when riding a bus into downtown David, figuring I could hang a left and getting onto the Interamerican. Well, it didn’t work that way. I got lost, of course, and ended up in downtown David in spite of myself. Trying to get out of there I hung a left turn into a one-way street. Since the Panamanians try to save money by not posting signs on their streets I didn’t know and naturally coming right at me was a police car.

The cops pulled up next to me and I rolled down the window and immediately played the gringo card. They said it’s a one way street and I said, “I know,” in English. I’m lost. Where is the Interamerican Highway? The sergeant who was driving started to tell me and then made motions that I should follow him. Actually I was quite a ways from the highway. When we got there he stopped and rolled down his window and I thanked him profusely and went on my way. I was lucky, because I WAS in the wrong and he COULD have been a dick about it, but he wasn’t.

The ride up into the hills was beautiful. Most of the houses were well kept and the scenery was extraordinary. Clouds hid the tops of many of the peaks and in places had dropped down into the valleys. Ascending you cross several small rivers with plenty of white water, but I’m not sure if they are used for sport though I did see some advertisements for white water rafting.

I met the people who own the house at the only restaurant in the area. A little roadside place with a half dozen outside  tables but under an extended roof so they would still be usable if it were raining. The lunch specials were a choice of chicken or beef with beans and rice and a “salad” which was actually a few strands of spaghetti with a light tomato sauce. The cost was $3 a plate.

We then went up to the house which was another three or four kilometers up the paved road and then turned off onto a small, muddy, rocky dirt road with a couple of native houses. You drive a few hundred yards through an orange grove with no clue that a house is anywhere around until you make a left turn and there it is. It’s about a year old. Three bedrooms, two baths with one of the bedrooms made into an office. The roof extends quite a way around all four sides of the house providing protection from both sun and rain and there are four hammocks in strategic places.

The views are really spectacular. Out the back and on the sides are views of the mountains and from the large windows in the office, kitchen and guest bedroom, where I will be staying, you can see the Pacific Ocean.

The owners are leaving a week from this coming Monday, the 17th. I stored two of my big bags there and will go back on the 16th to get final lists of people I need to know and wave goodbye to them the next morning. I don’t know how all this is going to work out without having a car, but the buses run on the nearby road quite often, at least during the day,  judging from the number of them I saw on my ride today. No pictures today, but they will be coming.

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May 6, 2010 · 6:22 am

Diagnosed

I was recently diagnosed as having ADOLAB…that’s Attention Deficit OHH LOOK A BUNNY!

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May 2, 2010 · 3:28 pm

Panama Takes Their Census Seriously

With all the Teabaggers and conservatives screaming bloody murder about the census in the U.S. people like Glenn Beck would  have a cerebral hemorrhage (oh wait, that wouldn’t damage a vital organ with Beck) if they tried to do in the States what they’re doing in Panama with its census.

On Sunday, May 16th, Panama is holding its census and everyone is REQUIRED to stay home starting at 7 a.m. until the census taker comes to your door and you fill out a 12-page form. That means EVERYBODY including tourists. When the form is completed you will be given a “pass” so you can leave. If you’re caught outside without the pass you’re subject to a  fine.

There’s not much to do even if you do leave the house since all stores and churches throughout the country will be closed.

Now, this means that I count as TWO PEOPLE. I filled out the census in the U.S. and now, since I am a resident of the Republic of Panama and moved down here last Thursday I’ll be counted here, too. Sort of like the old Chicago slogan of “vote early…vote often.”

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