Adios, Panama…

by Philip Blumel

The project is over. Johnny and I fly home (that is, to Florida) tomorrow to be reunited with Julie, Georgia and Rosie who returned from Panama a few weeks ago.

What did I get out of this six-month residency here? I could say that it expanded my understanding of the world, opened my eyes to another culture and made me more appreciative and tolerant of others. That sounds nice, but I don’t know if it is true. It might be, but it sounds like poppycock.

Phil with Ruby, his Spanish tutor

I think it is far more likely that my children received such benefits. I hope that they learned enough language and also learned not to fear the world, so that they leave Panama with a broader education and are better equipped for life on Earth. Again, I really don’t know.

What I do know is that we visited many beautiful and interesting places, made new friends and crafted for a short time a fascinating and comfortable new life in a strange place. We were happy, built a new social network and had adventures as a family. That is certain.

With William Sun at Pavo

Here’s what else I know, speaking now only for myself. There are three very practical benefits I have gleaned from this six-month project:

I can speak Spanish. My Spanish is still not great. My progress has been less than what I had hoped, due to the fact that I did not achieve true immersion here. But I speak Spanish every day and there are no longer any situations I cannot handle in this language. This is a measurable improvement in my capabilities and comes with the satisfaction of achieving, more or less, a life-long goal.

I am healthier. I ate better here and I exercised every weekday, something I had never done before. In fact, I had never worked out in a gym before Jan. 6, 2013, the day after I arrived here.  I feel better all day long. Taking up exercise doesn’t require moving to Central America, but making a big change in my lifestyle like this was possible due to the changed mindset that came from purposely disordering my life.

I am free.  This was true already, but this project reminded me of this fact. Moving to Panama shattered my routines and provided me the space to choose new ones. Many of our friends and family tried to discourage us from making the leap, citing the risks and the listing for us the deficiencies of a place they had never been. It made us nervous about leaving our comfortable patterns of life. Sometimes it feels that we are bound by such things, when really everything we ever do is by choice.

Georgia in class at Colegio Anglo Mexicano

As a result, I feel more confident in making other big changes in my life should I choose, subject only to those constraints that I consciously accept, namely the desires and interests of my wife and children. They are free too. I hope that they know it.

Will we return to Panama? Yes. We don’t know when or why, but only that we will. After all, for 175 days, Panama was home.

(Photos from Phil’s iPhone)

What we HATE about Panama!

Readers of this blog know the Blumel family has been charmed by Panama and our six months here will certainly rank among our lives’ great adventures. We have recounted in our posts many of our favorite people, places and things. But recall we were not on vacation, we lived here. And there were a few standout day-to-day frustrations worth bitching about. So, to add some balance to our blog — or perhaps as some form of therapy — we offer our top three kvetches (in reverse order).

#3 PAYING BILLS AT THE BANK – This was Phil’s big one. Presumably because a physical mail system doesn’t really exist, bills are often paid at the bank. You bring a stack of cash and the account numbers of the vendors (which in our case included school, utilities, school bus and a few deposits for our weekend adventures) and – after waiting in line – the teller counts the cash and directs it to the specified accounts. As so many Panamanians do this the lines are long, particularly on Saturday morning when we want to skip town for adventure.

During the week, the streets are packed with cars (see complaint #1) and bank hours roughly match the hours of most workers. So, unless you have online banking, you must stop working in order to fight traffic to stand in line to pay a bill.  Not good.

#2 TRASH – For foreigners, this is quite striking when you first arrive and it is true the shock fades somewhat over time. But then you see a can or a sack of garbage being flung from a moving car window and the revulsion returns. Hey, there is garbage all over the place!

Some of this, particularly in the city, is a result of inadequate collection. The garbage sculptures grow, disappear and then return anew. But that is only half of it. There is a tolerance for littering that most North Americans and Europeans no longer know.

There is a growing consciousness about this and indeed in some parts of the country, such as Chiriqui, there seems to have already been a cultural shift. Change is coming elsewhere too. In the meantime, we’ll just complain about it if that’s OK with you.

#1 TRAFFIC – El tranque is our biggest complaint. Yes, it applies only to the city. Yes, it is only during weekdays during work hours. And yes, the worst of it is a temporary result of the citywide improvement of the infrastructure to deal with precisely this problem (such as the building the Metro subway). But that doesn’t mean it isn’t terrible!

Except when he is paying bills at the bank (see #3), Phil largely avoided this problem as he walks to work and otherwise drives only in evenings and weekends. But Julie often had to drive the kids to school when the bus didn’t show up – a not-too-infrequent occurrence – and drove Georgia to gymnastics practice at rush hour several days a week. While Julie suffered the direct blow, she made sure we felt her pain.

Yes, banks, garbage and traffic. We hate it!

Ah, that feels better.

(text, Phil; photos, Phil’s iPhone)

End of the road: The black sand beaches of Palmar

The last voyage of Panamablu was not on boats nor planes but on surfboards.

On Saturday afternoon, Johnny and Phil drove out to Palmar, a Pacific beach town known as one of the best surf spots in Panama. We spent what was left of the day swimming and fighting the surf on two black sand beaches on two sides of a point. On both sides, however, the waves were large and consistent and there were still a dozen or more boards on the sea.

This is an international destination, and many had come from the U.S. and other places outside of Panama. But there were locals too. Almost immediately upon arrival we ran into Rigo, a Pavo regular who had driven out to Palmar for a day of surfing. He was sitting on his board watching the other surfers a while before heading back to the city.

Flor, the proprietor of the Panama Surf School at Palmar, recommended heading out early the following morning and we took her advice. By early she meant 8 a.m., which didn’t seem that early after getting up at 4:45 p.m. the previous weekend to fish Lake Gatun at Arenosa. But the next morning we found that in this sleepy town no restaurants were open for breakfast before 8 a.m. and that when we first arrived we largely had the beach to ourselves.

After some initial instruction and critiques from Macca from the surf school, we practiced on our own for a time. As in Bocas, Johnny was enthusiastic and had some notable runs. But before lunch time, we were quite beat up by the increasingly large and quick-breaking waves, but mostly by the arrival of jellyfish which unconsciously tortured us with their long stringy tentacles. The creatures were clear and the water murky, so we never saw them. But you could see the red welts on Johnny’s fair-skinned arms and legs.

 After lunch we headed back to the city, with Johnny making plans to continue surfing back in the states. But he learned how to surf in Panama, one more of the legacies of our 175 days here.

Father’s Day weekend: Fishermen and fighters

“Pavo Real” means Peacock in Spanish.  It is appropriate then that Johnny and Phil spent Father’s Day fishing for Peacock Bass in Lake Gatun with friends from our favorite local haunt.

William and Greg Sun are Wednesday regulars at the Pavo Real on Via Argentina where Julie and Phil met them. On Sunday, they brought their father, Greg, to join Angel, Johnny and Phil for a 5:30 a.m. trip to Arenosa, a small town on the Western tip of Lake Gatun, about 45 miles from Panama City.

Lake Gatun is a giant manmade lake created as part of the building of the Panama Canal a century ago. The wooded valley was flooded by the damming of the Chagres River and for a while Lake Gatun was the largest artificial lake on Earth. Numerous stumps from old Mahogany trees still remain and maneuvering the 24-foot pontoon boat requires a good eye and considerable local knowledge. We rented the boat from expat American Dennis Melton who provided Armando, our captain, who knew the good fishing spots and successfully navigated the underwater hazards.

For a former valley, there is an enormous amount of fish here. We brought home about 30 but threw about half of our catches back. Johnny and Phil had fish for lunch and planned a fish dinner.  A fish breakfast is not out of the question.

All but one of our catches were the handsome peacock bass. Johnny gets credit for the exception, a tiger fish. We are told there are tilapia but didn’t run into any.

The previous night Johnny and Phil had dinner at Tasca Duran and met the owner, boxer Roberto Duran. Duran is considered by many who know about such things to be one of the greatest boxers of all time. He held world titles at four different weights: lightweight, welterweight, light middleweight and middleweight. His career record was 120 fights, 104 wins with 69 KOs.

Duran is also a local who lives in El Cangrejo. There is a statue of him on Via Argentina and, we’re told by local media, a Hollywood movie is coming out next year about him. Phil’s friend Bob Burg back in Florida – a boxer in his youth – is a fan and Bob’s father Sumner managed the 5^th Street Gym in Miami Beach, a storied place Duran remembered well.  After discussing these things, Duran let Johnny take a swing at him.

We have one weekend left in Panama.

Fear and Loathing in Panama City

The long weekend visit of Thomas Walls did not in any way resemble a Hunter S. Thompson travelogue, but this headline is applicable as everywhere Thomas D. Walls goes a cloud of quirky pop culture references follows. With his Lancelot Link and El Santo (Eschuche!) t-shirts to the ’60s Mexican garage rock and old Cuban instrumental jazz playing from his iPhone, Thomas imposed his multi-lingual weirdness on Panama for six days ending last evening.

He wasn’t alone. Tom traveled with his fellow Floridian (and former Gainesvillian) Renee Richmond in her first trip to the Isthmus. Tom, who works for Travelocity, had been here before in 2000.

The plan was to roughly follow the map drawn up by Julie when Carrie came to visit a few weeks ago with a trip to the city, the mountains and the sea. As luck and a couple sharp eyes would have it, the weekend turned out to be one of our most successful weekends for animal hunting yet.

Sightings included several Rufus mot-mot, a colorful long-tail bird with a distinctive call that we originally mistook for a monkey. And speaking of monkeys, our early morning Pipeline Road road adventure yielded a bunch of them. They were in an interactive mood, with an unusually social howler announcing his presence, posing for pictures and objecting to our departure. He was replaced by a gaggle of capuchin, one of which came down low in the trees and put on a macho dance for us to remind us that we are not the kings of this jungle.

In Valle Anton, we saw more Rufus mot-mot and a several large black-chested jays. Tom caught a toucan, but not on camera. Except at the Summit Animal Hospital and Zoo near Gamboa, we have not yet got good look at a toucan. Summit was enlightening, as we got to see numerous Panamanian animals that we would be unlikely to see in the wild such as oclelots, jaguars and other large cats. An anteater, too.

Both Johnny and Georgia had visited Summit on school field trips and Georgia returned particularly enthusiastic about the harpy eagle, Panama’s national bird, a large beautiful creature with a mop of feathers on its crown. Unfortunately, Summit’s harpy died just a few weeks ago.

Tom and Renee broke new ground hiking at the city’s Metropolitan Park, where they ran into five neques and a gato solo between the vistas of city and country. They also snapped photos of blue and yellow lizards and butterflies. Other birds sighted over the weekend included the great kiskadee, Passerini’s tanager, mangrove black hawk and roadside hawk. (Thanks, Renee.)

Rainy season had so far been very easy on us, as until Saturday morning we had not been rained out of any of our adventures. However, to Renee’s displeasure, we drove north to the Caribbean Coast at Portobello only to be rebuffed by rains and never made it out to the islands for snorkeling. We did however step out of the rain into the Church of San Felipe to see the famous Black Christ, to whom pilgrims visit on foot from throughout the region.

Fortunately, Sunday gave us sun and clear skies and we started the day at San Carlos. This beach is one of this first of those of the Central pacific beaches and sports black volcanic sand and surfers. With a surfing concession and regular breaks, It looks like the place for Johnny and Phil’s upcoming surf weekend.

In the city, Tom and Renee visited the Canal, the Amador Causeway and some of our favorite El Cangrejo haunts. On the night before Julie and Georgia’s departure to the States, we explored Casco Viejo with the kids, starting with the rooftop bar at Tantalo’s and finishing with tacos and Micheladas at the Mexican place.

Eating is not always easy with Tom. Renee has some dietary rules she imposes on herself, such as avoiding red meat. Fair enough. These were traditional and easy to work around.

But Tom is an aficionado of the paleo diet, an attempt to eat only foods that were or would have been eaten by paleolithic man. The idea is that our bodies have not evolved as speedily as our ability to artificially process food and hence the old ways (that is, before 10,000 BC) are still the best. Sometimes this is comical, but we all admitted the Caveman Caserole he made was quite tasty. Cavemen were apparently quite fond of cauliflower. However, Tom did give a nod to modernity at Pomodoro on his final night where he was spied nibbling on pasta with Renee, Angel, Johnny and Phil.

The climax of the trip was the futbol battle between Panama and Mexico that gripped the nation, emptying the streets of cars and filling its bars to capacity. Surrounding this competition to win a trip to the World Cup, which Panama has never done, there was much cheering, sighing, shouting, moaning and blowing of horns throughout El Cangrejo and the country. The final score: 0-0.

(Text, Phil; Photos, Tom Walls)

Panamablu ladies fly the coop

On the morning of June 7, all the women of the Panamablu household boarded an American Airlines jet and left the country.  The Panama project is over for Julie, Georgia and Rosie.

Their friends came out to say goodbye. Johanna Trejos and her daughter Mariana as well as Yaysha and Angel Calzadilla and their girls joined us for dinner and goodbyes at Toto’s on Via Argentina on Wednesday. Johanna was the receptionist at Angel and Phil’s office and later became a babysitter for our kids and one of our Panamanian — well, Columbian — friends.

Then Julie and Phil attended a late evening adios party at Pavo Real.  The whole Wednesday Pavo crew was there, including William and Greg Sun, Sergio, Thomas and BC. BC was his usual helpful self, reviewing international financial regulations including his favorite, the invaluable Regulation #1.

Julie was “done,” but nonetheless melancholy about leaving Panama and is already thinking about returning to visit our new friends and haunts. We do have a lot of Spirit frequent flier miles saved up…

Johnny and Phil will be in Panama until June 29. Stay tuned for more Panamablu.

Surfing with the dolphins in Bocas Town

With Julie and Georgia heading back to the states in a few days, we chose Bocas del Toro as the grand finale of our near-weekly family trips.  Many – from our surfer friend Chris Fleming in Florida to fellow Pavo-regular and Panamanian Greg Sun – have told us this is the place to go. It is.

Bocas is a beautiful place but as far as natural beauty goes we don’t believe there is anywhere in Panama, or perhaps anywhere else, that can match San Blas. Like San Blas, the Bocas are an archipelago of islands with nine major ones and hundreds of small ones. Unlike San Blas, it is much more than that.

We stayed on the big island, Isla Colon. This is a Key West-style town that is sleepy but stays up late partying anyway.  Its main drag is restaurants, hostels, hotels, dive shops, chinos, bars and – on a side street – one bank.  The avenue gets its feel from the older buildings in various states of repair with New Orleans-style French doors and curlicues and high windows. On the waterfront side of the street, the buildings extend out over the water on stilts. As an island with only recently paved streets, traffic is not a problem, or so one would think. At a bar Phil met a Englishman and seven-year vet of Bocas living, Nigel, who complained that paving the street was the town’s downfall.

Georgia disagrees. Here’s what she wrote about the highlights of Bocas:  “It was awesome living on an island where when you cross the street there is the ocean. What I thought was the best three things were surfing , seeing  dolphins in the wild and snorkeling at Starfish Beach beach were I found a shell that looked pink and yellow and polished.”

The surfing was everyone’s favorite.  Chapo at the La Buga surf school brought us out to surf Old Man’s, a reliable spot near Isla Bastimentos. The waves were regular and perfect size for surfers of meager experience. Chapo did a great job keeping us upright. Georgia and Johnny were fearless naturals and Johnny caught the most waves and is hooked. Phil and Johnny plan on surfing more Panamanian beaches before our time is up here.

Georgia’s dolphins  were found on our way out to West Zapatilla Key, where we went to   snorkel and swim.  At first they put on a show, leaping out of the water for us in arcs of increasing size as they become confident that we were friendlies — or maybe as they became confident we were watching. Before long they were playing in the wake of our boat as we traveled in circles.

There is more English spoken in the Bocas than anywhere we have been in Panama. At first we assumed this was a result of tourism, but this is only part of the story.  Much of the population here is black, descendants of Jamaican laborers and, earlier, slaves that spoke English, not Spanish. On top of this, the tangle of shallow water and islands made the Bocas a convenient hideout for English and Dutch pirates that tormented the Spanish.

There are a good number of indigenous people in the state of Bocas del Toro, which includes a large chunk of mainland as well as the archipelago. We met some in Bocas Town, but not many.  At their vendor booths Julie found additional specimens of indigenous jewelry for her growing collection.

Georgia’s  favorite shell was found on Starfish Beach. Phil and Georgia took a cab across Isla Colon to Dragon Beach and then walked the rest of the way to Starfish beach as it is not accessible by land-bound vehicles. Starfish beach is a point reaching out into the Caribbean that, for some reason, attracts big orange starfish. As we hunted for them to capture with Georgia’s underwater camera, we also found the point also attracts a lot of rays and crabs. Late in the day, there was no one else there.

The Bocas adventure was the furthest and costliest so far. For one thing, we flew instead of driving the 8-10 hours it otherwise would have taken. Bocas is located in the extreme northwest of Panama, along the border with Costa Rica.  For this reason, we left Rosie in our Panama City apartment, being cared for by our friend and babysitter Johanna Trejos.

Nonetheless, we didn’t finish exploring Bocas de Toro. We never made it to the mainland and many of the other celebrated islands and beaches.  We didn’t see any pumas or other large cats that are said to live there. We have unfinished work here. Who knows? One day we may be back.

Chagres: A day with the Embera

It was our second experience with the indigenous peoples of Panama, but it was no rerun. Last week in San Blas we met and shared some of the life of the Kuna. On Monday, we spent a day with the Embera who differ greatly in language, geography and lifestyle.

The Embera are originally from the Darien, the impenetrable mountainous jungles of eastern Panama. Today, there are a few western Embera towns, but these too are isolated and hence permit the Embera to largely preserve their traditional way of life.

Embera Puro is a town of 27 houses on stilts deep in the Chagres National Park jungle that is home for some 123 Embera. The only way to get there is by river, as there are no roads or cars. Nor electricity or plumbing. In fact, by city standards, there isn’t much of anything — including clothing.

We had to drive an hour or so north out of Panama City into the Colon province and into the park. At the edge of a lake, our guide Garceth Cunampio — a citified Embera who grew up in the Darien — took us in a motorized canoe an hour and a half up the river.  On the way we saw a large coiled snake and numerous birds such as the anhinga, swimming under water with their heads above.  A toucan flew by.

Upon arrival we were greeted at the water by locals, for the arrival of outsiders is an event and, indeed, a significant part of their livelihood.  We entered into the town square, which is primarily a cleared field for sport. Around it are the homes and a covered public area where the Embera hold events and peddle their handmade wares.

The Embera wear body stain from a local fruit as a sunscreen, insect repellent and for decorous purposes. The men wore loin cloths and perhaps bead belts across their chests. The women wore colorful skirts and jewelry – and nothing else.  This might have been a shock to 12-year-old Johnny but he played it cool.

Georgia was shy but before long she was playing tag with the Embera children.  For lunch, they fed us fried Tilapia, patacones and fresh fruit.  We cooled off in the river, which was at this bend very clear and even hinted at the turquoise of the Carribbean islands, such as at San Blas. We didn’t see any crocodiles all day.

After lunch we perused the handicrafts of the Embera and allowed the Embera to paint on tattoos which we are told will last a week or so. Julie poured over the wares of the Embera, which include the colorful skirts they wear, carved wood and dried cocobolo fruits, baskets and jewelry. We also were given a presentation in Ebera by the town’s leader which was translated for us by Garceth. Then, some traditional music and dancing.

Phil was briefed on the Embera beforehand by his Spanish teacher, Rubiela, whose parents are both Darien-born Embera. Ruby attends the University of Panama in the city and teaches part-time at the Spanish-Panama language school on Via Argentina in our neighborhood, El Cangrejo.

Most of the Embera spoke Spanish, as the government of Panama opened a school nearby and requires the children to attend, wearing clothes and speaking Spanish.  Then they run home, strip and speak Embera with their friends and families. A few attend schools further afield and come back with some English.

As everywhere we go, Rosie was a star and she played with the children in the square and also cooled off with us in the river.

On the way back, our canoe upset a cloud of anhingas that were resting on (and under) the river. As we approached they started getting restive and rose up, scampering across water in all directions to get out of our way but not very rapidly. Soon they surrounded us.

By the time we got back to the side of the lake where we parked, Georgia was slumped on the side of the boat with her head on her arms, asleep.

(Text, Philip; Photos, Julie)

Our 2005 Toyota Prado for sale, soon

The vehicle that criss-crossed this country with us must be, sadly, left here when we go. However, the silver lining is that it can be yours.

We bought the car at the end of 2012 from a Ch2m Hill engineer who was leaving the country after his work on the Panama Canal expansion project was complete. It was in good shape and still is. No problems except a loose air conditioning belt, which we replaced. This machine is ready for more Panamanian adventure.

It is a 2005 Toyota Prado, the standard luxury workhorse in this country. It has 121,000 kilometers on the odometer and we are asking for $15,000.  Make an offer. The car will be available after June 18. It is parked under cover in El Cangrejo. We leave the country on June 29.

Call, email or Skype IM to discuss further: 6528-3585, pblumel@bellsouth.net or philip.blumel. More info here. Se habla espanol, mas o menos.

Meandering down the road to nowhere

The population of Gamboa is quite high, although very few people live here. What keeps drawing us back are the critters.

Gamboa is a sleepy little town located on the sharp bend of the Chagres River into Lake Gatun, right alongside the Panama Canal just north of the midpoint between the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. An ancient single-lane iron and wood bridge is the only road access to the town. Once there you find your way to the obscure Pipeline Road, a trail leading a couple of miles into the Soberania National Park and then simply stops, whereas you have to retrace your steps to return to civilization. The trail is so named as it follows a World War II era pipeline into the jungle.

The park is a huge, undeveloped tract of dense rainforest and small hills not too far from Panama City. It is a noisy place around dawn with the squawks of birds and the roars of the howler monkeys emanating from all directions. Walk slow and trace the sounds and you are bound to find spider and howler monkeys as well as forest and wetland birds of all kinds — including toucans. Many claim Pipeline Road is the best birding spot in Panama and you are likely to see a couple of bird ethusiasts as you walk the trail. Not many, though. This is an unspoiled place.

We’ve seen iguana, cayman, red squirrel and agouti here. The agouti was a surprise as we didn’t recognize and had to look it up on the internet. But the marquee act are the monkeys. There are many kinds and we don’t know them well, but we can be sure of one: the howlers. There are a lot of them and they want you to know it. The roars of these animals makes Pipeline Road sound like the set of Jurassic Park. It is a bit spooky as the sun is just coming up. The howlers don’t feel the need to be seen, and indeed we haven’t seen many. They aren’t nearly as big as they advertise themselves to be.

The spider monkeys are less shy, swinging and leaping from branch to branch like monkeys should. Some days you see a lot (Julie caught about 30 on camera one fortunate morning) but we’ve also struck out , as when Carrie Colangelo came to visit. She was able to, however, enjoy the hidden chorus.

The birds also kick up quite a racket between howls and the trails reputation for birding finally inspired Julie and Phil to hire a guide and find out what we were seeing and hearing. Either way, if not for anything else, it is a beautiful and peaceful reprieve from the noise of the city. If you are not particularly interested in the birds and happen to not catch any monkeys, the walk alone, in the wilderness, offers some beautiful viewing.

Of the many memorable sights of Panama, we found that this one is among the closest for city dwellers but also the least appreciated as few locals we have talked to have been there. Maybe that is a good thing, as it would hardly benefit from crowds. We’ll be back.

DIRECTIONS (courtesy of Dan Meier): You can go via Omar Torillos Rd. past the Allbrook airport – just keep going past Miraflores and Pedro Miguel Locks, past the Centenario Bridge, and turn left a mile or so beyond the Sheraton golf resort towards the Summit Zoo (there  should be signs for Gamboa and the Summit area).  Go past the zoo and keep going for a few miles.  You’ll pass a prison on your left (wave to Manuel Noriega) and come to a one way bridge where you have to wait for a green light to cross – sometimes it takes a while.  Keep going straight once you cross the bridge – you’ll be driving through Gamboa (don’t blink, you’ll miss it) and along side the canal.  On the left, ou’ll see an enormous floating crane called Titan that was built by the nazis and taken as war booty by the US.  It’s used now to service the big gates at the locks. After a mile or two the road will come to a right bend that is gated (I think).  Bear left, more or less straight, onto a dirt road still paralleling the canal.  You’ll come to another right bend with a sign that says Sendero Oleoducto (pipeline road) and possibly  something about the Canopy Tower.  Drive on up that road.  There will be a fork with the canopy tower up the left fork.  We parked right there and walked up the right fork which is Pipeline rd.  Listen for the howler monkeys.”