The new Museum of Biodiversity, with Panama City in the background.
The fascinating Frank Gehry building is said to look like a giant bird from the air.
Last weekend we drove over to get a look at the Museum of Biodiversity, a colorful, multi-faceted jewel of a building by Frank Gehry, beckoning across the water since we arrived but to which we’d never yet figured out exactly how to drive. It’s perched on the Amador Causeway, a beautiful strip located at the Pacific entrance of the canal. They’ll rent you all kinds of wheeled contraptions for enjoying the scenery along the waterfront. It looks like there is a splendid museum for local crafts, designed in the style of the lovely old buildings of Casco Viejo, being built in the area as well.
The whole thing will be really swell, if it ever
gets finished. Getting things finished seems to be kind of a problem here
though.
For all the skyscrapers
going up, there may be an equal number that are stuck midway and going
nowhere at all. We walked past a site that we thought was active the other day
and noticed that all the materials on the site were actually covered with
vines. To be fair, that might have happened within the past week. If you fall
down in Panama, you’re likely to be covered with vines before someone can help
you up. If the ants haven’t carted you home first.
I believe the Biomuseo
is finally open, despite not being finished. It’s been on a rolling delay for
years. An article I read about it
described it like this: “…the architect has had to come to terms with the local
limitations and adjust expectations. And the effects of the tropical climate,
which would slow down even the most energetic worker, cannot be underestimated.
‘Panama has a different expectation of construction practices and procedures,’
acknowledges Gehry’s office. ‘This naturally leads to a slower cadence.’”
They do stuff their
own way down here. Plus, if you sit down, there’s the problem that things start growing on you.
I think that’s
basically what Gehry’s people were saying, although not expressly, don’t you?
But then that’s probably part of what makes Panama the place for a biodiversity
museum to begin with.
The country is home to
over 10,444 different plant species, 1200 of which are orchids. In addition,
there are 678 types of ferns and 1500 kinds of trees. There are also 255
species of mammals and 972 different indigenous birds. I wrote previously about
the remarkable and energetic growth of Panama City, but it turns out that
Mother Nature is also remarkably alive and kicking up a storm. The whole place
is bursting with itself. I’m in love.
We experienced a bit
of trouble getting stuff done just this week, however, when notices went up in
the building that the city had scheduled work on the main valve and we’d be
without water the next day from 8:00am to 7:00pm. We were urged to take
necessary steps to ensure that we would have adequate water for our needs, so
we did. We filled up all the glasses, because the only other container in the apartment was the blender which had already been called into use to hold a
bouquet of flowers on the table. We had some bottled water for drinking, but I
wanted to have a bit to at least wash my hands, even if I wasn’t going to be
able to flush the toilets.
Then we made sure we
were up and dressed with the dishes washed before the appointed time…and at
8:00 nothing happened. We had water all day long.
About 8:15 am the
internet went out for awhile, but then we never get an announcement about that,
it just happens. Ditto the electricity. The water flowed without a hitch. The only reason that worried me is that the
fact they didn’t show up to do the work doesn’t necessarily tell me they’re
never coming, it just tells me they haven’t come yet. One of these days, I’ll
surely get my hair full of shampoo 15 seconds before the city reports to turn
the water off for twelve hours. So for the time being, we have a lot of glasses
of water around.
That’s almost the kind
of Panamanian pragmatism that I’ve come to love and appreciate, however. The
motto seems to be, just do what you need to do.
You certainly see it in the
driving. There’s no road rage going on. A person merely assesses where they
need to go, and then takes the steps necessary to get there. Other drivers on
the road seem to respect the fact that the guy in the next car needed to turn
left despite being in the right lane, and they give a honk that is basically as menacing as a shrug and let him go. It’s quite refreshing.
Taxicabs don't have meters. You just tell them how much you want to pay, and they tell you whether or not they'll take you where you're going.
Taxicabs don't have meters. You just tell them how much you want to pay, and they tell you whether or not they'll take you where you're going.
They have figured out
that everyone needs health care, so they provide it. You can buy more expensive
insurance if you like, but if you don’t, you’ll have a basic plan.
Everyone
in the country gets 4 weeks of vacation. You don’t earn more, you just get 4
weeks allotted the first day you report for work. They seem to understand that a worker at McDonald’s needs a vacation as
much or more than the CEO does, so they make it happen.
Every worker in the country
gets paid once a month, but everyone also gets paid for 13 months. The 13th month’s
salary is divided into three equal payments that are given at different points during the year. These coincide with things like Carnival and Christmas – times
when they seem to understand that everyone could use a bonus. I think there’s
something to be said for that kind of thinking.
But for an American, Panamanian thinking does not necessarily come naturally.
Russ had been trying
to find a place to buy a tennis racquet for months. Every sporting goods store
we tried directed us to another store, but none of them seemed to carry
anything for tennis. Finally, he asked his instructor, who told him that we
would find them at La Nota and gave us directions. When we pulled up in front
of the store, we could see that there was a large treble clef on the sign. Also an advertisement for music lessons. That, in conjunction with the name of
the place, made me think we’d been sent on a wild goose chase yet again. And a
strange one.
When we got inside, we
found a beautiful music store, packed to the rafters with instruments of every
kind.
And yes, also tennis racquets and golf clubs and swimsuits. Next to a grand
piano, there was a punching bag. The saxophones were hung on a post they shared
with a kayak. It may be the oddest, most unexpected thing I’ve seen in Panama so
far. But as I’ve thought about it, I suppose sports and music are both hobbies. We like both things too. Makes perfect Panamanian sense.
And just like Frank
Gehry, it’s really good for me to be forced to come to terms with local limitations and
adjust my expectations. It also gives me a renewed appreciation of some of my significant personal limitations. I'm not a person who "just rolls" with any kind of ease at all. But the fact that I don’t yet know enough Spanish to order my meat
well done or my dressing on the side requires me to put away some of my
thousands of rules for daily living and just get along with whatever they bring
me. And I manage to survive, and even thrive. Which makes all the personal stretching feel worthwhile.
Panama is making even me grow.
Thanks, Panama. I’ll
miss you, but please leave the light (well, lights…and water) on for me. Because I’ll
be back as soon as I can.
Luego.