Summertime
(pretty much year-round)
and the Livin' is Easy
(for the most part)
There's a lot to love about our lifestyle in Panama. Our apartment is just a few blocks from Russ's office, so he walks to work. We meet for lunch in the middle of the day, and there's a wide and growing assortment of really good places to eat right on our street. The only drawback to this arrangement is that it's not always easy to navigate even the few blocks between here and there. With construction and traffic, one never knows what to expect. But one should always expect something.
One of the reasons I almost get killed on my run regularly is that I haven't really figured out the rules of the road. As a pedestrian at home, when I make eye contact with a driver before I venture into the street, it serves to reassure me that they see me and that they will observe the crosswalk. In Panama, when I make eye contact, I've come to realize that the driver is equally as likely to hit the gas as to hit the brake. This morning a courteous driver flashed her lights at me, which I took as a signal that she would remain stopped and I should proceed to cross. However, at lunchtime a driver flashed her lights at us as a signal that she was going to plow through the crosswalk and we'd best let her pass. You can see the problem.
It's equally difficult to understand the rules of social engagement. In an elevator, one should acknowledge all other passengers, both as they get on and as they get off. On the street, it seems one shouldn't acknowledge anyone, even if you see them every day. I've got as much to learn about the non-verbal communication here as I do about the actual language. It's all clear as the river outside my window, which when the tide goes out is basically a menacing ooze of smelly mud.
Russ has recently found a tennis academy where he plays weekly. Judging from the big-ticket vehicles and the beautiful high-rise buildings in Costa del Este, one might expect tennis here to be a swanky affair. One would be mistaken.
The great thing about the Academia de Tennis is that it has a roof over the court. Roofs matter in the rainy season. The scary thing about it is that staircase on the left that you have to climb to get to it.
He wasn't sure he could get in, because the roster was completely full. Then he learned that a lesson cost $20. By offering $25, he was able to magically secure a permanent spot during a very prime piece of weekend real-estate. I have a feeling this anecdote could have broader implications.
For instance, people carry cash here. That's because apparently, car accidents cost $100. I'm not sure who set this agreed-upon price, but the prevailing wisdom is it's a good idea to always carry $100 because if you have an accident, that's what the other party is going to expect you to hand over to make them go away. These are the things they never print in guidebooks, but should. Especially because every time you don't get in a car accident in Panama, it's a pleasant surprise.
There is no test to qualify for a driver's license, you need merely request one. And it shows. (Side note: Florida did not require Driver's Ed, which explained a lot, but they did at least require a test. I believe my daughter passed it with her parking brake engaged, however....which come to think of it also explained a lot.)
On the other hand, any written test of Panamanian road rules would only have one answer, so I can understand why they don't bother. To most any question, the correct answer appears to be, "Do whatever the hell you want or need to do to get where you're going."
The buses are mostly unofficial vehicles that appear to run without schedules or published routes. But that's probably okay, because there aren't really addresses.
Yet somehow it works.
Perhaps America needs to relax a little, and just enjoy more fresh pineapple.
The view from our hotel room at sunset. You can see ships lined up for the locks all along the horizon. They're there 24 hrs a day. Getting through the Panama Canal is actually a long process.
To that end, we're doing our part. We spent the past weekend at one of the beautiful Pacific resorts on the other side of Panama City. It was only about 10 miles from our apartment, but seemed a world away. We saw an iguana that was a good 2.5 feet long, skulking around a lava flow after the tide went out. It was one of those moments where you have to keep reminding yourself you're not in an engineered habitat at the MN Zoo. You're just out for a Saturday morning walk on the beach.
The rules for growth here seem to be just about the same as the rules of the road. Nature is neither disciplined nor polite.
It's also full of surprises! There are cacti, and in fact, there was an enormous one growing right on the beach. (Maybe you knew that, but I didn't.) This one grows right outside our apartment. I believe they've put it there to make me feel more at home, which was most kind of them. It's working.
Those moments happen a lot here, and it amazes me when I remember that I'm hanging out in Panama's "parlor"...the fancy part of the house where they entertain guests.
I'm eager to get a glimpse of some of the other rooms, parts of the house where Panama actually lives. I can't say for sure yet, but I have a hunch I'll find...it's a jungle out there.