Off to Panama

Well, these events are almost a week old, so fortunately for you I will keep my next entries short.

I had to go off to Panama City for a meeting with the U.S. Embassy to get a replacement passport.  First stop, Changuinola to get a police report on the missing/stolen passport then down across the country to the Pacific side to catch a bus from David to Panama City on the trans-American highway.  Timon, my gardener, showed. I gave him instructions.  Juan, my water taxi driver showed and we headed out to Bocas Town where I caught a water taxi to Almirante, the port city on the mainland.  As Taxi 25 is offering a special promotion price of $3 to drum up some business for their reopening after an extended shutdown due to political retribution the round trip fare is $5 for those in the know.

Less than half an hour later I was on the mainland, grabbed a $1 taxi fare to the bus terminal and got on a bus.   I don't often sleep while commuting but exhausted fell asleep almost right away.  I woke at a roadside cafeteria.  Oops!  The David to Changuinola bus I caught was heading to David, not the other leg.   No travelling papers. Ahh, I can probably bullshit my way through the passport controls, I've done it often enough.  Two hours later I was able to verify my confidence. David to Panama.  How much is the fare to Luna's Castle?  Five bucks?  Why?  "Cinco Dollares para uno!"  It's a holiday and night time by now, what had this been, ten hours?  I caught another for $3.

Luna's Castle wouldn't allow me to stay without a passport and sent me to Hospedeje Casco Viejo.  They cared for little more than the eight bucks for a dorm room.   "Jim!  What are you doing here?"  What's his name?   Oh, just here to go to the Embassy to apply for a passport replacement.   A little chatting, a long walk to find an open restaurant, surfing the web until two in the morning when the clerk wanted to sleep on the couch.  She suggested that I change rooms as there were a lot more women in another room.  Not sure of the benefit of a room full of sleeping women I opted out.   She told me the room was cooler.   It was a strangely comfortable day anyway.   Not worth the effort, I set up camp in the room she suggested and surprisingly, quickly found sleep.

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Then...  I found my notes.

Water taxi guy is coming at 8, Timon at 7:30. I gave Timon instructions, rake the yard, reduce the felled trees to small pieces and make sure they are all laying on the ground so they will rot quickly. Have the wife wash every square inch of every drawer, cupboard, wall, window ledge, door frame, all furniture, put coconut oil on every bit of wood.

The boat couldn't have been more than eight feet long nor had a beam over three feet. The bathtub at my last house was bigger. The water was still and the two of us flew to town. I bought some TWC-3 oil for Timon to mix with his gas for the chainsaw, delivered it to a friend to drop off at my house on his way back from Red Frog Beach and headed to Bocas Marine Tours for my ride to Almirante.

A girl sat, inconsolable TODO, on the dock. “What's wrong girl?” “I don't want to leave.” “Find true love in three days?” “No it's just so beautiful.” “You'll be back. Where do you have to go to?” “Costa Rica.” “Puerto Viejo? C'mon, that's a nice little town.” “No, San Jose.” “I am so sorry.” Turns out her parents were paying $10,000 for her to live with a family for three months to learn Spanish. Somebody is getting screwed. You can do that in far nicer towns in Guatemala, delightful, clean, safe towns for $300 a month, room, board and instruction.

The boat pulled out at 8:44. Strange, BMT is usually very prompt every half hour on the hour and the half. Twenty five minutes later I was in Almirante, at the other station of thieves operated by Bocas Marine Tours. Three taxis were queued outside. Chelo TODO hailed me from the rear of the line. He gave me a $1 ride to the bus terminal, I gave him a twenty and didn't ask for change. Read my entry of February 14^th if you wonder why.

I nodded. I seldom sleep on buses. WTF? There is no cafeteria stop on the way to Changuinola. I was on the Changuinola to David bus. Damn. I was supposed to go to Changuinola and get some papers so that I could travel for twenty four hours without a passport. Ok, let's see if I can pull this off. “Yo quiere pollo frito, pappas frito y “ I pointed at a spring roll. “Nombre in Espanol?” “Spring Roll.” What? Yup the woman in line behind me confirmed that was the name. Why not? A translation would make as little sense. We rolled on. I paid my $8.45 and we soon stopped in David without stopping at a passport control.

Trying to buy a ticket to Panama City the woman insisted I need a passport. Ok, now what? I passed her a giant stack of papers and told her they were from the American Embassy and that they were approved pointing to a Bocatorian notary seal. The papers were in English. She had no idea what they said. I got a ticket issued to Will Schath and boarded the big bus.

Just before getting to Santiago we were stopped for passport control. I handed the officer a stack of papers from the U.S. Embassy and told him I was going to Panama to pick up my passport. I wasn't. I was going to apply for a replacement. “Tienne, manana in Panama.” He let it slide. We passed through Santiago. At 8:43 we pulled into Albrook National Bus Terminal. Hmmm, first time I ever came to Panama by bus, but I've left it often. “Quento questo para Luna's Castle?” “Cinco.” “Cinco? Para que?” “Cinco.” It's a national holiday but, no he is just being a horses ass. It should be $2.50, $3.00 on Sundays and holidays. I asked the next cabbie, he witnessed me walking away and told me the fare would be $3. I got in. I rode. I got out. I walked up the stairs. I was told I needed to have a passport. The girl was adamant. I was told I could go to Hospedeje Casco Viejo and no ID would be required. Five minutes later I arrived. All they wanted was the cash. No private rooms available.

Where to eat? Everything had closed early for the holiday. A young Dutch guy walked out of the kitchen, “Hi Jim, what are you doing here?” “What the hell, I thought you were in Colombia.” “I leave tomorrow.” I told him I had to go get something to eat and that I would catch him later. I walked three blocks, nothing. I asked the guard with the submachine gun at the entrance to the Presidential Palace, probably significantly smaller than any of the presidents actual homes. Nope, nothing is open. I wandered. I asked. I got wrong answers. I asked more. No, I don't want any weed. No, thank you. No. Everywhere I went a group of pre-teens were smoking pot and offering it for sale. Police were on every other corner. Nobody else was in the streets. I finally found a fried chicken place and at more fried food.

Back to the hotel in a roundabout manner. A quick chat and some internet time killing. By this time it was 1:30. The woman at the front desk wanted me to go to bed. I had slept on the bus and felt no need for sleep. She told me she would put me in another room, with lots of women. What? Is that some sort of incentive? I am going to go into a dorm room and entertain myself with sleeping young women? Ahh well. I could probably sleep if I try.