Willie Colon and Marc Anthony

Last week we were invited to see the Willie Colon/Marc Anthony concert.  So we headed into the city on Saturday to run some errands.  And then there was a downpour.  And then we found out the concert would be outside at the baseball stadium.

We called our inviters and asked "Do you think it's going to rain tonight?  Should we buy rain jackets?  umbrellas?"

"No way" was how Macy responded, "There's no way it's going to rain!  It's done for the day."

Not living in the city, I took her word that maybe during the rainy season it only rains once every 24 hours and it was clearing up.

So that evening we met at the Decapolis Hotel for a quick drink and sushi.  Around 9pm we headed over to the concert which was scheduled to begin at 9:30.

For those who aren't familiar with either, Willie Colon (born 28 April 1950) is a Puerto Rican salsa music icon. First and foremost a trombonist, Colón also sings, writes, produces and acts. In September 2004, Colón received the Lifetime Achievement Grammy Award from the Latin Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences. Over the course of his career, he has collaborated with musical greats such as the Fania All Stars, Héctor Lavoe, Rubén Blades, David Byrne, and Celia Cruz. Siembra, his record with Rubén Blades, was the best selling album for its genre.

Marc Anthony, most famously married to Jennifer Lopez, an amazing Pop Latin singer. 

So we get into the stadium at 9:30 with an expected start time of 9:30.  We head to our seats.  The ground level seats are tables set up with 6 seats around them.  We take our seats and immediately are met by our waiter - a guy dressed in white button down and black pants asking what we want to drink.  Next thing I know, we're buying a bottle of Abuelo (Panamanian rum) and there's a bucket of ice, some cokes and cups.  We sit around and drink and drink and drink.  We look around.  Everyone is drinking Abuelo or Seco.  I thought "wow this is the way a concert should be."

And in typical Latin form, the opening act (Willie Colon) FINALLY comes on at 10:30.  He was amazing...horns, singing, dancing.

He finishes about 11:30.  And then we wait and wait and wait.  It starts to sprinkle and then rain and then rain harder.  Marc Anthony decides to come out on stage at 12:30am.  Now I'm usually asleep by 9:30 and have already been woken up twice by the kids by 12:30 so this is turning into a late night.  And it's raining.  

He finishes his set at 2:30 in the morning.  Fabulous show, great singer, well worth it and now it's time to get home.  And in typical Panamanian fashion, we get to the car (parked on the highway but that's another story) and we sit in traffic until 3:30am.  We end up arriving back at the hotel at 4am.  We fall into bed, shivering and shaking.  But another amazing night in Panama.  And of course it was going to rain - it's the rainy season!

A Growing Trend of Leaving America

A Growing Trend of Leaving America

By some estimates 3 million citizens become expatriates a year, but most not for political reasons

PANAMA CITY, PANAMA—Dressed in workout casual and sipping a soda in one of the apartment-style rooms of Los Cuatro Tulipanes hotel, Matt Landau appears very much at home in Panama. One might even be tempted to call him an old hand were he not, at age 25, so confoundingly young. Part owner of this lovely boutique hotel in Panama City's historic Casco Viejo, he is also a travel writer (99 Things to Do in Costa Rica), a real estate marketing consultant, and editor of The Panama Report, an online news and opinion monthly. Between fielding occasional calls and text messages, the New Jersey native is explaining what drew him here, by way of Costa Rica, after he graduated from college in 2005. In addition to having great weather, pristine beaches, a rich melting-pot culture, a reliable infrastructure, and a clean-enough legal system, "what Panama is all about," he says, "is the chance to get into some kind of market first." Landau cites other attractions: "There is more room for error here," he says. "You can make mistakes without being put under. That, to me, as an entrepreneur, is the biggest draw."

American voters at a polling station in Ajijic, Mexico. Expats also voted by fax and Internet.

(Guillermo Arias/AP)

Long a business and trade hub, Panama has been booming ever since the United States gave it full control of the Canal Zone in 1999. But as Landau says, it is precisely because so much of Panama's economy has been focused on canal-related activities that opportunities in other sectors, from real estate to finance to a host of basic services, have gone largely untapped. And among the many foreigners coming to tap them—as well as to enjoy the good life that Panama offers—are a sizable number of Americans.

These Yankees, it turns out, are part of a larger American phenomenon: a wave of native-born citizens who are going abroad in search of new challenges, opportunities, and more congenial ways of life.

In his recent book Bad Money, political commentator Kevin Phillips warns that an unprecedented number of citizens, fed up with failed politics and a souring economy, have already departed for other countries, with even larger numbers planning to do so soon. But that may be putting too negative a reading on this little-noticed trend. In fact, most of today's expats are not part of a new Lost Generation, moving to Paris or other European haunts to nurse their disillusionment and write their novels. Some may be artists and bohemians, but many more are entrepreneurs, teachers, or skilled knowledge workers in the globalized high-tech economy. Others are members of a retirement bulge that is stretching pensions and IRAs by living abroad. And while a high percentage of expats are unhappy with the rightward tilt of George Bush's America, most don't see their decision to move overseas as a political statement.

Southward trend. Europe still draws many of these American emigrants, but even more have relocated in Canada and Mexico. Others are trying out Australia, New Zealand, or one of the new economies of Asia, while a growing stream flows southward to Central and South America. John Wennersten, author of Leaving America: The New Expatriate Generation and a retired historian who has taught for many years abroad, says Panama is the "new new thing" for those who are part of what he calls "a long-term trend."

Exactly how many people are part of this trend is hard to say. Precise emigration figures have never been easy to come by in the United States. "It's been an implicit assumption that people come here to stay, not to come and go," says Mike Hoefer, head of the Office of Immigration Statistics at the Department of Homeland Security. The government's last trial effort to count Americans overseas, in 1999, was deemed inordinately expensive. Elizabeth Grieco, chief of immigration statistics at the U.S. Census Bureau, puts it bluntly: "We don't count U.S. citizens living abroad."

But if the government is not counting, others are. Estimates made by organizations such as the Association of Americans Resident Overseas put the number of nongovernment-employed Americans living abroad anywhere between 4 million and 7 million, a range whose low end is based loosely on the government's trial count in 1999. Focusing on households rather than individuals (and excluding households in which any member has been sent overseas either by the government or private companies), a series of recent Zogby polls commissioned by New Global Initiatives, a consulting firm, yielded surprising results: 1.6 million U.S. households had already determined to relocate abroad; an additional 1.8 million households were seriously considering such a move, while 7.7 million more were "somewhat seriously" contemplating it. If the data collected in the seven polls conducted between 2005 and 2007 are fairly representative of the current decade, then, by a modest estimate, at least 3 million U.S. citizens a year are venturing abroad. More interesting, the biggest number of relocating households is not those with people in or approaching retirement but those with adults ranging from 25 to 34 years old.

According to Robert Adams, the CEO of New Global Initiatives, the motives of relocators are almost as hard to pin down as the numbers. "The only Americans who understand what's going on are those living abroad," he says. "There is no movement, no leader. It's just millions of people making individual decisions to do it."

Now living mostly in Panama City, Adams finds that the reasons people give for moving abroad often change, particularly among those who stay overseas for any length of time. In fact, he says, those who claim they came for a specific reason—for example, dissatisfaction with American politics—tend to be least happy with what they find in the new settings. By and large, most successful Americans abroad "are running to rather than running from," Adams stresses.

A new "West." Some observers even wonder whether words such as migration, emigration, and expatriation accurately describe most Americans' ventures abroad. Today, moving from the States to a place like Panama is almost tantamout to moving from the East Coast to the West Coast 50 years ago. And the Internet, Skype, and satellite television make it easy for people to stay in touch with the homeland. "While people are looking for something new, they're not giving up their citizenship," says Adams, who prefers the word relocation to emigration.

While American relocators are in some ways typical pioneers looking for a new "West," they are also participants in a larger, international development, "a global economic shift," Wennersten writes, "that is fostering real economic growth in heretofore-neglected areas of the world, like Latin America, Eastern Europe, and Southeast Asia." U.S. citizens are certainly not the sole beneficiaries of this shift, but they are active players in countries where the privatizing of former state-run industries and the opening of new capital and trade markets are creating an array of opportunities. "From computer consulting firms in Hong Kong to bagel shops in Budapest," Wennersten notes, "Americans are helping to revitalize or sustain economies that are receptive to Western entrepreneurship."

Talk to some of the successful American relocators around the world and the broad generalizations about them tend to hold up—though not so much as to overwhelm the huge variety of experience and achievement that distinguishes their lives. Michael Sheren, 45, who worked for Chemical Bank in New York in his early career, came to England in 1997 primarily to apply his background in leveraged buy-outs to the European market. Now working in the London office of Calyon Crédit Agricole, a French bank, he credits his American training and drive for giving him a leg up in his work. America's image abroad has suffered during the Bush years, he acknowledges, but he finds that Europeans still value the can-do spirit of Americans. "People equate Ameri-ca with success, even now," he says.

While business is what initially drew him to England, Sheren is now deeply attached to the British way of life. That includes everything from a generous government-backed system of social supports for all citizens to a mentality that is more comfortable with leisure. "I consider the quality of life here significantly better than what I would have over there," he says.

Sheren acquired British citizenship and has at times been tempted to abandon his American one, but he attaches relatively little importance to nationality. His closest friends are an international lot, and he greatly values the freedom of movement that comes with a European passport. "I feel more like a sovereign individual," he says, using the label coined by authors James Dale Davidson and William Rees-Mogg in their book, The Sovereign Individual: Mastering the Transition to the Information Age.

Immersion. Cynthia Barcomi, a Seattle-born artist, writer, and entrepreneur who came to Berlin in 1985 to launch her professional dancing career, stresses how different the expatriate life is from that of Americans who have been sent abroad by the government or private business. To her, it involves a much deeper immersion in the new culture. Like many of the relocators that Adams and Wennersten have dealt with, Barcomi says her motive for moving was more a deep hunch than a single, clearly articulated reason. She had seen a lot of German dance while a student at Columbia University, but she calls her final leap "a blind decision." She didn't even speak German.

After eight years with a professional dance troupe, Barcomi decided on another leap, this one into a new career as the founder and operator of what is now one of Berlin's most prominent coffee and baked goods stores. So successful did that venture prove that she later opened a deli under the Barcomi name. And between raising her children, she has written two respected cookbooks.

Barcomi's reflections on her expatriate life are nuanced: "I feel like the longer I live in Germany, the more I identify with being an American. It takes a while to realize how different we are from the Germans." But Barcomi also says that she has no intention of returning to the United States, even though she would never give up her passport. "I can't imagine living in the American rat race, even though I love Ameri-ca. I wouldn't leave here. I'm at the top of my game."

Like Sheren, Barcomi feels that her American attitudes and education, including her Girl Scout training, prepared her well for a successful life abroad. "I think perseverance is a distinctly American quality."

One big question is whether America is ultimately gaining or losing from this movement of bold, talented Americans into other countries. The answer is not simple. Wennersten cites what he estimates is a loss of about $30 billion in payroll, but he considers the outflow of expertise an even bigger potential drain. "It's not the average guys who are going," he says. "It's these 'crea-tives' who will be establishing the paradigm of the future."

Whether the relocation trend is heading toward a zero-sum outcome is something that you can't help pondering when you meet young American expatriates in Panama. If what they bring here in terms of skills, knowledge, and energy is Panama's gain, is America necessarily a loser?

Not if you look at what Jon Hurst is doing. Before starting the New York Bagel Café in the Cangrejo ("Crab" neighborhood of Panama City, the 38-year-old Arkansas native had spent a good part of his life helping others, from working with disabled adults in California to stints in the Peace Corps and the Crisis Corps in Central America. In fact, he sees the business he launched in 2006 as an extension of what he had recently been doing for an organization that focused on sustainable development in Panama and nearby countries. "One of the reasons I opened this place is to create a sustainable business that would help the local community," says Hurst.

Coupling hard work with idealism, Hurst has built a store that has become a hub in this oldish, artsy quarter. His eight Panamanian employees are well paid and are learning about all aspects of the food business. The free WiFi and all-you-can-drink coffee, in addition to bagels and sandwiches, draw a lively mix of customers who conduct business, check their E-mail, or simply meet with friends. And while there are great challenges to life in Panama City, from appalling traffic to difficulty in getting equipment repairs, Hurst finds the Panamanians friendly and the local conditions (particularly the free trade zone and a modest regulatory regime) especially hospitable to small business. The Panamanian government encourages foreign entrepreneurs by giving microinvestor visas to those who put up at least $50,000 and employ at least three Panamanians. "I couldn't have opened this type of business in the States," says Hurst, who makes the same point that Landau does: "Here there's no one competing against me."

It may not be much of a stretch to say that today one of America's strongest exports is its skilled, energetic, and often idealistic relocators. If America's information-driven economy is the engine of globalization, it is fitting that Americans are working in those parts of the world that are being transformed by the process. They make up an entrepreneurial "peace corps"—establishing businesses, employing, instructing, setting examples, and often currying goodwill. It is a cliché, but still largely true, that many foreigners say that they distrust America but like Americans. These relocators have something to do with this.

And America itself is also learning something from those Americans abroad. "We're developing a breed of Americans who won't find it easy to go back home," says Adams, stating a truth that is not as negative as it sounds. Two Americans who exemplify that breed are Coley and Allison Hudgins, a couple with backgrounds in political and corporate consulting who now live in a small Pacific coast community about two hours from Panama City. She and a partner run a small short-term rental agency, while he and an associate head Latin American Venture Partners, locating investors for assorted building proj-ects in the country.

Escaping "sameness." Doing most of their work out of their condo, the Hudginses have two young children whose edu-cation at a local Spanish-language Catholic school is supplemented with materials that their mother downloads from the Internet. Describing themselves as libertarians, the Hudginses went abroad out of discontent, not with American politics but with a dull sameness they found in American suburban life. Even though they did extensive planning for the move, they admit that the challenges of the new life are considerable. (Some of the greater ones are imposed by the U.S. government, which, though it grants an exemption of close to $86,000 of earnings, is the only developed nation that taxes citizens who are living abroad and paying foreign income taxes.) But both are quick to say that the rewards far outweigh the difficulties. In addition to valuing the warm weather, the idyllic setting, a close family life, and a busy social schedule, both are clearly invigorated by days that that are demanding but not stressful in a culture that blends the modern and the traditional in a comfortable way. They appreciate the irony that American know-how and technology (largely the Internet) make it possible for them to enjoy what is in many ways a very un-American lifestyle. But they are doubtful whether they can go home again. "We may decide to pack up and move on one day," Allison says. "But it's more likely that we'd find some new port of call than move back to the States."

Even if they don't return home, though, it is unlikely that what the Hudginses and other creative American relocators do will be lost on their compatriots back home. These relocators are part of a vast, generally benign cultural exchange, channeling different mores, attitudes, and ways of life back to America, even while bringing some distinctively American skills and attitudes to the wider world. Globalization may still seem like a grand abstraction, involving vast, impersonal forces, but the millions of Americans living and working abroad are part of its very human reality.

 

 

“Panama…where is that?”

I know this kind of thing probably happens more than I think but it's still funny nonetheless.  I had been corresponding with a girl online about a condo rental on the beach.  We sent emails back and forth - her questions, my answers, here's the contract, etc.

Well she decides to call me to get a few questions cleared up about the contract…

Girl (sweet southern drawal):  Hi! Well I have a question about the contract.  What does it mean "no groups or parties"?  Does that mean we have to be chaperoned?  I mean we're all 18 years old.

Me: Ok, well it's not a problem as long as you all take care of the place. (I give her a brief lecture about calling me with problems, don't trash the condo, etc.)

Girl: Ok that sounds perfect!  Now where are you located again?

Me:  This condo is about 1.5 hours from Panama City overlooking the beach.

Girl:  Well I'm trying to figure out the best way to get there because my girlfriends and I, we're going to be driving.

Me:  (Thinkng Wow! Pretty cool and brave of this 18 year old girl to drive all the way to Panama).  Ok, well how long have you given yourself to get here if you're going to be driving?

Girl:  We live in Tennessee so it shouldn't be more than 8 hours.

Me: (Now realizing she thinks she's going to Florida)  Let me explain something and don't be embarrassed because it's happened to others.  You're trying to book a condo in Panama...the country of Panama.

Girl:  (Loooooooooong silence.  Giggle.)  Huh?

Me:  This is the country of Panama.  You need to start your search again and look for Florida.

Girl:  Where am I calling?

Me:  You're trying to book a condo in the country of Panama.  This is Panama, in Latin America.

Girl:  (silence) Panama...where is that?

Me:  It's right above…

And she hung up.  I sure hope she makes it to Florida.

A Guest’s View of Panama

Allison asked that I submit a short blog about our trip to Panama in February and  share some of our experiences.

First of all, I should get the kudos for Premier Panama Properties and their team out of the way.  The trip went very smoothly and Allison did a wonderful job of meeting out needs and making sure we were comfortable in the house known on the Premier Panama website as Oro del Sol.  She even found us a bar where we could watch the Super Bowl. The only problem was that cell phone service is very poor there and the house has no phone.  However, after a few days relaxing in the sun, it didn’t seem to be that big a deal.  

The house was absolutely fantastic. We had four couples and it was very roomy and comfortable.  The pool and the views from any where in the back yard were terrific.  We got to the point that we rarely wanted to leave the house, except of course for walks on the beach.

Veronica, the housekeeper, made us feel welcome and cooked wonderful breakfasts. The fresh fruit was plentiful and delicious.  For dinners, Allison had recommended Alberto the chef and we decided to engage him for four of the days we were there.  This turned out to be an excellent decision. The food he and Luis prepared was exceptional and we didn’t have to think about meals except to be at the table on time.  The overall cost was less than if we had eaten out.  This was a pleasant surprise because we had pretty much put ourselves in Alberto’s hands and left the menus to him.  We didn’t have any idea how much the food was costing as we were merrily consuming steak, seafood and pina coladas.  When Alberto presented us with the itemized bill it all seemed very reasonable.  It could be my imagination, but it also seems like Alberto has access to better food, especially produce than what we found in the Super 99 in Penonome.  I think it’s fair to say that when we go back our first move will be to make sure Alberto is available.

We made a side trip to Casa de Lourdes Restaurant in el Valle for an excellent lunch and a trip to the local market.  It was just unbelievable to find this incredibly beautiful restaurant and garden after driving down a couple of dirt roads.  The food was fantastic and very reasonably priced.  

The trip to the market in el Valle was very enjoyable mostly for what didn’t happen.  For any of you that have been to markets in Mexico, you know that the competition is intense and patrons are constantly having items thrust in their faces while being urged to buy something.  The el Valle market was a delightful contrast to that experience.  We strolled calmly through the stalls and even when we stopped to look, the vendors would allow us to browse without any evidence of hard sell.  We didn’t even have the heart to bargain.  The prices seemed reasonable and the atmosphere was so relaxed we simply paid what was asked.  

The people of Panama all seemed friendly and anxious to help. This was good because the country is not big on street signs and directional markers.  We were asking for directions a lot.  This was mostly in Panama City, but we even needed directions in el Valle and Penonnome.  Even finding something as common as the Miraflore Locks on the Panama Canal required the help of a kind Panama Canal Authority employee.

On the topic of driving, I would recommend traveling to Bueanaventura before dark if at all possible.  Thanks to a couple of hours wandering around Panama City trying to find the Centenary Bridge (looked for it both coming and  going and never did find it) we were late in arriving and had a heck of a time finding  the house. The road to Bueanventura is well marked and Allison’s directions gave us good landmarks for our turn off the Panamerican Highway, however, once you are off the highway the road is dark and gravel.    It was kind of a leap of faith for us city folks from the US to travel down this dark bumpy road in hopes that the gates to Buenaventura were going to be there.  Happily they were, and our key was waiting with instructions to the house.  While the instructions were clear and I am sure we would have had no problems in the daylight, we struggled as we searched for the right street and then the right house.  We finally flagged down one of the ubiquitous security men and had him ride with us to the house.  Once we were settled in though no one complained and the stars in the dark night sky were beautiful.

Finally, I should mention a couple of restaurants.  We had an excellent dinner at Pippa’s Beach Front Grill and stopped in at Woody’s beach bar one evening for a drink.  The food there must have been good because most of the clientele were eating and drinking despite having free food and drink available at the all-inclusive resort just up the road. XS is a good place for a burger and beer as well.

I think this pretty much concludes my observations.  Obviously, if you are considering the trip I think everyone in our party would recommend it.  We are all considering return again next year.  

Submitted by John Amos, visited Panama in early February 2008

First Day of School

So we made it through "summer" with a few trips and a few visits from friends and family.  The kids were ready to start...Max in 1st grade and Lila in Pre-K.  We talked to Lila about starting school.  We bought her all the Hello Kitty gear we could find mostly because it's all pink stuff.  Because she loves pink "142" which is a lot since blue she only likes "5".  Me, she likes "143".  Whew, I'm so glad she likes me more than pink.

Sunday night we prepared all of our gear.  The kids wanted pizza and a ham sandwich and the chocolate pre-packaged cupcakes.  We laid out the clothes, set the alarm for 5:53am and since my husband was out of town, the 3 of  us piled into my bed, read a few books and promptly all fell asleep, including me.

Wow that alarm comes early.  We got up, got dressed and Lila only did a bit of whining about not wanting to go.  She told me on the way to school that it was important that I tell her teacher that:

A.  She didn't want to learn today because she already knew everything.

B.  She only wanted to play today.

Ok Lila, I'll be sure to tell her that.

We got to the school by 7am and Lila was still holding it together.  They were doing the Monday morning opening ceremony and announcement.  Lila played at the park a bit while Max disappeared with his good friend Juan Jose.

I dropped Max off and took Lila to her room.  There were a couple of crying kids but she did great because of course she knows everything already.  I told her after a few minutes I had to go run errands and buy her treat for after school.  Yahoo!  I outconned her!  

I returned at 11:30 to pick her up and she had a huge smile on her face.  She declared that she wasn't ready to leave.

Isla Contadora

We decided to take a vacation and head off to the Pearl Islands.  Grabbed the kids, packed a bag and headed into the city on Sunday.  We hadn't made any reservations at hotels figuring we'd be ok on a Sunday night.  The first 2 hotels we stopped at were booked (Plaza Paitilla and Decapolis) so we made a quick pit stop at the Bristol.  They had one room.  What the heck -  we're on vacation.  On Monday, we caught the 10am AirPanama 15 minute flight to Isla Contadora.  It's definitely a sleepy island.  We had made tentative reservations to stay at Hotel Contadora but when you step off the runway, the Hotel Punta Galeon is right there so we decided to try this hotel instead.  Apparently owned by Peruvians and rarely full, we stepped into our little hotel room - a double and a twin.  Neat, tidy and every room has an amazing view of the ocean.  We immediately rented a golf cart to explore the island.  Ended up on the other side at the Hotel Romantica restaurant.  We ordered our food and headed down to the beach below.

The sand on Isla Contadora is the softest white sand beach I think I've ever been to.  The tide was low...perfect for exploring the rocky areas.  We spent the rest of the day exploring, swimming at the hotel pool, playing at the park and relaxing, and thinking up stories about the pirates that invaded this area - a favorite activity of Max's.  At one point we ended up on what I believe is the only nude beach in Panama.  I tentatively looked around.  Ok good, there's no one here, I can take off my clothes.  Just kidding.  That's not really my thing.  But with the kids there, I just really didn't want to have to answer why grandpa doesn't have any swimming suit on. 

We stopped off on the island and jumped in to snorkel.  It was Max's first time and the fish we saw were gorgeous.  Lila decided to just swim it with me  Then we all loaded back up to head off to another beautiful island.  Lila was quick to find a sand dollar and other beautiful shells.  We walked across the beach and up through the mangroves.  Truly amazing.

That afternoon we took golf carting to a whole new dimension.  It was more like 4 wheeling, except with a golf cart and no helmuts and 4 people in the front seat and going 5 mph.  But we did take on some treacherous paths and there were times I was planning on how to safely make an exit.  Ok Coley you're in charge of Max and I'll jump with Lila.  But after Coley told me just to relax, I realized there was really no way we'd be able to survive if our brakes went out so I just went with it. 

On Hotel Contadora's beach we explored an old abandoned ferry (see photo below).  I wonder what that story was.  Max thought it had something to do with pirates.  We stopped at the airport and watched the 20 seater planes take off and land.  Back at the hotel, we played pool and foosball.  Drank our fair share of pina coladas which were very very good by the way. 

The next day we headed out.  The airplane even allowed us to board even though we had lost our boarding passes.  So laid back, just my style.

Time to get a drivers license

So we´ve lived here for 1.5 years and never got around to getting our drivers licenses.  If I was stopped, the police, for whatever reason...a smile or maybe an extra $5.00...would let me happily go along my way with a not so stern warning to get my drivers license.  I kept putting that on my To Do list but that list never really has a starting or ending point so at times, it would fall off, only to reappear when I received my not so stern warning.

Well my smile didn´t work this time.  The police stopped me in Anton (halfway between Rio Hato and Penonome) before Xmas.  They often have checkpoints there and it was Max´s last day of Kindergarten.  I was driving home from dropping him off ready to go for my daily horse back ride along the beach.  The cop asked me all the appropriate questions and upon realizing I had been in the country for a year and half without a drivers license, he promptly told me to pull over. 

For the next hour, I pleaded with him and begged his forgiveness so I could go on my way.  He wasn´t budging.  He told me I would have to call someone to come pick up me and the car.  No license, no driving.  Ugh.  Well unfortuantely my lawyer was unavailable, my husband didn´t have his license and my options were limited.  I finally thought to call the one of the employees of Buenaventura.  "Alejandro, it's me Allison.  I have a problem".  Within 15 minutes I had a driver and a ride home.

So the next thing was figuring out how to get our licenses.  The police in Anton told me I would have to take an exam in Spanish.  That wasn't going to work.  After a few phone calls, we headed down (with a driver of course) to Penonome, through Anton, to the drivers license office.

Very nice lady.  We needed the following:

1.  Proof of valid drivers license.  This is different from your actual driver license.

2.  Glucose Test.  Do not ask me why.  maybe to make sure you won't faint from low blood sugar after driving next to your typical panamanian taxi driver)

3.  Visa.

First off, down to the U.S. Embassy in the city to get proof that our licenses were valid U.S. drivers licenses.  That process took about 15 minutes, cost us, I don't know, maybe $40.00.  My husband then had to verify that the verification was real.  I don't really know the end part of this story...someting about going down to a Panamanian administration office.  In any case, that took 3 or 4 hours.  But back to my story.

Second, glucose test.  Very strange indeed.  We headed the next day back to Penonome to one of the gazillion clinics they have.  Coley took his glucose test first.  Fine.  Then I took mine.  I think the range is supposed to be something like 85 to 110.  Mine was at 125.  She pointed to the half eaten apple I had in my hand.  I also told her I had just eaten a cookie.  With a sly smile, she said "Let's just mark it down to 100".  Perfect.  $6.00 later we were on our way.

Headed back to the Drivers License Bureau.  Took a vision test, hearing test and answered a few questions, including what was our blood type.  That's a hard question.  For some reason I've never had to know my blood type but in Panama everyone knows their blood type.  Coley quickly jumped in to answer the question.  There was no way he was going to let us get this far only to be sent home to have to return another day.  I have no idea if his answer was right but as of right now I'm A positive.

So the process was actually much easier than we thought and still not sure why we didn't do this before.

Now, how do we deal with getting new U.S. licenses?  I'll worry about that another day.

Max´s Last Day of Kindergarten

We officially finished school this past Friday.  Wow and I needed a break.  Max and I left each morning for school by 6:30am.  School began at 7:00am.  Quick kiss and a wave goodbye and I would head home to get a few things done.  Then back on the road at 11am for an 11:30am pickup to return home at noon.  The drive itself isn't that bad, but 5 days a week for 9 months is a bit tiring.

Max attended Kindergarten at a private Catholic school in Penonome called Santo Domingo.  It includes Pre-K through Highschool and probably has close to 500 students.  It costs about $50.00 per month and it truly is a bilingual school.  He made some great friends this year and we met a lot of great parents.  And they definitely know how to have a party at the school.  It seemed there was some kind of celebration every couple of weeks, whether during the school day or for the parents.  One party for the parents required me to get a Peter Pan costume made for Max.  I still don't understand what that was all about.  But all the kindergartners marched onstage to really loud Latino music, sang a song and then marched off.  Max was really sour the whole time and I guess I would be too if my mom had put me in that costume.  He said later it was because his friends said his costume shoes were too big.  I told him to turn around and tell his friends that their shoes were too small.  (See Peter Pan pic below).

Last week was Mother's Day in Panama.  They had a Mother's Day celebration.  I dragged Coley along.  He looked around and soon realized he was one of two men in the entire outdoor auditorium.  I never know what the men are supposed to attend or not.  We watched the Pre-Ks do their thing on stage and then Max and the Kindergartners took the stage.  They sang a song and danced.  Max had a huge smile on his face this time.  When they started exiting the stage, Max put his hand to his forehead in a salute and marched off like a soldier.  Oh great, look at the little American soldier in the middle of all the tranquilo Panamanian kids.

So last week was the teacher's conference.  I didn't fully understand what I needed to do but they said to bring Max.  We drove to the school for our 3:00pm conference.  I sat in front of the room while Max and his Spanish teacher worked at the chalkboard.  For about 20 minutes, the teacher gave directions in Spanish as Max wrote on the chalkboard, described the parts of his body, counted and recited...in Spanish.  He did a phenomenal job. 

Then we went with the English teacher.  The teacher provided the directions in English and he answered everything correctly...and in a Spanish-English accent.  As I explained later to Coley, Max is learning 3 languages....English, Spanish, and English with a Spanish accent.

The school seems  to be working out and Lila is excited to start in March (school year is March to December).  We're watching it to make sure the kids are progressing and I supplement with some homeschooling several days a week, but so far so good!

Hola Ola!

Hola Ola!

One of Panama’s best-kept secrets has to be the hundreds, maybe thousands, of really cool waterfalls (“cascada’s” in Spanish).  Waterfall hunting has become a great weekend activity as it seems that virtually all of the dozens and dozens of rivers here in the Cocle province have hidden waterfalls and swimming holes somewhere, often known only to the locals.  In fact, the first question I now ask when exploring Cocle’s dusty back roads and small pueblos is “Donde esta la cascada?” – where is the waterfall.  Inevitably a local will break into a smile and explain exactly how to get to his or her favorite waterfall and swimming hole.

On Monday I set out on another waterfall hunting expedition.  I took the afternoon off and drove about 25 minutes past Penonome – the capital of the Cocle province, past the “Tu y Yo” pushbutton on the edge of town (click here for a description of Panama’s world famous pushbuttons) in search of a massive waterfall that we’d seen from the Panama America Highway previously.

I took the third right past the Rio Grande river in a little pueblo called Chula Ve, and then drove about 10 km on improved dirt roads right to the base of one of the most spectacular waterfalls I’ve seen in Panama yet, The falls themselves are two-tiered, with a lower tiered fall that cascades into a perfect, deep-blue swimming hole.  

I hiked up past the first waterfall (very strenuous) to the river above and then hiked (actually it was more like bouldering) for another hour or so past hundreds of massive boulders, aqua-blue swimming holes and smaller falls.  The reward was an enormous upper-waterfall that I estimated was probably 100 yards high with a great swimming hole below.  There were no signs of humans anywhere, and it was more than a little eerie swimming in the pools below the falls absolutely alone.

I was told by a couple of locals I ran across when I was driving out that the land had recently been purchased by a gringo or “paisano” (Italian maybe?).  One thing; the hike to the upper falls is not for the faint of heart… It’s definitely a strenuous hike and navigating between the pools and over the top of some fairly massive boulders definitely carries its share of risk.  Probably not a good trip for kids unless they are older.

On the way out as the sun was setting, I drove up to the small pueblo of Ola which is nestled in a gorgeous valley between spectacular green mountains.  I stopped and asked an old woman in my broken Spanish  “where am I exactly?”  Her response:  “Ola…El lugar mas lindo en la mundo”  Indeed!

Here’s a few pics, but they don’t begin to do it justice.

Walking the Pan-American Highway

Every few months or so, I see a few interesting folks walking the Pan-American Highway.

For those who don't know, according to Wikipedia:

"The Pan-American Highway is a network of roads nearly 48,000 kilometres (29,800 miles) in total length. Except for an 87 kilometre (54 mi) rainforest gap, the road links the mainland nations of the Americas in a connected highway system. According to The Guinness Book of World Records, the Pan-American Highway is the world's longest "motorable road".

The Pan-American Highway system is mostly complete and extends from Fairbanks, Alaska in North America to the lower reaches of South America. Several highway termini are claimed to exist, including the cities of Puerto Montt and Quellón in Chile and Ushuaia in Argentina. No comprehensive route is officially defined in Canada and the United States, though several highways there are called "Pan-American".

The Pan-American Highway passes through many diverse climates and ecological types, from dense jungles to cold mountain passes. Since the highway passes through many countries, it is far from uniform. Some stretches of the highway are passable only during the dry season, and in many regions driving is occasionally hazardous.

Famous sections of the Pan-American Highway include the Alaska Highway and the Inter-American Highway (the section between the United States and the Panama Canal). Both of these sections were built during World War II as a means of supply of remote areas without danger of attack by U-boats."

I'm on this highway at least daily and every so often I see a few interesting folks, non-Panamanian, usually American, sometimes Australian or European.  They're biking the highway in pairs with bicycles loaded down with their gear, traveling on motorcycles and oftentimes just walking.

I think the most interesting one I saw was late 20-something guy walking along with a donkey packed down with his gear.  The first day I saw him he was in between Penonome and Anton.  The next day I saw him nearing Rio Hato traveling in the direction of Panama City.  Ok, I thought, I just have to stop and ask.

I pulled off the road onto the shoulder and stopped about 25 yards in front of him.  "Hi!" I shouted.  He replied.

"I just have to ask," I said.  "In 2 minutes, what's your story".

Well he proceeds to tell me that he's been walking from the state of Washington for about 1 1/2 years.  He picked up the donkey in Mexico to help him carry his stuff and he was going to keep walking to Panama City. 

I told him we lived just a few miles off the highway.  He was welcome to bring his donkey, rest a night, clean up, eat, etc.

His response, "Well I'm in kind of a hurry."  He couldn't say it with a straight face and I cracked up.  "Oh really?", I asked.

He went on to explain that he needed to get to Panama City within 8 days so he could fly to the Middle East for a friend's wedding.  He was hoping a farmer would take his donkey for a month or so and then he would be back to continue on his trip.  I gave him a granola bar and wished him luck.  Now that's a free spirit.

Another visit to the pediatrician

So during our visit to Bocas last week, my daughter Lila cut her foot on one of the many starfish while playing in the water.  There was actually a small puncture wound with about an inch long slice.  No big deal.  When we got back to the house that day, we cleaned it up, put on a bandaid and off she went.

Well yesterday we noticed it looked a bit infected.  There was redness down to the middle of her foot.  By the afternoon it had reached her ankle.  Decided it was time to make the phone call to our pediatrician in the city.  He recommended an antibiotic that I could pick up at a local pharmacy but suggested that we make the drive in the next day if it hadn´t improved.

Today, it hadn´t improved.  In fact it looked a bit worse.  So we made the drive into the city, my daughter and I, with me promising McDonald´s, candy, new toy, anything to get her to stop crying.  We finally pulled up to the doctor´s office on Balboa Avenue and she had pulled herself together.  We waited about an hour in a small 4 room office for our turn.  The doctor prescribed a stronger antibiotic and some cream.  The doctor´s visit was $45.00.  That´s without using any insurance.  The medicine totaled less than $20.00 and we were on our way.

While some things are more difficult to accomplish while living here, we´ve had nothing but positive experiences with the medical field, both with our interations with the professionals and in the cost associated with visits and medicines.  More importantly, cutting your foot on a starfish, not a bad problem to have.

Visit to Bocas del Toro

Took the kids to some friends´ house on the islands of Bocas last weekend.  We drove to the city (1.5 hours) then caught an Air Panama flight (1 hour around $150 round trip) to the main island in Bocas.  Our friends picked us up and we drove about half hour through the jungles of Bocas to their house on Starfish Beach.  What an amazing place.  We were there 3 nights.  It rained only at night and it was a bit cloudy during the day which is actually perfect weather to me. 

During the day, the kids played in the crystal clear water.  The tide change is maybe a couple of inches (vs. our beach where it can be 16 feet or more) so it was perfect for the kids.  We loaded all the kids up in the boat to explore the area.  We stopped at a beach a short distance away where every few feet there was another beautiful starfish.  As my daughter learned, they'll cut your feet if you're playing tag in the water and you step on one.  But otherwise, they're pretty harmless.

We went dolphin searching and found a pod of 4.  Really gorgeous animals.  Headed into town and saw a parade marching through town.  As always, my family wasn't wearing shoes.  But in Bocas, that doesn't really matter.  It is truly a laid back Caribbean town.  Full of shops, restaurants, hippies, backpackers, Americans, Europeans, Panamanians and of course bars.

So that evening we headed out to the bars.  As I told my friend, "one drink only".  Well after we had shared a few rounds of Panama Jack shots and enjoyed a visit with some friends who live in Bocas in a cabin on the water, we decided it was time to head out on the town for "that one drink".  It helps that our friends know Bocas so well.  We hit a few of the hotspots on the town including one bar where the boardwalk is built over a shipwreck.  We were warned, if you jump in, be careful of the shipwreck in the water, the cuts are really awful.

The next day we went out on one of those speedboats.  I think it's supposed to be only for lakes but we went waverunning and there were definitely a few times (mostly when we were airborne for 3 or 4 secs) when I wished I had put on a life jacket.  Then headed up a few of the rivers and canals that divide several of the islands.  I think I can honestly say that the canal from Starfish Beach to Chianginola is one of, if not the most, beautiful place I have ever seen.  Truly unbelievable.

We're planning a trip back in January.

Sunday afternoon 4 wheeling

Sundays are the same anywhere you live.  No matter where we live, we´re always searching for some way to kill time Sunday afternoons. 

The day started off a bit dreary and very humid with no breeze at all.  We went to the pool at 8:30 in the morning, the kids played with some friends, Ziggy met a Beagle friend and then we were home by 11am.  Ok so now what do we do with the rest of the day? 

Finally around 1pm, we couldn't stand it any longer.  We knew the tide was low so we decided to rent two 4-wheelers, load the kiddos up and take a right.  When you walk out onto the beach in Buenaventura, you can go left to cross a river.  This way takes you past a small fishing village, the President's weekend home, the soon to be Nikki Beach, Playa Blanca Hotel and Resort and then onto to Farallon.  If you look to the right and cross this river, you'll pass a small town called Juan Hombron and then nothing, nothing, nothing but a deserted white sand beach for about 4 miles until you reach an impassable river.  We decided to go this way.

We headed out and crossed the river noting that the tide was coming in.  We drove along at a nice clip - 40 kph or so - racing with a few dogs, spying a few rather large dead stingrays, chasing down a few seagulls.  After the town of Juan Hombron, the beach is absolutely deserted.  I did see some tracks from other 4 wheelers so someone had been down this way today but no footprints, no horse tracks, nothing else.  It was amazing and I kept thinking that this beach is probably pretty close to what it was like for the first explorers to come across this land.  It was completely untouched. 

With Max in front, we pulled off the beach to see what was beyond the tall grass line.  It was an absolutely beautiful river flowing parallel to the ocean.  And of course my second thought was Wow, I'll bet there are some big crocs in there.  Max asked if he could swim and I responded No Way even before he had finished his question.

We drove back to the beach and continued on for a few more minutes until we saw the mouth of the river opening up into the ocean.  Max and I were ahead and I slowly pulled up to the bank.  Something jumped into the water.  Coley and Lila drove up next to us.  I told him there was something in that river.  And that's when we both looked halfway across the river and saw what it was.  It was the head of a very large crocodile...probably a 6 or 7 footer.  We watched it watch us as it slowly crossed the river to the other side and duck under water.  Wow.  Definitely no swimming here.

I then looked behind and saw an unending trail of seashells that had yet to be discovered.  We moved our bikes away from the water and hopped down to explore.  The 4 of us collected some of the most beautiful seashells to date. 

We hopped back on, returning across the untouched beach, stopping to throw a dying pufferfish back into the water, inspecting the carcasses of some wildlife, waving hola to a Panamanian family.  We were barely able to cross the river back to the Buenaventura property.  A few minutes later and it would have been a long drive around the river but Coley was able to get both vehicles across while I waded with the kids.  We lost a few of the shells but Max was sure to hold tight to the sticks he had found. 

Isla Grande

On Friday we decided to take off for Isla Grande for a night. 

Isla Grande is a popular place in Panama that people simply know as "La Isla" (The Island). The island is inside the Portobelo National park, just 5 minutos by motor boat from the small town of La Guaira on the main land that makes its living out fishing and tourism.

Isla grande has a population of about 300 inhabitants and its surface is mostly covered with plants and trees and its shoreline is surrounded by coral reefs. It is one of the favorit panamaninan turist destinations and on holidays it receives visitors that fill its small beaches and its narrow town roads.

We headed out at noon on Friday with the 2 kids and Ziggy, our new puppy.  We took the highway until the turn off for Colon.  The total trip should have taken no more than 4 hours BUT we hit traffic and construction on the road to Colon.  There were a couple of times we were at an absolute standstill for at least 30 mins.  We finally arrived at the boat dock for Isla Grande 6 hours later.  Long time.  The weather was decent that night and we decided to stay at a place called Sister Moon.  Unloaded our stuff and headed into town - a short 10 minute walk - with the whole crew. 

The town is definitely a laid back Carribean-style setting.  We ordered hamburgers for the kids and seafood for us.  The food was decent as was the price.  I think the 4 of us ate and had drinks for $20.00.

Headed back home for the night.  Everyone was exhausted.  No AC in Sister Moon but it was a cool rainy night and with a fan, we actually were quite comfortable.  Everyone fell right to sleep but I have this problem.  I guess it's from watching too many Tsunami video clips and this happened to me on the San Blas Islands as well, but if I can hear the waves breaking and they're basically underneath me or the structure could slide into the water, I can't sleep.  I woke up at least 12 times thinking for sure we were all going to die while everyone else snoozed the night away.

Woke up the next morning at 5am because the kids were ready to go.  Headed to the pool for a quick swim and then into town again for breakfast.  Luckily some places start serving at 7am.  We hadn't gotten halfway through our meal when the clouds started rolling in.  I asked a local if the rain was coming and he said not until much later.  I didn't buy it.  Those dark clouds were rolling in too fast.  And sure enough the rain came and it came in sheets.  We hung out for about an hour and it started letting up but then it came down again.

By 9:30am, we had decided enough was enough.  The rain wasn't going to stop at least for half the day and we decided to pack it up.  We packed our things, took a boat back over ($7.00 total) and got into the car.  We could hear the Howler Monkeys as we headed towards Portabelo for the Fort ruins.  And the trip home was less than 4 hours with a stop to McDonald's in Colon.

We had a great adventure and I would do it again, but I think I'll wait until the dry season.

Ziggy Comet Hudgins

Ok so we got a puppy.  She´s very cute, 12 week old Black Lab, and after 1 day she already knows how to sit.

Here´s what happened.  We went to XS Memories Thursday night for dinner, the restaurant I wrote about a few days ago.  We´re finishing up our dinner and the owner brings out a 4 week old kitten who has no mother.  Black and white, very cute.  He set us up because immediately the kids were begging us to keep him.  (I guess our turtle, Baby, just isn't cutting it anymore.  Although he did run away twice, which in my eyes, counts as a real pet.)  So a few minutes later we´re walking out with a 4 week old kitten in a crate and I don´t even like cats.

The kids are very excited and start thinking of names.  Lila shouts out her suggestions "Napkin! Table! Tree!" 

Max offers his "Venus, Mars, Moon".

We decide that since he is black with a white tummy he should be named Sylvester, even though, as Max points out, the coloring doesn't exactly match Sylvester.  For example, he has a white foot or something like that.

In any case, we take him home and put the crate in Max's room.  We feed Sylvester, clean off the towel where he did his thing and try to play with him although he keeps running under the bed.  After we settle everyone down, Max explains that he's going to have to sleep in his room all night because if he lives, Sylvester will be scared.  Why didn't I think of this sooner???

Max wakes me up at 5 am because Sylvester is crying for food.  We feed him and hang out until the sun comes up about 45 mins later.  Max is really attached. 

We decide we have to play with him only in the bathrooms because he can't hide so easily except behind the toilet.

My nanny arrives a bit later and lo and behold, she has a severe allergy to cats.  Oh darn, I'm not going to be a cat owner.  So we break the news to the kids.  Max begins sobbing, oh so sad.  Lila tries to eek out a little tear for affect.  This is really hard for her.  The crying continues off and on for 45 mins.  Coley, who has always been the one to say no more dogs, finally caves.  "Fine, get a dog."

I promise the kids that I will not come back from the city that day without a puppy.  Ok, to keep this very long story short, I found a breeder in La Prensa, called, located the puppy, last of 13, bought all the gear and headed home.  Arrived home at 6pm carrying the puppy.  Max looks over and says "That's not a puppy."  "Yes it is."  "Well it's bigger than Sylvester."  Oh geez.

The kids quickly decided on a name, Ziggy after Ziggy Marley, Comet, because Max likes space.  So our newest addition is Ziggy Comet Hudgins!