Posterous theme by Cory Watilo

Panama hats

The name, it turns out, is a misnomer. This symbol  of the tropics and Panama in particular, sold on every street corner, is not actually made here -- it's imported! Look at the labels: the hats are calidad de exportación, paja fina (literally translates as thin straw) and yes, hecho en Ecuador!

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So what do Panamians wear, I hear you ask? Well, quite a few wear the imported hats, but there are styles specific to different regions, and I honestly think they’re all stunning.  At the various festivities we’ve been to, we’ve seen many – the people of Panama enjoy wearing hats. We both particularly love the way the men from the Coclé region flip the front bit up!  I’m sure I’ll still come across a few different styles, but for now here are some pictures for you to feast your eyes on – I’ll leave you to decide which you’d choose if you were here with me. 

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Chocolate in Panama

When you think of Panama, it's white linen suits and Panama hats, right? Maybe the canal? But do you ever associate Panama with coffee, or chocolate?

Our Spanish teacher described a chocolate ball to us one day in class. I managed to get that it was something she'd seen via a Peace Corps worker, and that it was pure, bitter chocolate being produced by an indigenous group. But these were early days in Spanish class and I didn't get the full story. Imagine my delight when I was given a gift for my birthday, and in an aha moment, the blanks were filled in. I am now a Citizen of Chocolate!

Double-whammy delight was finding a blog by someone who has also fallen in love with Panama - thanks Meaghan for letting me link my blog to yours. I shall have to bake some of your cookies when I'm next in your favourite city...  http://chooseyourjourney.wordpress.com/

And many thanks to Bob for sending me down this trail...

Chocolate_in_panama

The legend

The Product: In the shady jungle of Panamá, cacao is cared for and harvested in the tradition of the local indigenous people. The making of these chocolate spheres is the ultimate experience of a high quality 100% cocoa product. Perfect for baking, or simply melt into water and spices for a delicious Aztec drink style, or with warm milk and sugar for an earthy hot chocolate.

The Collective: Our cacao is produced by indigenous women as individual or small co-ops. In this way they assure their economic sustainability. We strongly believe in building relationships with local farmers. Our goal is to participate in an environmentally sustainable land use that meets the economic need of people and in the protection of the canopy and wild life of the rain forest of Panamá. 

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https://www.facebook.com/pages/Citizens-Of-Chocolate/114552915269037

 

Leap year girl

If there was a time that I resented being a leap year baby, I don’t recall it. This is probably because my mom made it all seem so very special, helped me to develop a positive attitude to being different. I dare say she had a connection with dates – her own was one of those hard-to-get-excited-about post-Christmas but pre-new year birthdays, 27th December. And she already had one little oddity, my brother, born on the first of April twelve years before I came along.

There were special, big parties when there was a 29th, family photographs bear witness. Non-birthdays were celebrated on the 28th, mom determinedly maintaining that I was born in February. A small group of friends were invited to play games or picnic at the dam, no big fuss. But as I grew into adulthood, the arguments from friends were easily fallen for. ‘You were born the day AFTER the 28th, Carol, you should celebrate on the 1st of March.’  And so, with mom firmly in mind, I happily invoked a new tradition and learned to celebrate over two full days during the in-between years. Friends know I'll be happy to hear from them on either day -- and yes, even on the stroke of midnight of the 28th a hurried wish is happily accepted!

This year was different, I guess because we’re so much further west than you are, my friends and family. Along with the Facebook Leap Year group, I marked the clock ticking its way towards midnight in the east, keenly aware that as Panama greeted morning at 0601 on the 28th, members of the group in Asia and Australasia celebrated 1201 on the 29th! Added to the fun was the fact that in Latin America a15th birthday (Quince años) is huge, a cause for major excitement, with way more palava than for a 21st; this, my 15th leap year was akin to a ‘coming out’. Steve stepped in and secretly booked a most awesome tapas  restaurant with rooftop bar in Casco Viejo –  oh, the magical views of the skyscrapers outlining the modern ciudad de Panamá across the bay!

And yes, this leapling took full advantage and partied on. My Spanish class took our teacher to lunch on the 1st for an entirely different reason, but she was rolling with the fun of leap year and told the staff at the Mexican restaurant, who promptly whisked up a song with sombreros, chocolate ice cream and yummy home-made wafers – with a candle nogal

We take at least a week to recover from  leap day around the world, and so, one week on as I crawl back into birthday hibernation, Ihug to myself the best part of being a leap year child: the knowledge that no-one forgets us on our special day. I am still glowing in the warmth of all your wishes!

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Recommended
Tántalo hotel, restaurant and rooftop bar, Casco Viejo, Panama City
Los Cebollines, Punta Pacifica, Panama City 

Photographs
Steve, Ana Elena and Ellie -- many thanks!

PS  Facebook friends -- apologies  for the duplication of photographs already posted, but there are many people following the blog who don't subscribe to FB.  Also note that the red-eye gremlin got in -- no amount of editing has helped. Still... I'm posting the pix because I want you all to enjoy the party atmosphere!


Using lifts in Panama

People are very courteous in Panama, and this is most noticeable in a lift, where you greet everyone as you step inside. Buenos dias, buenas tardes or simply buenos. There is an instant chorus reply from those already in the lift.  This unfailingly sends me back in time – to my desk in a primary school classroom!

The lift system in Steve’s office block is quite different. There are lifts from the parking lot to the ground floor. From there you walk across the building to a second set of lifts to the offices. 

As with security in most office blocks these days, as a visitor I have to go to reception each time I arrive, hand in my ID, state which company or person I am visiting. I am then given a piece of paper with a barcode on it, which has to be kept flat or it won't work! This opens the turnstile to the office block lifts. And then, something new to me, I press the number of the floor I wish to go to on a touchscreen. The screen then indicates which lift to get into. (See the pic below). But then please note, once inside the lift, there are no buttons! So if I've got into the wrong lift or for some reason change my mind, I simply have to go all the way to the preset destination, and then hope it returns to the ground floor. Alternatively I could hop out at whatever floor it opens on, and start the whole process again from the touchscreen outside the lifts there! All this while desperately remembering to keep the barcoded flimsy paper flat -- I need it again to exit the building!

How odd then, within all this high-tech security, to experience a stuffy, airless lift – no aircon!!

Our apartment block doesn't have all the security, but it does have another fun feature. If you press a wrong floor number, you simply press it again to release it (like clicking a second time to deactivate a computer app).  And... the apartment block lifts have aircon... Bliss to lean into the cool air after any walk in the heat outside!

Best of all is that each level of the parking garage has a shopping trolley parked next to the lifts. If we're carrying a large number of bags, we  take the trolley to the car, load everything, take the trolley into the lift right up to our floor and unpack it in our kitchen! Just have to take it back down to the garage parking again. This definitely appeals! 

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Experiencing the Panama Canal

Thursday 26 January 2012. I sit at our diningroom table, gazing across the bay at the twinkling row of lights along the horizon, ships patiently waiting their turn in the canal. Slightly to the right, just where the Canal joins the Pacific, there is a different set of lights -- a really long line tiered by three or four more. The Queen Elizabeth or QE, luxury ocean liner, made her way through the Panama Canal today. 

And quite serendipitously, I was at the Miraflores Locks on a field trip with a group from EPA, the Spanish language school. We had fun watching some day trippers on cruisers and a training vessel change water levels together. And then a little later, as we exited the museum, we were alerted to another, bigger, vessel coming through. We stood in awe and excitement as the Queen Elizabeth eased into position with the help of eight engines (mules) that guide vessels on either side to prevent smashes into the sides of the canal.

The QE was built with the specs of the Panama Canal in mind, which makes her a 'Panamax' -- . With the width of each lock at 33.53 metres, and that of the QE at 32.31 metres, I don't need the rest of the specs to be told that she reaches the maximum allowable, weight, depth and length.

None of us wanted to leave the locks today, we were totally swept up in the moment. And even if I don't see anything quite so grand again, will I tire of watching ships go through the locks? I don't think so. It really is the most amazing engineering feat, something we all learn from our textbooks at an early age, but never really expect to encounter first hand. And each time I'm there I think of how intrigued my dad would have been. The setting is reminiscent of his beloved workyard, where locomotives for coal mines were repaired. I have happy little-girl memories of watching the cocopans swing along tracks as I watch the mules working in theirs here in Panama.

I hope my series of photographs gives you an idea of the size and grandeur of the QE as she went through -- especially when you compare the pictures of the four smaller vessels within the locks! Apologies for the rather wobbly video (I was standing on a table trying to hold my camera above the crowds) but again, it may give you some idea of the thrill. The cheers of the crowds from both ship and shore will remain long in my mind!

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PS If you would like to know a bit more... http://www.canalmuseum.com/ 

Learning Spanish as spoken in Panama

How lucky for me that the school is so close by. I walked down the street behind our block and headed to my first formal Spanish class on Monday. 

I'm confident that Olivia and friends have helped me to build a reasonably broad vocabulary over the last two months, but I'm keenly aware that I need to communicate in local dialect. My accent is lacking, sentence structure doesn't exist and I need to be pushed. I hope I won't drown too soon.

As I step into the school, I close the door to the fluidity of mother tongue communication. Everything, totally everything, here is en Español. I find my classroom and walk into silence. Introductions are quietly in English, guiltily acknowledging we don't yet have the skills to do so in Spanish. 

Our gentle, friendly teacher arrives, and guides us to our seats. She introduces herself and (we presume) welcomes us as her new group. Hablar, hablar, hablar... She finishes her sentence, and looks at us questioningly. We stare at her blankly, not one of us has a clue what she's just said!

I am back  in the EFL classroom working with foreign students, carefully giving an instruction or asking a question, all prepared according to the lesson plan...  But oh that sinking feeling as I look at the new group, uh oh... let's try again, shall we? Maybe a different approach? This teacher is experienced, she knows just how we feel. She writes it all down, speaks more slowly this time, and we attempt our shift into her zone.

The shoe is on the other foot now, I am the student who has to arrive on time, sit down, throw off the shyness, interact and absorb all that will follow in three hours. And then as I walk back home in the humid heat, feel the slight rise of panic at the volume, the number of verbs and new words we've had thrown at us. And this is only day one. I may not have to do the preparation, research and find props, but I sure am going to have to study and check things, and practico, practico, practico...  El aprendizaje del español, como se habla en Panama.

Think I'll just head off for a quick swim to clear the thick head... 

It's officially 2012 in Panama

And so it’s a happy New Year to all!

As I watch the BBC broadcast following the magic hour celebrations across the world, I research New Year traditions in Spanish speaking countries. At this stage, Spain is a clear winner, think we ought to head there next year. Coming, Lu?

Churros

Who can honestly resist the custom of churros with chocolate for breakfast on the first day of a new year? (The pic is ‘borrowed’ from http://www.123teachme.com/, story and recipe are there too.) 

Guatamalans celebrate the Western new year, but they also recognise the 18-month Mayan calendar, which gives an additional five days, a period called Wayeb. Mayans carried out specific rituals during this ‘time out of time’ – a period for being thankful for the fortunes of the previous year and looking forward to the positive energy of the next. There are fire ceremonies, sunrise and sunset ceremonies, and mid-day ceremonies e around Lake Atitlan. Hmmm, think somehow we got short-changed with only one extra day every four years!

And Panama, you ask? Well, as we drove back from the coast on 28 December, we chuckled at life-sized and larger characters propped against trees and gateways along the Pan American Highway. We pictured the strawberry farm outside of Somerset West  and decided there must be a tradition of selling scarecrows at this time of year.

Not so, this is Panama after all, and where, we are learning, there are always surprises. As we stood in awe at midnight, the enormity of tradition and cultural mores was striking. The skyline was alight, for as far as we could see, not with one enormous fireworks display which we had expected along the Costa Cintera, but with literally hundreds of displays across the city. And what makes it spectacular is that it's at all levels, from the beach to the roofs of the tallest skyscrapers.

And judging by the size of several rather large bonfires warding off the evil spirits and cleansing the way for the new year, my guess is that the muñecos (our scarecrows) are burning well. The strange thing here, is that unlike the guy of British gunpowder fame, these effigies can represent good and bad famous characters. Last year, these included Panama’s first Olympic gold winner! Sadly I don’t have picture, but do have a look at this link, http://www.thepanamanews.com/pn/v_09/issue_24/arts_01.html

Drinking is considered to represent an ancient ritual, recreation of the chaotic world which existed before the time God created a systematic way of life and universe. I'm told that hosting extravagant drinking parties on New Year’s Eve gives ‘permission’ for an unchecked drinking bash go all through the night. It’s a great excuse, and in any case with parties pumping and crackers deafening at after 2am, well… champagne, anyone?

Interestingly, no hooters, no ships tooting from the Panama Canal, and not a single siren!

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PS It's 9am and the music and loud party singing continues!

 

 

I did it!!!

Vertigo. Fear of Heights. Dizziness. Spinning world. Cold sweats. Pale to the point of turning green.

This weekend I faced that fear. I tackled it head on. 

We chuckle excitedly at the primitive little model of the waterfall and zip lines. There are four stages, five platforms. We'll start at the top and zigzag our way down. We emerge from the forest at canopy level of the beautiful Panamanian forest in El Valle de Anton. Everything wet and glistening, around us, absolutely breathtaking.

I stare down that zipline, and recoil, hugging the tree nearest to me trembling, weak at the knees, as our guide explains carefully what to do. 'Sit down in the harness, and lean back, you must lean back. One hand in front of you, holding the the rope from the harness, which is attached by caribiner to the pulley.The other hand goes a short distance behind the pulley, onto the zipline. This hand is your brake.'

I look at my heavily gloved hand, and try to make a fist. It's impossible, it's too thick. I have no control of my hand in this thing. How can I use it on a line while travelling at great speed at THIS HEIGHT? Head spins, I sit down, 'Can't do this'. Guide One shoots off into outer space, Alex follows, then Steve, and finally Shaun. And I panic. I picture myself midway across, upside down in my harness, dangling midair.

'I go with you?' Francisco, Guide Two, looks at me gently, dark eyes egging me on. 'Can't breathe,' I mutter. He explains that I'll be clipped to him, we'll go down tandem style, and I don't have to keep my paw on the zip line, I just have to hold the harness line, he'll do the rest. My head clears a tad, but I am a trembling leaf as he checks all the controls. 'Lean back, now lift your feet.'

We caterpault out and across, the forest whizzes by, therer is sound of water rushing -- I am flying high above the Chorro El Macho waterfall. He is a cowboy, Francisco, this is his world, his passion. I land on the platform in the middle of nowhere, shaking, but grinning. The others are astounded, quite gobsmacked. 

 I did it!!!

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http://www.panamatravelgroup.com/canopy-adventure-zip-line-in-el-valle-panama/

 

 

The wet season

Tell Carol not to come in the wet season, they told Steve – it rains and it rains and it rains. How true this is.

It bothers me when

I walk along sodden pavements, or need to cross a road, as there are always puddles lurking and pedestrians the usual victim. It bothers me that there is so much humidity in the air that the ‘DampRid’ bags are full within a week. And it bothers me when my hair won’t dry, or my clothes feel limply damp.

But it doesn’t bother me when

I don’t need conditioner for my hair, or when I reach subconsciously for the body cream for my notoriously dry skin, and put it down again ­­-- I hardly need it here.  Or If I get caught in a shower. I can just keep walking, it’s warm and I might not dry too quickly, but I won’t freeze as I would in Cape Town. And unlike Mali where red dust turned quickly to red squelching mud, I don’t have to face ruined pants or shirts. Mind you, I have to be careful when venturing out in flipflops – the splash back could sometimes challenge Jackson Pollock!

I surrender to the wet season when

there is a closeness in the air that warns, and darkness closes in, clouds laden. Just before the daily downpours the wind picks up and swirls. I hear the rain beating against the windows, or watch the ever-changing moods of the ocean and something deep inside me responds with quiet joy.

And I love to watch the way this city seems to drown for an hour or two each day. I am reminded of Madagascar, where the inevitability of it all goes hand in hand with the time of year. Water collects in roads, and drivers wait patiently to inch their way through.

We’re almost midway through December now, time for the rainy season to abate, I’m told. But today a mighty storm rolled in with crashing thunder and lightning dancing across the sea. Below me there is traffic turmoil. And today no patient waiting, sirens and hooters, pressed insistent and irate. There is general pandemonium  in Panama City. (Panamandemonium?)

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The corner closest to us seems to look like this most days!

 

Cycling along the Amador Causeway

It's not something you see very often in Panama city -- a bicycle, or cyclists. Today I found out where it all happens. Romy decided that Sirius needed some exercise, so it was 'C'mon you two, let's go hire bicycles'.

The Amador Causeway is beautiful, fascinatingly clear as you fly over the city. It is now very proudly Panamanian, but it hasn't always been so. Romy told us how proud she was to be standing with her people in 1999 when the US handed the running of the Canal over to Panama. Sustainably built with material excavated during the building of the Canal, the causeway serves as a buffer to protect the entrance to the Canal, but it also links four islands. Once a military stronghold for the US, it is graciously green, with lawns shrubbbery and palm trees line the road in colonial grandeur.

It's a treat to see how carefully it's being developed now for local and tourists to unwind and escape the concrete jungle across the bay. And on this narrow strip along the water, there is room for all modes of transport.  As cars ambled along enjoying the views to both sides, we cycled on our bicycle for two past picnickers and people strolling, young families with prams, others jogging, A dad on his skate board holding his daughter's hand to steady her wobble on a pair of brand new roller blades.

The modes of transport on offer for hire between restaurants, sailboats, ocean going yachts and souvenir shops had us chuckling. Anything from battery operated toy cars to mopeds and even a pedal-style surrey with a fringe on top -- for eight!!

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Sirius entertained as he joined joggers, peeped from the bag, or tucked in under Romy's arm, pink tongue hanging!

I'm glad I haven't yet written about Panama, the city, as it's still so much way bigger than me, there are intriguing layers to be revealed, some rubble, some gold. Today I was reminded of how much more there is to know. And as I gaze out to the horizon from the 24th floor of the concrete jungle, I smile. One more landmark in the map in my head -- the glint between islands in the setting sun? Yachts bobbing at anchor along the Amador Causeway!

For further info on the Causeway, try http://blog.caravan.com/amador-causeway-panama/ and for the Panama Canal (ncluding the Causeway, go to  http://www.pancanal.com/eng/panama/causeway.html