Gigantic, a big, big LOVE

~Pixies ("Gigantic")

It's 2am. I should be asleep, but I'm full of sweets and coffee since I worked late tonight. So, I figured it was time to update all of my faithful followers on the latest travels to the Central American country of Panama (though, I never did really write about Europe, which I still should do at some point).

So...on to Panama. In short, I'm really glad I went, though my first foray into traveling by myself was a bit different than I pictured. It was a trip of many mixed emotions, varied experiences (some laughable, some enjoyable, some barely tolerable), huge amounts of sweatiness and hardcore cankles (what's up with that?)! After five days of sun and high 80s, the mid-40 degree days we're having in Seattle right now was a huge shock to the system! Sadly, I took fewer pictures than I meant to, and most of them are underwhelming at best. But, I found a few that will go along nicely with some stories from the trip!

Transportation in Panama consists of an insane amount of taxis who LOVE to rip off gringos, some personal cars (often utilizing the hazard lights for no apparent or logical reason), and these lovely works of art. Diablos Rojos (red devils). Look familiar? When school buses in the US are decomissioned, they are apparently sent to Panama. Paint them insanely, write the destination on the front window, charge $0.25, and that's your public transportation. Needless to say, I was strongly advised not to ride one, though I wish I had.

Those of you who know me are aware that I have a fairly large distaste for being a "tourist." I much prefer going off of the beaten path and meeting locals. But, since my days and transportation were limited, I decided to hit a few of the high points in Panama City. This, my favorite picture from the whole trip, is part of the ruins of a church in Casco Viejo, the old French Quarter near the canal (the French actually began the construction of the canal before the US took it over). My trip to Casco Viejo was fraught with hilarity. I woke up that morning with a terrible cold, but was determined to do some solo adventuring, so I set out on foot from my hostel through some fairly seedy parts of town to arrive at my even seedier destination. I think everyone should experience (at least once) being the only white person in a crowd of thousands and being one of the tallest (this wins you double-stare points), while simultaneously being cat-called in English and Spanish, trying to figure out where exactly you're going and protecting your belongings. It was FUN. The best part of the day, bar none, was on my walk to Casco Viejo when two police officers "pulled me over" in their van and told me that I should not be walking on the street I was on because (and I quote): "the bad guys will get you on this side of the street." Hmm. Luckily, Casco Viejo (where several parts of Quantum Solace, the new Bond movie, were filmed) had some very pretty views of the Pacific Ocean. Below, you can see the end of the Causeway (three islands connected to the mainland with earth from the canal excavation) and the plethora of ships (dotting the horizon) waiting to enter the canal.

The Miraflores Locks on the Panama Canal was an interesting experience. I think the excitement came more from having to walk around the museum with all of my luggage than seeing two gargantuan cruise ships leaving the canal, but it was still pretty cool. The canal trip takes roughly 24 hours to travel 50 miles (and wait a whole lot), and involves three locks. Miraflores is the first locks for a ship entering the canal on the Pacific Ocean side. They just passed an initiative to widen the canal, so I got to see some rock-blasting in progress. Perhaps the most shocking figure is the toll. Up to $240,000 for a large freight ship. Holy crap! Doesn't that water look yummy?

My hostel deserves its own blog post. Hostel Mamallena, though not in the most convenient or safe area of the city, had a surprisingly helpful staff, nice accomodations and story-worthy folks. My first night, I got a photoshop lesson from a Scottish photographer while inhaling intense amounts of his second hand smoke (the whole pack, I might add). The second day, while minding my business and eating my morning pancakes, I met a Colombian guy who took to making very specific observations about me ("you look young," "you're a very happy person," "you're cute," "you seem innocent," and it gets better...). So, for the rest of my time at Mamallena, I took to reading and relaxing on the front porch to escape the chain-smoking club, annoying drunk Americans from the south who thought they were God's gift to foreign and economic policy, CRAZY old Canadien men, the coke-twins and the Colombian. But, he kept finding me and instead of taking the hint when I went back to reading, started laying on the "compliments" even more, which culminated in "why are you so beautiful?" At this, I had to get up and leave before I barfed. The next day, exclaiming "suerte!" (what luck!), he gave me a kiss on the cheek to say goodbye while clutching a well-wrapped package (I'm guessing it was weed) to mail to himself and offering me a joint. Luckily, Al (a radical Irish cyclist who loves Beirut) dissolved the weirdness by asking for a kiss too. Thanks, Al.
But, of course, the best part of the trip was seeing my good friend Rachel marry her now-husband Horst Martens on the beach at Coronado following an intense drive through flooded zones and washed out bridges. I met so many special folks at this wedding (Colombian, Panamenos and American) whom I will always remember. Rachel had Dengue Fever the two weeks prior to the wedding, but was a trooper and either really was almost healed on the wedding day or was amazing at faking it. It's amazing to think of how the average bride would react to contracting a disease that could threaten not only her "big day", but also her life, but this woman is far from average. I always enjoy a wedding that comes together perfectly, but is done simply, smart and sans stress.

One of my favorite memories from the trip was when Rachel was asked at her bachelorette party (somewhat in jest) what her favorite physical trait of Horst's was. Her reply: "I dunno...his face I guess?" It was very clear to me from her answer to this and other questions that Rachel doesn't give two hoots about that crap. She loves Horst for Horst. It's not infatuation with fleeting good looks, success or riches. They are companions, best friends and lovers. It is so obvious how deeply their love runs by observing their interactions. That's a big, big love!

When we went hiking in the jungle my last day in Panama, between breathing heavily and sweating through my shirt, I asked Rachel what her favorite part of marriage so far was. "I love not having to leave and night and waking up next to him in the morning," she replied. Waiter, I'll have some of what she's having.
Felicidades, mis amigos. Dios les bendiga.