Frizz Head

When one moves, one generally foresees a few problems. However, one does not necessarily foresee the myriad of problems that did face me once I got to my apartment a couple of weeks ago. Of course, that's life. And, that's what I keep reminding my beloved mother who is adamant that she must come and not necessarily kill, but severely maul all those responsible for inflicting any type of discomfort on me (Thanks Mommy). But, as I say, that is life and the situation could be and could have been much, much worse. As I write this blog, almost everything has been cleared up. Thank the Lord for that, because it was nothing short of divine intervention.

Since no one particular story merits a telling in full nor do I actually have a full story about anything, I'll switch over to the bullet format (except that Internet Explorer always cuts my bullets off when I post images. Just know that there's supposed to be a bullet in front of the picture. Sorry about that. Use FireFox. It's way better.)

• Girls and their hair. Even if they seem not to care too much about how their hair looks, because, say, it's in a pony tail every day, they still care. It's just that the hair bothers some girls while they work (wink, wink). The fact of the matter is, we all care and we all absolutely hate it when our hair looks bad. Now, I've lived most of my life in Kansas and Oklahoma. It's pretty humid there in the summer, right? I was pretty sure I'd seen what humidity would do to my hair. I mean, I'd never spent an extended period of time in a really humid environment, but I figured Kansas and Oklahoma summers counted as that. Uh, whatever!
  
  It started happening about two weeks ago and it hasn't stopped. My hair just keeps growing. It has a life of it's own. It doesn't matter WHAT I do it's HUGE...and this includes the pony tail flying out behind me. It's enormous. And, I can't stop it. I've put in more mousse, used more special shampoos than I even care to admit, I've washed it, and I've not washed it. It just won't stop. That average humidity in the summer in Oklahoma of, at the most 50%, just doesn't hold up to the average humidity of somewhere in the vicinity of 75-80% (and that's just the average, mind you) that I live with every day. So, basically, I look something like Monica from "Friends" when they were in Barbados. It's awesome. (Thanks to Warner Bros. and "Friends" for the image.)


• Apparently every Wednesday evening is "futbol" night. Every Wednesday evening all the guys from the office drive out to Costa del Este (That's the only place we could find an open soccer facility with an hour open. There are not enough of those around here. I'm thinking I need to open a facility. It's a gold mine.) to play soccer for an hour. They let the girls play, if they want to. I, of course, having played soccer most of my life am happy to join in.
  
  I've learned three things since I started playing with the boys here: First, I've learned that, no matter how much these Latino boys say they are progressive, they are not (I learned that when they told me that girls only count for "half" a player when we were splitting up the teams the first time I played.). Second, when you show them that you actually do know how to play (apparently there aren't too many of those girls here), they do show you a bit more respect. And, lastly, I'm old. I am creaky kneed, sore lower back, aching feet old. Sweet mother. I'm gonna have to give some of this stuff up...someday.


• As for the apartment, well, after quite the struggle, almost everything has been taken care of. The electrician fixed the lights. The plumber fixed the gas. The dryer now works. They came and cleaned up all the construction mess that was still left in the apartment. I have hot water and the bathroom works perfectly.
  
  There are only two things left. One of the last two things is small. I don't have the remote for the gate to the parking garage. So, every time I need to drive in or out (12 different turns in the garage. I get nauseous every time I drive the car in or out!), I have to honk at the security guard. I just feel rude when I do that. Like, "Serve me slave!" Plus, half the time the guard doesn't hear you honk when you're at the gate...so you have to wait for like 10 minutes caged in like a pacing tiger. Sometimes people rev their V6 engines. Not me, though. The last thing that remains to be fixed is the ventilation of the dryer. I'm not quite sure why you wouldn't build in ventilation for a GAS dryer into a brand new apartment, but, there isn't one. And, currently, there's no place to vent the dryer. And, everybody has a dryer here. It's not like in other countries in Latin America where nobody has a dryer. There's no drying clothes outside here (reference the 80% humidity). The clothes actually get more wet! So, it's not like it would have been out of the ordinary to vent the dryer.
  
  Well, I can't very well run the dryer without ventilation. As nice as death by carbon monoxide poisoning sounds, I had to come up with some sort of a solution. I stood there staring at the dryer for a second. I do have access to a DD 200 (diamond hole coring rig), obviously, but I figured the building administration wouldn't like it very much if I just drilled a hole straight through the wall.
  
  Eureka, and I'm not talking about the vacuum cleaner (well, okay, so it only took me about 2 seconds to find a solution. But, I haven't used the word Eureka in, well, ever!). There's a tiny window up high in the laundry "space" (It's not a room in itself.). With my little rubbermaid step stool (which is awesome, by the way) I can just reach the window. I decided I would buy enough ventilation hose to string it from the dryer out the little window. The neighbors get a face full of hot, humid, carbon monoxidey air every time I run the dryer if their window is open, but I gotta ventilate somehow, even if it is a little white trashy. It's not like I have much of a choice. I'll send the neighbors to Oscar, the building administrator, if they come to complain about the hose hanging right outside their living room windows (HA HA HA!). It's only out there when I use the dryer anyway. Either way, Oscar is supposed to be talking with the plumber about installing the vent. We'll see. At least for now I can run the dryer without unintentionally committing suicide.


• When you're searching for a place to live, generally one of the things you really want to check out is the surroundings of said place, not just the inside. I was especially careful with that when I was looking for a place here because I'm such a light sleeper. For example, I wanted to make sure that the pool and social area weren't right below my window and that there wasn't any new construction beside the building (a difficult task here in Panama City). The one thing that's hard to notice in the middle of the day is the bar/night club across the street, cleverly hidden in a strip mall type line of stores.
  
  I guess you could say I'm beginning to get a little more used to the "boom boom boom boom boom" of Latin music coming from there until 5:00 AM every night of the week. It's starting not to bother me too much while I'm trying to go to sleep. But, just remember, the next time you're looking for a residence, make sure you check out the cleverly disguised strip malls. They might be hiding malicious buildings.


• I'm starting to feel much better about my Spanish. I mean, it's not like I couldn't speak and people couldn't understand me before, but there's a comfortability factor. I wasn't comfortable when I got here because I knew I was making a lot of mistakes. But, you know you're starting to do okay when complete strangers start complimenting your Spanish. I'm starting to get those compliments again. So thankfully, the rough transition back into "Spanish" mode is coming along nicely. The whole transition phase just tires you out. Your brain just wants sleep all the time.


• Crossing the street from my apartment to the office is such an unbelievable task, I had to write almost an entire blog about the experience. It wasn't until my Panamanian friends, nonetheless, asked me the following question that my fears were completely realized: "Kristin, how exactly is it that you cross that street every day? We won't even cross it!"
  
  I mean, it's a four lane road. You have to time it just right. You step out in the first lane while all three other lanes still have cars in them and time it just so that as you cross into each lane, there's a car in front of and behind you, but not ON you! It really is quite similar to the game Frogger (Gotta love Atari! Thanks for the reference, Genn.) So, just in case you thought I was exaggerating about crossing the road, take it from the Panamanians, it's insanity... and I live it every day (Unless I drive to work. Then I'm doing the same thing...in a car...he he he he [evil laugh]).


• The other day Jose (the fellow I have hired to help me out with a few things like buying a car, buying curtains and shades, waiting in line for me for five hours at the electric company to have my electricity turned on, basically helping me keep from being swindled since there's no hiding the fact that I'm a gringa with this hair, etc.) and I were measuring my windows for the shades I was going to buy. Come to find out, there is almost two inches of difference from floor to ceiling from one side of my bedroom to the other. TWO! I told Jose I thought he was crazy, so we measured it three different times. Sure enough, it was true. (I used my level on the floor, and floor seems to be level. So, the problem lays within the height of the ceiling. Two inches is enough to make you walk sideways, and I knew I wasn't walking sideways.and two inches would make you swerve while you walked!)
  
  I was talking to everybody at work about it and all the Panamanians go, "Oh, yeah. The interior finishing of all the buildings in Panama is terrible." I'm like, "Oh, nice, that's good to know." Then everybody in the whole office started talking about how bad their apartments were too! I'm not sure how my blinds are going to look. We shall see...


• Another complaint I have about the building is an interesting one. I've never lived in a high rise apartment. In Spain, I lived in a small building. So, I'd never actually been faced with this next thing: the fact that all service personnel, regardless of whether they are standing with me right there, have to come in the service entrance, which is far on the other side of the building. The other day the guy came to fix the dryer. He was with me. He had one small tool box. I mean, it's not like it was anything crazy like he had mud and dirt all over his shoes or anything. But, they made him go all the way around to the service entrance anyway. Apparently all blue collar type workers must enter there. Come on people. He wasn't going to mess up the precious lobby. I don't like that at all.


• Last weekend I got together with some co-workers and their families to play Pictionary (Chilean edition). It was nice to get to know some of the ladies, as I work with all of their husbands! And I tell you, I haven't laughed so hard in all my life. The men were FURIOUS that the women kept winning. They equated it with us being able to draw a line and then one of us could guess that it was the word was, like, Russia! We told them it was ladies intuition.
  
  I also learned lots of new words trying to understand the words that were on the card and trying to guess in Spanish. That made for some laughs too, though...as did when Christian's chair broke and he went crashing to the floor while all the time yelling, "Stop the timer! Stop the timer!" The boys really did hate it that we killed them...every game! It was great revenge...you know, since we're "half a person".


• For a fun and interesting twist on the Gold Cup (the North and Central American soccer championship), Panama played the US in the quarterfinals of the tournament. I was going to go watch the game at one of the many locations to do so here in the city until I passed by the hoards of people lining Avenida Balboa four hours before the game started, crowding in front of the giant TVs. I made the smart decision to watch the game from the comfort of my own home where I could cheer for the US and not fear for my life. They're still mad at me anyway because the US won on a penalty kick. It was a clear penalty. There's no room for complaints.


• I've heard the hallelujah chorus several times since I got to Panama but none so loud as this past Saturday. I was out trying to buy shades for the two giant windows I have in the apartment and three smaller ones. As of right now, the whole of Panama can see in my bedroom and living room and the people in the high-rise apartments beside my building can see me shower. And, trust me, nobody wants to see that people (I've been showering in the dark these last weeks.). Anyway, Jose and I were driving around to different places looking for shades and we came across a used car lot where he happened to know the guys. In this used car lot is this beautiful car that looks like new. It really looked great. So, of course they had a high price on it. So, I proceeded to haggle with the car dealers for the next two hours. I actually did better than Jose did with getting the price down. I'm not sure why, either, because all used car dealers in Panama City are Muslim Indian. All of them, without fail. I went to many a lot with Pamela and every owner of any used car dealership is Muslim Indian. Jose tells me that the service industry here in Panama is very segmented (Apparently the Chinese own all the laundry facilities and so on.). Because of their religion I'm seen as inferior, of course. But, I was able to bring them down by 2000 dollars to my price range! They wouldn't shake my hand on the deal (I'm a woman.), but they shook Jose's and I had my car! I had to wait until the following Monday to pick it up since I had to get the money out of the bank. But, I'm now the proud owner of a 2006 Suzuki Grand Vitara. (You'll have to pardon the picture. I can't get a decent picture of the car in the parking garage because of the way the light comes in.)


• Citi Bank Panama is quickly becoming my arch nemesis. It took me 3 hours to just make a withdrawal out of my own savings account at the bank on Monday morning so I could go get the car. Needless to say, I have begun to hate Citi Bank with all my soul. As soon as I have enough banking history in this country (in four or five months), I'm headed to another bank. They're pretty lucky I didn't have a weapon in my purse (I'm kidding. I'm kidding. But, dang I was mad. My money being held hostage. Seriously.)


• I have driven many different places since Monday, several places in rush hour traffic even. Believe it or not, I've been complimented on my driving in the craziness that is Panama City. I guess I learn fast. Those of you who come to visit me, be forewarned, however. You'll probably need to bring a few extra pairs of undies.


• Finally Pam and I have come to an agreement as of late...now that we both have cars, that when someone feels a bodily function coming on, we just kindly say "roll down the window". Spanish or English is accepted. However, it is not acceptable to not give warning. I accidentally forgot the other day and almost killed us both.


• Did I mention how AWESOME it is to finally have a car!? I've been going everywhere I can. And, the GPS maps I bought for Panama City are just pretty dead on. The Panamanians kept telling me, "No way that will ever work." Wrong. It may take you the medium length route on main streets rather than cutting through the tiny side streets, but you sure as heck get there. Thanks Panama Zone guy for making maps of Panama (Garmin doesn't have maps for Central America)


• On August 1st I get to take my first hike into the rain forest/jungle. I'm going to get a good look at the monkeys, giant lizards, and other animal and insect life. I'm really excited. Believe it or not, it's an island located right in the middle of the canal, in Lake Gatún (the man made lake that's the middle route of the canal). It's in the "interior" of the country, as the locals call it. That makes it only about 30 miles away, though. It's a national preserve called Isla Barro Colorado. You have to have special permission to even step foot on the island. It's run by the Smithsonian Institute (Yes, that Smithsonian.). I'll let you know how it goes. I'm sure I'll have some fun pictures...as I have to wear long socks and pants and tape my pant legs so nothing creepy crawly gets in! I have to wear long sleeves too. Don't worry, Mom, I'll coat myself in repellent too.

And this post has grown way too long... AGAIN. I'm not sure anybody is still reading any of these because they're so long. Sorry guys.

Just for hanging in there with me, I leave you with these closing thoughts: Kittens Inspired By Kittens



Peace out!

---

A Tear for a Container Full of Crap

Sometimes you have weeks where so many things happen at once that you just can't keep up. The kind of week that flies by so fast you don't even know what day it is. That's the kind of week I've had. It whizzed by like an F-16 flying at mach 3. I wouldn't go straight to saying that I had fun. I did, however, have a very tearful moment. A happy tearful moment.

I started this week with great hopes; very high hopes that my small twenty foot container would clear customs and that I could move into my apartment. Praise to the Lord, that's exactly what happened. I got an email from Abdel at Canal Movers, the company in charge of the second leg of the move. He said my things would be out of customs by Tuesday evening and that they would bring the container to my apartment on Wednesday.

Sure enough, I was sitting at my desk on Wednesday morning and I got a call that the container was on a truck and headed my way. I packed up my stuff and headed across the street, which I successfully crossed without being hit (For information about the crossing of the street, please see previous blog post "Crossing the Amazon in Flip Flops".)

I arrived at the apartment before the movers. I hadn't been in the apartment since I rented it at the end of May and still didn't have the key as the building administrator, Oscar, still had the keys. He still had the keys because he said he was going to get the air conditioners "tested" and also get the place cleaned up of all the "new construction dirt" and filthy bathrooms that the construction workers had left. So, of course, I was assuming that the apartment would be ready to move into. Boy was I wrong.

Oh, and I did forget to mention that Oscar had told me that he would meet me at 7:30 AM at the building so I could drop off all of my luggage that I had before I went to work, since I wouldn't have time to go back to the temporary apartment to get the stuff later. So, I arranged for a cab at 7:15 and headed over. Nobody. Only the security guard was there. And, they're really tight with the security in the building. That's a good thing. But, it's not a good thing when I need to get into the building! Thankfully the guy was very nice and he let me leave my stuff in the lobby while I went to work. He kept an eye on it for me. It was still there safely when I returned. Needless to say, I made very good friends with that particular security guard. Every time he sees me now he yells, "Hi Kristine!" (That's how you say my name in Spanish). It's good to be friends with the security guard.

Well, back to the uncleanliness of the apartment. So, Oscar opens the door and the place is horrible. On top of that, there was a guy waiting for Oscar like me. He comes in with a door. Like, a bedroom door. They hadn't put the spare bedroom door on. So, he's there making an even bigger mess. He had to shave a bunch off the door, so there are wood shavings and drywall dust and busted tile (he had to remove some of the tile molding to put the door on.) EVERYWHERE. Then, as I go to turn on the lights in the bedroom, they don't work. So, then I try to wash my hands with hot water. There isn't any. I'm just thinking to myself, "You have got to be kidding me." But, here's the best news of all: the air conditioning isn't fixed yet. There was no air. I was to do all the moving in the sweltering humidity.

Just then, the intercom rings. Guess who's container has arrived?

Yes, in the middle of the heinous mess, my container arrives with all one million boxes to be carried in by movers tromping through all the dust and wood shavings. I was pretty mad. But, then again, what was I gonna do about it? I was actually just happy my things had arrived, which brings me to the tearful moment.

I head downstairs and as I exit the elevator and start to the front doors, I see it. The big, ugly, maroon colored container. The last time I saw that container, box after box of my few, beloved things was being loaded onto it and then boarded in by a sheet of plywood and a few 2x4s in Tulsa, OK. And now, here it sat, right in front of me thousands of miles away in Panama City, Panama.

As they opened the doors and they began pulling the nails out of the 2x4s, I have to say, I teared up a little bit. Very rarely do I like to show much emotion, as those of you who know me know very well. But, there it was. I had never been so happy in all my life to see an ugly 'ol maroon twenty foot container.

As the boys (There were about eight of them and then the foreman from Canal Movers) removed the boards and I saw the precious boxes in there...barely smashed... I have to admit, a small tear fell. I had no idea how happy I would be to see the stuff and to see that it was barely damaged at all. I figured with all the banging around from the truck, train, and boat, things would be completely smashed. Not even the empty boxes that were "filler" were smashed. What joy to have my own stuff to make me feel at home!

Pedro, the foreman, then made all his boys introduce themselves to me and shake my hand. It was very nice and professional. In fact, they were much nicer than the two guys who packed up my stuff in Tulsa. And, there were so many of them, they worked so fast I could hardly keep up! I had to mark each box off my inventory list that the guys in Tulsa had created for me. They were running in with box after box after box as I would find the box on the list and what it was and direct them to the correct room. I really felt like a big 'ol bossy jerk. But hey, that's their job, right? They even had it down to a science. I'm not even sure how they got some of that stuff in the elevator. But it all fit...even the desk that wouldn't fit into any of the doors in my house! In fact, the desk fit just right through the door. I was kind of chuckling when I saw them bring in it in (Please reference blog "Ziva's a Traitor" for explanation about the desk.). Pam (My Mexican co-worker and good friend. She says she's my Mexican twin, actually. We decided that was truly the case after the farting contest we had the other night at the temporary apartment. It's been a long time since I met anybody who could keep up with me. But, man alive...she even BEAT me! She's going down next time, though.) called me in the middle of it all and I was yelling take this here and take that there. She just starting hysterically laughing at me and said I sounded like a bossy 'ol hag!

The movers also unwrapped and unpacked stuff at a rapid pace. Everything was covered in bubble wrap, plastic backed brown paper, tape, and a million other packing type materials. It was a pain to get all that stuff out. But, with eight people doing it, it goes really fast. They got all their part done by about 2:30 or 3:00, and that includes taking a lunch at noon. I was impressed.

That left me with about 25 boxes to unpack myself...things like clothes, shoes, bedding, and small trinkets that they don't have any idea where it all should go. I've been working on that for the last three days. I'm making progress. But, man alive, moving from a house to an apartment isn't so easy. There was a lot more storage space in the house. I'm having a hard time finding places for all my stuff! Who knew. Thank goodness I threw away so much when I was packing up in Tulsa. If not, I wouldn't have space for anything at all!

So, the movers all left after Pedro and I verified that nothing was missing or damaged (Can you believe it, in ALL of that, the only thing that was damaged was my desk chair and they did that when they were opening it with the box cutter. It's just cut a little bit on the top. Nothing too serious.), and there I was in a filthy apartment with tons of boxes, no lights anywhere but in the living room, no hot water, and absolutely no air conditioning. (Please remember, this is the tropics.)

I called the building administrator, Oscar, again. He said they'd come fix it. I wasn't so sure, so I packed up my stuff while it was still light outside and I could see, so that I could go back to the temporary apartment and sleep if I needed to.

About the time I was getting ready to leave, there was a knock at the door. It was the air conditioner guys. They put some fuses in the air conditioners and then they worked. I'm pretty sure I head the halleluia chorus play. But, that was the only thing that got taken care of. So, I had to spend another night on the couch at the temp apartments. I had been sleeping on the couch almost since the day I got there because my Mexican Twin snores all the time. I'm such a light sleeper, there was NO sleeping with that. I was quite disappointed that I couldn't sleep in my new apartment. But, I was happy that everything had arrived...even if it was carried in by a bunch of guys traipsing through wood shavings and plaster dust.

The following day, I headed to the apartment early. After grabbing breakfast from the breakfast sandwich lady on the corner by the office, I headed up to the mess that was my apartment. I tried Oscar again. No answer.

The cable/internet guys were slated to come at 10:30. I have to say that I had lost any hope whatsoever and I figured they wouldn't show. But, believe it or not, they showed up a half hour early. They got everything set up for me after quite a lot of furniture moving. They had the jacks messed up in the wall. The cable jack was actually the phone jack and vice versa. So, I had to move the couch and chairs and desk to the other side. It was awesome.

After about 2 hours, they had everything installed. I wasn't so happy to have internet that I teared up, but I was really happy! It's amazing how disconnected you feel without internet. Interesting how times have changed so much.

I even have a DVR. It looks just like the one I had in Tulsa. I even get a CBS and an ABC station out of Atlanta (Who knows why it's Atlanta...but I don't care. I get the channels!) so I can watch Lost and How I Met Your Mother...and okay, I'll admit to watching it, even though it pains me because it takes away from my cool points. I can also watch Big Brother. I'm so happy!

I spent the rest of the day trying to get a few more boxes hooked up and get everything hooked up to the internet (the wireless router and the Vonage phone). I also spent the whole day hoping that somebody would eventually come to help me fix the gas and the lights in the bedrooms. I had just about resigned to the fact that I was going to have to stay at the temp apartments again when there was a knock at the door.

I open the door and it's the air conditioning guys from yesterday. They tell me they are there to fix the gas and the lights. I just about cried of sheer happiness. They fixed the gas really quickly. It was just a main switch somewhere. Then the guys tell me they can't fix the lights because security wouldn't let them come up with their tools...it was after five and after five there can't be any construction work going on. So, they headed for the door. It wasn't their fault security wouldn't let them come upstairs with their tools.

So, as they caught the elevator, I frantically called Oscar. There was NO way I was letting those guys leave. They didn't even show up until almost 7:00. Thank goodness he answered his phone. I explained really quickly what had happened and he hung up and called security really fast. We caught them downstairs. They were able to come back up.

The lights weren't quite as easy to fix as the gas had been. They spent about two hours trying to figure out what the problem was. The important thing is that they did figure it out. I didn't have to go back and spend the night at the temp apartments after all. I was so happy!

That night I made a run, well, actually I made a "walk" to the grocery store for cleaning supplies and some quick food items. Boy was that a mess! I have GOT to get a car. I'll explain that situation a little later. Thankfully the carry out boy helped me get a cab and get the cab all loaded up with all my stuff. So, now I even had some stuff. I gotta go again. But, it's just such a mess trying to do that with a taxi.

Anyway, I've made some good progress. As I mentioned earlier, I only have six boxes left. Yay! Pam and I decided that I needed to get out of the house tonight, so we went to a movie. And, let me tell you, that was awesome. For only nine bucks (usually it's only 4 bucks to go to the movie), you can see the movie in the VIP room. What is that, you ask? Well, it's awesomeness! You have your own leather recliner. Yes, that's right, a recliner. Then, there are waiters. You order what you want and they bring it to you to your recliner, which has a little table that folds out over your lap. I'll try to get a picture of it to post. It's the best thing that EVER happened to a movie theater!

As I've already written a novel here above, I'll just leave a list here of some other funny, interesting, or just plain stupid happenings from this last week.

• I've been wondering what exactly is wrong with me since I got here to Panama. Sometimes I am having serious trouble understanding the Panamanians. I mean, my Spanish is pretty good, or at least that's what people tell me. I understand everybody else. Why I can't understand the Panamanians? I was beginning to think I was stupid...that is, until Anita (from Peru) and Pamela (from Mexico) and I sat down for dinner the other day. Anita started talking about how she can't understand the Panamanians for the life of her! I yelled, "THAN YOU!!!!11!!!11!" I started asking around even. Most of the native speakers from other countries than Panama do have a hard time understanding. So, now I don't feel so bad! It makes me laugh.


• I need a car, okay, since there's no public transportation here and catching a cab isn't always very easy. Well, I have about half of the money to put down for the type of car I want. But, I need financed for the rest. I called the bank the other day. Get this: banks don't make car loans in Panama. What the heck? Seriously? Wow... So, I went over to the Kia dealership today because the Sportage is one of the cars that I was interested in. I thought for sure they finance. Very few do financing, actually, for foreigners here in Panama. But, this dealership sure does. They'll finance me at 21% interest. TWENTY ONE PER CENT. Are you kidding me? I just kind sat there and looked at the lady. So, anyway, I'm looking into other options. They are few and far between. I've got to talk to my bank there in the US...because paying the fifty dollar fee for international transfers of money will still be cheaper than paying 21% interest. Jiminey Christmas... I'll keep you posted.


• We're making progress at the office with the furniture situation. All the furniture looks to be almost put together. The bad news is, it's pretty much the same as the communal office I have mentioned before, only with three times the people. It's basically just a table with six spots...only there are four of those tables. There are only two spots at each of the tables where your computer is not visible to every single person in the office when they walk by. So, after a good fight with the boys (I'm the only girl on my team.), I've been allowed to sit at one of those spots at our table. Sometimes, the machismo down here is okay. It can work to my advantage if I put on the "charm". Latin guys sometimes can be manipulated much easier than American guys. He he he he he (That's my evil laugh.). Either way, it's still a communal office. We're all in the same boat. There's no privacy for picking your nose or scratching (wherever you like). It's not the best, but it'll have to do.


• Laying in your bed at night staring at the Panama City skyline is not the same as the view from 76th E. Place in Tulsa, OK. I have to say, I could just stand, sit, or lie there staring out the window for hours at a time. The view is sweet.


• Vonage is the most awesome invention on the face of the planet. Being able to call anybody I want in the US and have them be able to call me just like I was living in the states is unbelievable. Just seven years ago when I was in Spain, I couldn't afford to call mom and dad or Kara, let alone any friends. And, they were paying 300 bucks or more a month to talk to me. Now, with my high speed internet and only 24.95 a month, I can call anybody I want in the states and they can call me. You gotta love technology. It's like I'm just three hours away again like I was. (PS: If you want the number, just let me know. I can email it to you.)


• They have pancakes here! Nobody ever has pancakes. They always think a pancake is a crepe. But, they have honest to goodness real, American pancakes here...and the stuff to make them at the store!


• They also sell Kraft macaroni and cheese. Woohoooo!


• Groceries are not cheaper here. I was so hoping they would be. But, when a box of dryer sheets costs you 6.95, you know it's gonna be an expensive trip to the store.


• No matter how many times you see the canal, it's still amazing. I'll be back a million times I'm sure.


• When you put three Panamanians, a Mexican, Peruvian, and an American together for dinner, you never know what might happen. And, I have the pictures to prove it.


• I never knew I could love the secondary audio function on my TV so much. But, seriously, Chuck Norris' dubbed over voice is just NOT the same. He loses some of his intimidation!


• Adjusting to a new culture is a million times easier when you have your own furniture, your beloved Superman pillow, vonage, the internet, and cable TV. I lived the hard way once (in Spain). Sure, you're completely immersed, but it's also rough. I like this way better. I can still be immersed, I just have my own stuff to fall back on!


• And let me say again: leather recliners at the movies? AWESOMENESS in physical form!


• Breakfast sandwich lady caddy corner from the office every morning. For a 1.25 I can have one of the best breakfasts ever. Sweet!


• Taxi to the office: 3.00 dollars (Yes, it's that cheap here...but it's not easy to get a taxi.) Breakfast sandwich: 1.25. Coffee at the office: free. Busting out the "I'm just a little girl and I really want to sit at that desk" card to get the desk you want at work: priceless


• Having people from the other tall buildings be able to see straight in the window into your shower... not so great. Showering in the dark is a little harder than it looks. You'd think after this many years of shaving my legs, I'd have the tough spots memorized. Not so. Good thing I packed some band-aids.


• When one whole wall of your bedroom is windows, it would be great if you would hurry up and buy curtains so the whole of Panama City can't watch you sleep. Not to mention the fact that the sun rises so early at absolute full power. I wake up and think it must be 11:00 AM and it's 6:00.


• And, finally, I had forgotten to post this picture. My best buddy Gennifer saved the best gift for last. On my last night in the states, we're standing there in my room in Kansas packing and all of the sudden Gennifer says, "Oh, wait here. I have to give you your final gift. I'm thinking, "Okay, cool. I just hope it's not big. I don't have much room left." I'm standing there rolling up a t-shirt and see these doll hands come around the corner. She got me doll hands on sticks! Waahaahaa... If you don't know why that's so funny, please reference the Lawrence Welk SNL skit in my blog post "This Little Piggy Went to Market. In the photo, I'm reenacting one of the funnier moments in the skit.

Peace out dudes.

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Independence Earthquakes

Earthquakes are scary. It's not like I've never thought about that before. I have. I really have. I've seen the pictures of the damage. I remember what San Francisco looked like after the earthquake during the World Series.

But, I don't think you're understanding exactly what I'm saying. Earthquakes are poop in your pants, visions of dying, running away screaming, crying for your mama scary. This girl from Kansas isn't used the earth moving beneath her feet. She's used to the sky opening up and swirling and destroying everything in its path like a bull dozer the size of the Statue of Liberty (Who's crown, by they way, has opened to the public for the first time since the attacks. Yay!). But the Earth beneath her feet was always firm.

But, that is what I awoke to at 1:49 AM on July 4th, 2009. I just happened to be sleeping on the couch in the living room of the temporary apartment in which I'm staying. All four of us in one small, two room apartment became too much when my roomy began snoring louder than a jet taking off...three feet from me, so I had moved out there. All of the sudden I jolted awake from this harsh and loud shaking. I just couldn't figure out why I was shaking.

I wasn't cold. I was sick, so I thought it was possibly a dream since I had really been out of it the last couple of days. But, then I kind of sat up on the couch and braced myself. I looked at everything else and it was shaking too. The pictures on the wall, the candles on the table. The windows were making a lot of noise. And, did I mention that I am on the 21st floor of a high-rise apartment? So, honestly, I just laid there trying to figure out what was going on.

In all the research that I did on Panama, all I ever found were good things. It's beautiful. The people are nice. There are lots of beaches. It's cheap. It's safe. Never did I read anything about it being in a seismic area. Ever. So I honestly was having a hard time putting together in my head that it was an earthquake I had just felt. Of course, being the American I am, I honestly just assumed it was a bomb and that some terrorist cell in Panama had figured out there was and American in the building and decided to just go ahead and take it out in its entirety. My mind would just not register that it was an earthquake.

After about two minutes or so my other two roommates (one roommate had stayed at another co-workers house that night) emerged from their rooms. I was still perched on the couch waiting for the building to collapse. Pam came out first. I just sat there and looked at her. Finally I choked out, "What was that??" She didn't answer. Then Silvia showed up. She was yelling something about an earthquake and how she was gonna die and was kind of walking around in circles like she was crazy.

That kind of brought us out of our trance and we were all laughing and coming to the consensus that it had been, indeed, an earthquake. I went and changed my underpants and came back and we all talked a little more. Silvia turned on her computer and immediately found a site that registered seismic activity all over the world and it had already been documented as a magnitude 6.0 on the Moment Magnitude Scale. And, let me tell you, that's a large sucker. It was centered some 40 km from Panama city (See the USGS page about the quake.

Needless to say, my Independence Day began with a big 'ol shake and a bang. Thankfully there were no casualties anywhere. There was very little damage. Pam and I walked over toward the office yesterday and we saw a collapsed building in the street. We're not sure if it was from the earthquake or if they were doing construction and that knocked it down. Either way, it was a pretty crappy, uninhabited building, so nobody was hurt.

Now that I've told the exciting earthquake tale, the other findings of the week are not so exciting. In fact, I barely remember what all I was going to write. Actually, I don't remember at all. (I think that has more to do with the screaming Mexican next to me than my brain. Mexico's playing in the CONCACAF Gold Cup and she's going crazy. She hasn't stopped yelling since the game started actually. I love having roommates.)

I'm still waiting on my things to clear customs. Hopefully everything will be cleared sometime this week. I'm hoping by Wednesday, in which case I would hope that the moving company would bring my things to the apartment on Thursday. But, you never know. This is Panama. And, as nice as the people are, everything moves at its own pace, and it's not a fast pace. As we've found out, if it's Monday and they tell you it'll be done by Wednesday, you better ask which Wednesday.

So the adventure continues with my roomies. I'll just be glad to be able to move into a place of my own. The next obstacle, besides my things clearing customs, will be finding a car. Financing may be an adventure. It may be harder than first thought for me to get financing as a foreigner. We'll see.

Until next time. Peace out dudes.

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