In a world where Kim Jong-Il's approval rating has plummeted to only 120% in North Korea and where there are mothers on the street like this one:
Sometimes you just need to get away and have a relaxing weekend at the beach. That's what we (my Mexican buddy) and I decided to do a few weekends ago. Pam, the buddy, also had a friend from Colombia visiting (Jessica), so we took the opportunity to show her some of Panama as well.
On Saturday morning we headed out bright and early to catch the ferry to the island of Taboga. It lays just a short 12 miles off the coast of Panama City which translates to about 45 minutes on the very slow ferry boat. But, the ride is a very picturesque one as you cross the entrace of the Panama Canal and can see the Puente de las Americas (Bridge of the Americas...the entrance to the canal and also where the Pan American Highway crosses the canal.). We saw some very large fish (maybe Marlins. I don't know anything about fish.) jumping and also a pretty big group of dolphins. Some giant birds followed us the whole trip and were swooping around the boat trying to fish. I was hoping they didn't come too close to where we were sitting as they had some serious beakage going on. I could just see one piercing my arm.
We arrived at the dock in Taboga about 9:00 AM. As we disembarked, I saw this cute little island that looked like it just fell out of a movie. You know the movies I'm talking about. The movie that takes place somewhere in a tropical country where everybody is always sweating because it's always humid, but the beach is really pretty and the houses are colorful with hammocks on the front porches. That's the kind of movie I'm talking about and that's exactly what it looked like. The dude from the bed and breakfast where we had made a reservation for the night (Called Cerrito Tropical. I'll explain what that means and why it's called that in a minute.) met us there and we grabbed a taxi to take us to the hotel.
Now, when I say taxi, I mean a tiny little truck with a wooden bench in the back for us to sit on. As for that matter, there are only three truck taxis on the island,one other car, and a couple of those "gator" all terrain vehicles. It's a very small place. We just didn't want to lug our heavy back packs to the hotel. It cost a whopping three bucks for the ride, so we figured we'd splurge.
As we approached the hotel we noticed a very, very steep hill. Then we saw the sign. It said: Cerrito Tropical and had an arrow pointing up...straight up. Cerrito means "little hill" in Spanish. I think it should have read "super huge, really steep, it'll kill you every time you have to go up or down this hill" Tropical, but what do I know. The truck chugged and chugged and got us up the hill with our luggage, thankfully.
The hotel/bed and breakfast was a cute little place. It was somebody's home and they had expanded it to give it more room. Since there were three of us, we booked the suite. We had our own private balcony with a gorgeous view of the ocean and all the boats waiting to enter the canal. We had two bedrooms with three beds, and the bedrooms had air conditioning...which is a nice luxury.. There was a private bathroom with hot water (not all the rooms had hot water) and two hammocks. It was fantastic.
After we put our things down we headed to eat breakfast. That was our first trip down the hill. Of course, going down the hill with my knees is like Chinese water torture. I was quite slow going down. But, we finally made it and had breakfast at a tiny little place with plastic lawn furniture for tables and chairs. It was here that I discovered that I absolutely love Yucca (also known as Casava). It's really tasty...and my new favorite veggie...especially when it's fried! But then again, what isn't good when it's fried?
Once breakfast was concluded, we walked around the tiny town of Taboga and checked it out. It was just as I had seen from the dock, a very picturesque little tropical town. It turns out, however, that Taboga has quite an amazing history. From pirates to the US government, there have been many different inhabitants and visitors on this island. I'll leave the history for the history buffs. But, you can read all about Taboga here.
The little jaunt around the island got us all nice and hot and sweaty, so we decided we wanted to go to the beach. To go to the beach, we had to climb the hill to our room and change: Round one of Kristin, Pamela, and Jessica versus the "cerrito". Man alive I wasn't sure we were going to make it. Well, let me rephrase that. I'm not in the best of conditions, but I exercise three times a week. My dear friend Pam, does not. I thought we were going to have to carry her up. I really did. She did make it. But, to her defense, that hill was a son of a gun. It was steep.
We changed into our bathing attire, with great difficulty I might add. Anybody who knows me knows that I have very developed sweat glands. It comes from years of sports, I guess. But, I was drenched. And, without air conditioning, there's no cooling down quickly. So, changing was difficult. Putting on sun block to block out the Equatorial blast of sun was even worse. Sun block doesn't like to stick to you when you're sopping wet. It's a wonder I didn't burn all the way through. As it was, I was just a bit burned on my hairline (through my hair...go figure. How was I going to put sun block in my hair anyway?), a small patch on my shoulders, and on the insides of my ankles. I don't know why or how that happened. I had the same amount of spf 55 there as I did on the rest of my legs.
We paid a young kid to take us on a boat ride around the island. That took about an hour and was a nice ride in open Pacific Ocean. He dropped us right off at the beach and we spent the next hours relaxing and swimming. I, in fact, fell asleep with one arm in the sun (we rented an umbrella) and ended up with one arm much darker (and a bit more burned) than the rest of my body! It was very restful there watching the boats come in and out of the canal and seeing the City in the distance.
The thunder and lightening off towards the city gave us a fair warning of the rain that was to come, so we packed up and headed to lunch. We ducked into what was basically this lady's front porch, for lunch as the rain fell in Biblical proportions. I'm pretty sure I saw Noah run by with a couple of animals under each arm. It only lasted for about half an hour, though, thankfully.
We were tired out so we headed back to the hotel to nap in the hammocks. This began round 2: Kristin, Pamela, and Jessica vs the "cerrito". Same result as the last, although I was already upstairs in our room sleeping by the time Pam made it. Everybody plopped down and fell asleep to the water lapping and the very comfortable tropical breeze.
Then I heard a rustle. It was Pam moving around in the hammock a little bit, readjusting you might say. Then there was the sound heard round the world. Pamela had awoken me when she moved around in the hammock. As I lay there I felt a bit of pressure in my stomach from all the yucca...and who knows what else. So, man, I just let one rip.
About three seconds later there was hysterical laughing coming from the other hammock, which put me in hysterics as well. And, this is how we spent the afternoon. Back and forth and back and forth and back and forth. It was quite the war. Poor Jessica was just inside the door lying on her bed shaking her head. My eyes were puffy from the crying which ensued after the laughter. It was a comical afternoon.
We declared Pamela the winner, and she was by far. She killed me. And, we called a short truce, we were all hungry and got ready to head to dinner. As we were all getting ready we heard some commotion below. The "commotion" was people... people talking. People talking in regular voices, not raised voices. I kind of stopped. Pamela stopped. She looked at me with that kind of "I wonder" look, and I reciprocated. We stood there for another few seconds just looking at each other with a look of astonished horror, and it all broke loose.
The laughter began again and it went on and on and on as we quickly realized that everything that had happened in the suite that afternoon had been completely and totally audible to the people staying in the hotel below. We could hear everything. Every word, every cough, every movement they made. That means they heard the entire bodily function barrage that took place earlier in the afternoon.
Now, you're probably thinking one of three things here (or maybe all of theM). One: I can't believe Kristin is this disgusting...or the fact that there's somebody else out there just as disgusting as her. Two: how is Kristin not completely and totally mortified by the fact that everybody heard her? Or, three: Maybe nobody was in the hotel that afternoon.
One: I know I'm disgusting. I'll be the first to admit it. That's a valid point. But, I also think it's hysterical (when in its place... and although this place was fairly public, I did believe it to be private). I also love to laugh. And, I think it's funny. And, I bet, if you really are honest with yourself...deep down there you think it's funny too. Come on. You know you do.
Two: Well, you've gotta laugh at yourself in this world when you do stupid things in life because it's laugh or cry... I choose laugh. And, I chose to laugh off this moment...because if you really do think about it, it's hysterical that I got busted. And, of course I won't learn my lesson.
Three: Oh, there were people there! Unfortunately, we saw them when we headed up to the room earlier in the afternoon. We actually had met a couple of them: a little girl and her mother from Chile.
The little girl and her mother are a story within the story. They were the most air headed people I've run into for a long time. They were very kind, but stinking funny (This from the girl who farted all afternoon in ear shot of 6 other guests). We talked to the girl a bit and she proceeded to take a very long time to tell me what her name was and what town she was from in Chile and apparently had no idea if it was to the South or North of Santiago (and this girl was at least 8 or 9). She asked us where we were from and we let her know where we were from and for whom we worked.
We also know for a fact that the little girl and her mother were downstairs in the afternoon (which will come into play later). We came into contact with them quite a lot through the rest of the weekend and each time we talked to them, it was an adventure.
Well, Sunday came around and we headed home after having enjoyed a very nice weekend on the island. We saw our Chilean friends on the boat home as well. They were very interested in how much fun we had had and asked us lots of questions. They even hounded Jessica about where Pamela and I were when she went up top of the boat to take some photos. Quite amusing in the weird, foreign stalker kind of way.
And so, We enjoyed a very nice and relaxing weekend filled with the beach, yucca, crazy Chileans and gas.
Skip ahead two weeks. Pamela and I are in the car on the way back from eating lunch on weekday. Pam tells me she talked to Gustavo this morning about some Chilean friends he has (Gustavo, by the way, is the Director of Operations for the entire company. He's from Chile.). She proceeds to tell me that some friends he knows from the Chilean Association of Panama had met a Mexican girl and a blond American girl that worked for his company when they spent the weekend in Taboga a couple of weekends ago.
I happened to be driving this day and I kid you not I almost hit the car in front of us when she said that. I looked at Pamela and I really didn't believe she was telling me the truth. I thought she was making up the story. I kept insisting that she was making it up. She wasn't.
I didn't witness the conversation with Gustavo and Pamela and that's probably a good thing. I'm sure I would have just started hysterically laughing. Pam said she just stood there with kind of a look of "oh really" on her face trying to hide the horror as Gustavo explained how he knew this family and their daughters. She did ask him what they had said about us. Gustavo said they had just said they met us and that we were nice.
I'm not so sure. That little girl was crazy. I'm sure she's already informed Gustavo's entire family of what happened on the island in full detail.
Either way, Pam and I have vowed never to speak of the incident again and I have been avoiding Gustavo and all members of his family. Every time I make eye contact with Gustavo, though, I'm always looking for some hint that he knows. I know he does. I know it. But, he's sure good at hiding it. We'll see come promotion time what all he really knows.
Kristin's lack of manners strikes again. If only she would have just listened to her mother. At least we had fun. We're also waiting for a charge to the credit card for "stained hammocks". We haven't seen the charge yet. I'll keep you informed.
Here are a few photos. I don't have too many. Jessica took the most, but I haven't gotten them from her yet.
Pamela, Jessica, and me on the ferry
The view from the dock when we landed
The famous "hands"...only I didn't actually have the hands with me. I forgot them... So, I made my own!
The view from standing in the door of our suite...and Pamela's leg in the hammock. She didn't leave that hammock most of the weekend.
Jessica, Pamela, and I on the boat ride around the island. Pam is very proud of her stomach.
And now, at the end of all my blogs I usually leave a list of little quips about things that have happened that don't warrant an entire story. I've decided I'm going to call these Panamusings and they will be included in each blog entry.
Panamusings
- The jungle hiking "adventure" that we went on ended up to be a jungle hiking "bust". we didn't see anything other than a ñeke (a big tropical rat), some ants, some spiders, and some bats. Whoppeee. I was so disappointed. I really wanted to see the monkeys! I did get a couple of good pictures with the "hands" though.
- You know your dinner is going to be fantastic when you hear the old, gross, American guy talking to the hooker...oops, I mean "escort" he bought when he got to the city. You know, he picked her "because he liked her picture best of all...and she spoke English." Alright!
- Unhappy = Kristin taking a half of day of vacation to watch the USA vs Mexico Gold Cup Final only to see the US lose 5-0. Kristin will never be staking a day of vacation on US Soccer ever again. They had their chance.
- Ummm...did I mention they show NCIS re-runs here? YAHHOOOOOOO!
- Back in the day, when I was just learning Spanish, my buddy Katy and I started watching a Mexican soap opera to try to help us out with our "listening" skills (You laugh, but it helps.). Those shows are so over the top it's hysterical. We started out having to call each other every commercial to talk about everything that had happened to be able to understand what was said. By the end of the show (a few months later), neither of us had to call to understand what was going on. It was amazing how much that really helped. And, we loved the over the top telenovela.
Problem is, we missed the beginning of the telenovela. I figured I'd never see it again ever in life. But, the other night I was flipping stations and guess what I discovered? I discovered Cañaveral de Pasiones again! I've had a lot of fun reliving the fun. I just wish I could record it and send it to Kate so we could talk about it at each commercial. - You know what's creepy? When your friend comes to pic you up at your apartment and you're on your way down and the security guard can tell your friend exactly where you are in the building and that you're on your way down. Big Brother is always watching...she says suspiciously looking left and right
- And finally, I've decided that male crotch scratching is very accepted in Brazil. Yes, that's right, I said it. But, it's become such an enormous issue (he he) that I just can't let it go. Is it really okay to do that in that country? Because the Brazilian guys in the office, although very kind, just scratch all the time. And, frankly, one sits right in front of me. Every time he stands up he scratches and it's at face level...four feet away. FACE LEVEL. Come on! I'm going to have to get some sort of visor. Either that or I'm just going to start scratching my boob all the time.
Peace out!
