JJ's Travelogue

Tomorrow morning (at 5am!) I am off to the San Blas Islands, home to the Kuna Indians and their famous Mola textiles. I’m really looking forward to this trip – it’s meant to be the highlight of Panama, and not yet overrun with tourists. The Kuna live a very simple life on hundreds of tiny islands, many of which are available for rent (your own island to yourself!). I was given a contact there by some fellow travelers who had a great time. I’ll be paying $45/night which is a bit pricey for me, but that includes three meals a day, including fresh lobster, etc. During the days I’ll be snorkeling and chilling. I’m sure there’s no internet out there, although there probably is cell reception if you want to call me. I still can’t text to Twitter which kind of defeats the purpose, so don’t expect any updates from me for the next 3 – 5 days.

I’ll leave you with some random tidbits I’ve noticed about Panama:

• You can drink the water! All over Panama (except Bocas), the water is safe to drink.
• They don’t really eat beans, unlike the rest of Central America. But fried green plantains (patacones) are often served with meals, which I love.
• Japan and South Korea have provided a lot of infrastructure support. There are signs indicating so at facilities. Actually, I noticed some of this in previous countries as well – some European nations too, like France.
• They overdub reality shows! Overdubbing is bad enough, but doesn’t that finally take the reality out of reality shows?
• Even in the boonies, I am JDrive (tech fix-it man). A twenty-something stopped me on the street for help with the PIN code on his phone.
• I’m getting tired of the spitting. Men do it all the time, accompanied by gross loud noises.
• They don’t refridgerate their eggs. This is true throughout Central America, as in Europe. I’m convinced the U.S. is the only country to refridgerate eggs.
• Like Costa Rica, Panama has no military. Which is great, since historically the militaries in Latin America have been used against their own people. continue reading the rest of this post (and view the photos)…

Having made it to the metropolis of Panama City, I feel much better. I think it’s because of the anonymity – in a large city, I don’t stand out, so I don’t get stared at (much). Plus, the diversity – of shops, restaurants, people, things to do..

The city is fairly spread out, so I’ve been doing a lot of walking. I prefer that to haggling with taxi drivers all day who end up trying to upsell you to take a tour or something. There are poor slums and rich neighborhoods. The latter remind me a bit of São Paulo, the way restaurants and shops are integrated into residential blocks. Jeremiah is always (rightly so) going on about the importance of this kind of zoning.

As I walk through these smog-filled traffic jams, I’ve also been thinking what a wonderful world we would live in if the internal combustion engine had never been invented. Or, let’s just say the automobile. Imagine.. if fields and forests had never been paved over with asphalt. Looking at old European cities that were built before cars existed is one example – everything is within walking distance. But one can imagine more contemporary designs. I’m thinking of modern, clean transportation like mag-lev and segways. I always think of Dean Kamen’s manifesto when he introduced the Segway - pointing out that cars are complete overkill for the short distances they’re mostly used for – for getting around the 2-10km range, why not use something smaller and easier? No need to get in those dreadful machines that spit out heat and exhaust and make us so crazy we lean on the horn incessantly. For one thing, millions fewer people would be maimed and killed if we got rid of the damn things.

What if cities were designed for humans, instead of for cars? What if there were grass paths to walk along, and moving sidewalks and outdoor escalators for steep hills (see Hong Kong). What if they weren’t concrete and asphalt wastelands, but instead beautifully landscaped communities we wouldn’t want to escape from, thereby decreasing our need for cars even further? What if there were no need for interstates  and truck stops and mechanics and parking lots and gas stations and all their attendant ugliness and waste of natural resources, but instead massive large-scale public transportation (like mag-lev trains) that were clean, efficient, and pleasant to ride?

It’s sad to me that most of us simply accept the status quo and don’t envision, let alone strive, for an radically different (better) world that could so easily be ours. In the end I suppose it comes down to money, greed, and those other nasty human traits.
It’s nice to fantasize, anyway. But back to our regularly scheduled program…

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Traveling certainly has it’s ups and downs. Lately I’ve been down. I don’t know if it’s the heat, lack of exercise (due to the heat), not eating well or what, but I’ve been in a funk. Listless, lonely, bored.

I’ve always had full confidence in my self and my own abilities, but pay far too much attention to other people’s moods and how they relate to me. I’m getting pretty tired of the typical reaction from locals. For example, I walk into a restaurant and say “Good morning!” This is met by silence, accompanied by a glare. I ask for a menu. With great effort, as if I’ve interrupted some fantastic movie they were watching, they dain to bring me said menu. This goes on. No “thank you’s” or even smiles like we do in the States after a purchase is made. No “you’re welcome’s” after I say thank you, like politeness calls for. The guidebooks make a big deal of the importance of manners in these countries, but I see scant evidence of it. I have the most manners these towns have seen in years.

Intellectually, I know I shouldn’t take it personally, for I surmise I’m completely projecting all that hostility, and it probably has very little to do with me. That’s just the way they are. It’s like when the dancers used to glare at me and I would take it personally until it was explained to me that they weren’t glaring at me, they were upset because they had just been given a correction or some such thing completely unrelated to me. In fact, it’s incredibly egotistical to take it to heart. But that’s easier said than done.

Marissa came up with a great line that I’ve been musing over: what if the glass, rather than being half full or half empty, is exactly the right amount? I interpret this to mean that life is what it is, independent of how we interpret it. “Life is empty and meaningless”, therefore it’s up to us to impart meaning into events that are by nature completely neutral. There is no “bad” traffic, traffic simply is. We can interpret traffic to be an aggravating mess, or as a useful hour to catch up on listening to our favorite podcasts. This is what I am struggling with at the moment. It has to be done in the moment, to catch my thoughts before they turn negative. This morning at the grocery I was ranting to myself why I have to stand in two lines, one to weigh the fruit, then one to pay – why can’t they do it all in one line, like in the States? But negative thoughts like this are useless – I need to embrace the differences, and find positivity in them. After all, that’s the point of traveling.

So just when I’m feeling morose about the locals, a few key experiences happen that reinforce my faith in humanity.
First, to tell you where I am geographically. I spent a couple of nights in Santiago, an uneventful small city on the Pan-American Highway. From there, I day-tripped up to Santa Fé, a wholly uneventful town that I toured in about 10 minutes, only to spend another 2 hours back on the bus.
Panama is much longer than any other Central American country – I’m still closer to the capital of Costa Rica than I am to the capital of Panama, and both capitals are roughly in the middle of their respective countries.
After Santiago I based myself in Chitré, the largest town on the Azuero Peninsula that sticks out south into the Pacific. Chitré has a pretty church, and in a tree between the church and the market I heard these crazy birds:

The peninsula is very hot, dry, and flat. One day I took buses to several small towns along the peninsula that are supposed to be pretty. [By the way, I wish guidebooks would be more opinionated - instead of just the facts ("preserved colonial town with nice church"), couldn't they just say, "if you've seen colonial towns in Guatemala or Nicaragua, skip these, they can't compare". Particularly the Central American guidebooks, whose customers are probably indeed trying to decide which are the most important places to see! But I digress..]

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Just wanted to share this with you.  I always forget how much higher the GDP is in the U.S. compared to most nations.