La Ciudad de Panamá

After nearly three years in Panama now, I've come a long way by adapting to my surroundings. The trend has been that things which bothered me at first become normal and even like-able. For example I used to be frustrated at how Panamanians talk - a) rapidly, b) words and syllables are blended together, c) certain letters are not pronounced in words, etc. A typical phrase is written, "echar para adelante" but actually said, "echapa'lante." The word "pescado" is pronounced "pesca'o." To translate, "Vamos para allá" into Panamanian you would say, "vamo'pa'lla." And if you actually enunciate these words and phrases people will often have trouble understanding you, since they're not used to it. But for better or worse, I've adopted the accent. I find it endearing, and slur words together without thinking about it. It's the kind of thing that gives Panama character.

Another example is how my perspective on Panama City has changed. I used to hate going to the city. Coming from the campo (rural areas) it was always a huge shock to see skyscrapers, malls, noisy traffic, crowds of busy people, bright lights and loud music. I remember the first time going there after a few months in the Darien, I thought I was gonna have a nervous breakdown. As a Peace Corps Volunteer, it can be both relieving and stressful to be in the city. On the one hand you get the comforts of a real bed, running water, electricity, and grocery stores; on the other hand you are missing out on time and work in your community and having to deal with all the hassles of urban life. But over time I've had to spend more time in the city (mostly for medical reasons), and I've gotten to know the place better. Now there are certain areas I enjoy visiting like the parks, which can be a relief from the crowds and shopping centers. On weeknights I can play pickup basketball or volleyball at the ocean-side courts which are lit up until 11 at night - Panamanians only show up to play after the sun goes down (way too hot otherwise). Sometimes I visit artisan markets in Casco Antiguo to chat with Embera and Kuna people selling their art.

Panama, what looks like a miniature Miami, is a quickly developing city. It has changed dramatically even just in the time I've been here. I've seen the public transportation system go from diablo rojos (run down American school buses with unique paint jobs) to air conditioned metro buses with electronic card readers. Last year they opened the first metro railway in Central America, an impressive project that helps avoid the traffic. Skyscrapers continue to rise up while the canal is expanded to allow even larger cargo ships from all over the world to travel from the Atlantic to the Pacific.

I found this great view from the top of a hill in the Parque Natural Metropolitano, a rainforest reserve on the outskirts of the city. The photo shows how the skyscrapers have grown up in this small area on the edge of the Pacific Ocean, while the jungle looms just outside hoping to reclaim the land. It's interesting to think only a few hundred years ago the area was nearly impenetrable jungle, and that explorers risked their lives to find a route to the coast. This is La Ciudad de Panamá.

So one day I'm in the city and have a list of things to get: a haircut, some vegetables, and a new hammock (it gets a lot of use). So I go to the place I know I can get all of these things: Cinco de Mayo. This is a part of the city that is very different from the fancy shopping malls and high rise apartments. It hasn't been remodeled recently. The brick paved main drag is lined with old department stores with metal bars over their doors, street vendors, and dingy restaurants selling fried food. It's late afternoon and as usual the street is full of crowds of people chatting and shopping around. It's very busy and yet I get the vibe that nobody is in a hurry to be anywhere. Loud reggaeton music blasts out of speakers in the storefronts and vendors yell to advertise their products.

First I go to a barber shop, which is really just a few chairs on the side of the road with some muchachos waiting with clippers and razors. I ask for a mango chupa'o (a mohawk) because this is what happens when you get bored in the city. They're surprised and amused that I speak like a Panamanian, and want a haircut de la moda. I talk with them while a guy shaves the shape of a star into the side of my head. Then we argue about the price and I finally hand him $3.

From there I try to find one of the artisan markets where they sell all sorts of artwork and handcrafts. But I can't remember where it is and I instead wander into a poor and run down neighborhood where residents live in dilapidated open-air apartments. A kid, 8 or 9 years old, stops me in the middle of the street and says, "¡No vaya por allí, te roban!" ("Don't go that way, you'll get robbed!") I stop walking and explain to him I'm looking to buy a hammock and ask if he knows where I could find one. He calls out to his friend, who emerges from the rubble of an old broken down building and they talk about where we could go. A little girl, a cousin of one of them, drops the rocks she was playing with and comes to tag along. So I'm walking down the street with José, Carlito, and Yiana leading the way, on a mission. A few people are staring at the procession of the big gringo with a group of not-so-well-kept kids. We finally find the market and I start to get the typical tourist treatment from the vendors, hoping to get some extra money out of me. Carlito yells at the vendor telling him not to rip me off, and that he should lower the price. This takes him off guard, and I laugh. After I get a good price on a hammock I walk back with the kids, talking with them about school and games they like to play. We stop at a convenience store and I buy them each a glass bottle of Coca Cola to thank them for their help.

Random encounters like this are always rewarding, just getting to know people and places. These experiences give me more of an appreciation for the culture and lifestyle in the city, even if it's not always my favorite place to be. I guess the moral of the story is that if you find yourself in a context that feels foreign and you're annoyed or perplexed by something, it could be you just haven't given it enough time to appreciate it.