Panama City

Pile of tourists at MiraFlores Locks of the Panama Canal. Panama.

Boat from china passing through the MiraFlores Locks of the Panama Canal.

Hello all!

I’m back!

I know, I know, you were probably worried sick. I guess I did leave rather abruptly, but I had to exit the country to renew my visa. Law says visitors can stay here for up to 3 months, but must leave for 72 hours, and can only re-enter paradise if in possession of a ticket to exit the country again. This is to prevent too many gringos from settling here. Too bad for the Ticos that wealthy Gringos, who are buying up the waterfront on the nicest beaches here for vacation and retirement homes, have figured out how their bodies can stay planted in their mansions in front of their flatscreens while their passports pass bodiless, across the border for the obligatory 3 days. Oh, the things money can buy.

But enough about ghosts, I walked over the Costa Rican border into Panama, in the flesh, at 4 am last Tuesday morning and spent the week in Panama City. On the excessively air-conditioned over-night bus from capital city to capital city, I met up with a Scotsman and a Dutchman and over the hours we argued politics, cursed each others cultures, exchanged stories, and laughed a lot! In PC we shared a stinky sweaty room in the hostel and spent half the night rolling around giggling in our bunks, and probably would have been up the whole night but the people next door told us to pipe down; it felt like the first few weeks of college. We spent the next few days touring the city, country side and beaches with a private Canadian escort (friend of the Scotsman) and sleeping (for free!) in his posh apartment in the fancy suburbs.

View of the Panama City skyline from posh apartment.


On Saturday I lost my companions to the call of the open sea (they took boats southward) and spent the day wandering alone through the "old town". The site is a waterfront of tragically beautiful ruins of old mansions left over from the US and French occupations of the country, surrounding plain-old-tragic looking ruins of apartments which are currently home to thousands of Panamanians.

"Municipality of Panama" trashcan on it's side, overgrown ruins, water, high-rises. Panama.

Tourists and bike vendors. Panama.

Some boats, abandoned docks and apartment buildings at low tide. Panama.

I don’t have any descent photos of these newer buildings or neighbourhoods, because I wasn’t aloud anywhere near them. Police on bicycles and horseback guard every corner of the tourist areas, stopping people from crossing certain streets (poor Panamanians and tourists alike). The closest view I got of the poorer residential areas was from the window of the Canadian's LandRover. I saw kids playing "bola" (soccer) in bomb-pocked ruins of buildings taken out by U.S. arsenal during the 1989 invasion of the city. Odd that “gringos” are not exactly welcome in these neighbourhoods.

Peeling paint in "Casco Viejo" (old fort).

The wealthy, touristy areas of the city were hot, ugly and crowded with people, shiny, poorly constructed casinos and expensive stores full of foreign products. I had a great trip but I didn’t like what I saw of Panama.

The country side, too, was ugly: burned and barren. Completely stripped of living things, and replanted with rows of who knows what. gross.

Urban Panamanian nature preserve. Eat your heart out, Minneapolis.

A farm... or something. Out the bus window. Panama.

Now I’m back.
Somehow, this place seems more beautiful than when I left.
Hope you’re all well and loving where you’re living!!!!!!!

Still missing you.