3 de abril

Our first full day in David was beyond brilliant.
The agenda? Spend the day at a local river with some of Joy's friends.  Specifically, the mom, dad, one of their daughters, and their niece.  Around 10am, the aforementioned foursome arrived at the apartment to meet up with our group of six, and our completed clan of ten set out for the river. 
Joy hinted that I might like to ride with the Panamanian family; I sheepishly agreed.  I admit that I was a little nervous, since this would be the first real opportunity to use my Spanish on this trip.
And definitely not the last.
Their welcome was warm, in more ways than one. Timidly I slid into the toasty backseat of their sudan.  No AC, just the windows rolled down. I liked it that way, though.  Sticking your head out the open window like a hound dog is much more exhiliarating than just simply watching the panoramic countryside fly by. 
Not that I spent much time with my head out the window.  I stayed busy trying to make conversation with Marlenis, the ten-year-old who sat beside me in the backseat of the car.  She made the most effort to talk to me from the very start, and her amiable nature made it much less awkward. She asked me about my family, where I'm from, what I learn in school, and if I like the Jonas Brothers. I really wish I had our conversation on tape.
We were definitely amigas by the end of the drive.
Our eager group of ten skillfully descended the sloping hill down to the banks of the river.  We promptly set up our camping chairs, situated our picnic supplies nearby, and began slathering on the Coppertone.  Even in the areas that were partially-shaded by the trees that loomed over the riverbank, it would have been foolish to go without sunscreen.

[Ryan and Cristi]

[Cristi, me, Marlenis]

[Sean and me]

My favorite part would have to be the jump.
That jump.
The Panamanians do it all the time; it's no big deal.  Aunt Linda discouraged our experimenting with it, and decided to sit back with all of our belongings so she wouldn't have to watch us take the plunge :)  Ryan was the first to give it a go.  Sean was next; then me.  I made Sean go with me... haha, wimpy I know.  I ended up loving it, and I would have taken the leap more than I did if I hadn't been wearing my contacts.   The last thing I wanted was to lose them.
There was just so much to see, and I could not bear to miss any of it.


I love how ridiculously boring my writing is sometimes. Thanks for reading.


to be continued...

2 de abril: continuado

Normally a car ride of that length would bore any person to tears - but not me. Not this time, anyways. It's one thing when you're making a 6-hour drive to or from a place you've already been a bazillion times; it is a completely different story altogether when you're a curious American girl in a brand new place - a whole different country - for the very first time.

What kept me sane was an unmatchable combination of things: enjoying the company of the Cronin's, trying my luck (or lack thereof) at Ryan's Rubiks cube, munching on those ridiculous little Panamanian candies (and genuinely enjoying them), and basically just soaking in the view of every iota of Panama that passed us by. Or that we passed by. However you like to picture it.

By far, the most pivotal moment of the actual car ride would have to be when first we spotted the Pacific Ocean, off in the distance. It was barely even visible. That's part of why it was so spectacular.  I was only allowed to steal a perfect glimpse, for but a moment or so. And it was enough.

I am so easily amused sometimes. Easily impressed also, but not nearly as often as I am easily amused.

"Hey, this is the first time I've actually seen the Pacific!" I gasped.

Next came those four immortal words.

"I feel like Balboa!"

You know. Vasco de Balboa. The first European ever to lay eyes on the magnificent aquatic expansion that we refer to today as the Pacific.

And that was that. Joy christened my exclamation to be the "quote. of. the week."  Not only that, but she also went on to nickname me Balboa for the rest of the trip.  Probably the rest of my life too.  This isn't the first moniker I've been given by a Cronin... but that's another story for another time.

The destination of our journey was finally where we found ourselves to be. Finally. David, Panama.

YESSSSSS.

We unloaded our junk out of the rental and settled into Joy's apartment.  (Now, at some point, Uncle Casey and Joy returned the rental car so we could return to using Joy's SUV. Just a minor, mostly irrelevant, really unimportant detail. Just so you know. Now, back to your regularly-scheduled programming.)

We sat, as if we hadn't for the past six hours; we ate, and plain old pasta with red sauce had never tasted so good; we laughed, because that's what you do when you're reunited with people you've missed. We breathed in the reality of the situation: we were in Panama, with Joy, for ten days! Knowing that the adventures had just begun was such an enormously good feeling.  It was beautiful.

Soon enough, Joy, Aunt Linda, Ryan, and I headed to the grocery store.  At the entrance, the security guard greeted us with a hushed "Buenos."  That's a common way to say hello (it's short for buenos días or buenas tardes) other than what most Americans would think of, like the word "Hola."

While the other two set out on a mission to beseige every item on their list, Ryan and I meandered innocently along the adjacent aisles.  My personal favorite part of this grocery experience would have to be the caution tape that held every existent alcoholic beverage hostage. Basically, nobody was allowed to purchase beer, wine, or anything of the sort, on the Thursday, Friday, or Saturday preceding Easter Sunday. It was a bizarre sight, to be sure. At least to me. I definitely was not used to that sort of Easter tradition. Usually it's more like, let's decorate the grocery store with chocolate bunnies and technicolor Easter eggs that have nothing to do with each other or with Jesus.  But hey. It's commercial, and it's tradition.

American tradition anyways. That was when I was reminded of how very different this Easter would be for me. But I was content; and actually, I was looking forward to the novelty of it all.

2 de abril: the drive

Or the second of April, if you prefer it in English. I figured you would be smart enough to figure that one out, though.

I'm struggling with whether or not I should elaborate, and risk boring you to death with the elongation of these posts; or if I should spend extra time, desperately trying to be concise while simultaneously giving you every necessary detail.  Or unnecessary, more than likely.  Brace yourself.

Now to the topic at hand.

We're finally getting to the good stuff.    P A N A M A !  :)

----------------

Once we made it past baggage claim, immigration, etc., we eagerly hurried to meet Joy. It was a beautifully joyful reunion - no pun intended :)  Next, we took a bus/taxi thing to a hotel near the airport. Joy advised that I take one last warm shower before meeting the reality of "refreshingly" cold showers at her place.  I actually really liked the cold showers... haha.

The morning started out with a lovely breakfast, complete with a myriad of fresh tropical fruits (of course!). We then spent the morning at the pool. Who wouldn't?  The water... the sun... the palm trees.

It was all perfect.

Our day hit a somber note when we were back up in our rooms. Dad called to let us know a piece of news that we knew would come, sooner or later. We just didn't know exactly when; well, that morning was "when." 

Buddo had gone Home. ♥ 

As awful as it is to think that I have to spend the rest of my life here without her, and as much as I selfishly wish I could have her around at the lake for just one more summer, I knew right then that it would be okay in the end. The main reason is summed up really well in 2 Corinthians 5:6-8.

Showered up and ready to drive several hours from Panama City to David (pronounced Dah-VEED), we hopped into the rental car and were on our way.  It was during those six hours that I discovered a decent appreciation for Latino music. :)  That genuine appreciation would evolve into a solid love, by the time our vacation was over.

We stopped to rest at a little - well, rest stop, of course.  The outdoor cafeteria is common there, I suppose, because that is where we ate our lunch.  My plate consisted of rice and breaded chicken. Nothing exotic. But it was delicious. 

It's a good thing I like rice, because they eat a ton of it down there. 

On that note, I noticed that Joy's rice was not plain old white rice like mine.  Hers was fried. It was seafood rice; emphasis on the "seafood."   

Yeah. That's a baby octopus. 

She ate it, and went on to say it's not amazing: it just tastes like rubber bands.

*Shudder* ...Basically I'm a wimp. I'll work on that.

On a yummier note, Joy bought us a little tray of traditional Panamanian candy right before we left. Essentially they were petite rectangles of coconut and sugar. 

And they were wonderful.

panama journal [chapter two]

April 1, Houston airport

The sun is pouring into this giant room we're resting in, courtesy of this massive window that they call a wall. I can see a few planes that await being boarded.

I wish one of them were mine.We still have a while yet. It's the middle of the day, and we don't board the plane to Panama City for another several hours.

Humbug.

As we lounge here, my neglected left cheek is a nice, rosy pink.  This is a result of my using a loose fist for a pillow during my much-needed waiting room nap.  Aunt Linda just woke up from hers, as did Uncle Casey.

Mine was a delightful nap.  I can't say for the rest of theirs yet.  I definitely can't ask Ryan, although I assume his is quite pleasant since he's still in the midst of it. Sean opened his eyes a few moments ago and is now delving into a book.

I may rummage around into my carry-on Reebok duffle bag to scout out a little snack. My choices? Toy Story fruit snacks, Little Debbie cakes, and mini bagel chips.  Don't judge me :) I know the bagel chips are the best option as far as substance goes...

I could really go for a nice thick burger right now. Or even just some fresh fruit.

Or fruit snacks.

Toy Story ones, to be exact.

----------------

later, April 1

I am on the plane to Panama as we speak. Or rather, as I write.

Sean and I just watched an episode of The Office on my iPod.  YES :)

But oh, the turbulence! We're sitting in the very back row, too, and writing neatly while on a plane is officially not on my list of the easiest tasks to accomplish in life.

We were served a little on-board meal mere hours after I swore I wouldn't consume a THING for the rest of the day once I downed that Panda Express. This airplane foodfood is my first ever real meal I've had on an airplane, since I've only ever flown to Florida and back, multiple times.  The meal consisted of a few different segments (for lack of a better term. I forgot how hard it can be to come up with decent vocabulary choices while one's ears are popping at 32,000 feet.)

[Insert a few lines of messy arithmetic drawn here]

So, if my math is correct, we're like 5 or 6 miles up?

Excellent.

(By the way. Very rarely do I go on a math tangent like that. Consider yourself special in having just witnessed that moment in history.)

The meal consisted of baby carrots, which I dove into immediately. The salad was just okay. It wasn't Olive Garden, but who am I do deem it unworthy, as the food critic that I most certainly am not. It's Continental Airlines for crying out loud. I shouldn't complain.

I will say this: the fajita was questionable. Had I been hungrier, it may have been vacuumed up more eagerly. This time around, 3 1/2 bites were satisfactory.  I then reached for a miniature package of Pepperidge Farms cookies. Much less questionable.

The guy in front of me has quite an interesting sort of mohawk. Just an observation. It's like the remainder of a good ole solid (wow, word choice?) afro. I can't help but conjecture that perhaps he did indeed sport the afro at one point in time, but decided to be rid of it, asked his friends what they thought, and BOOM. With a few sweeps of some hair clippers, there went the afro. And there, lo and behoold, was begat the fellow's mohawk: the very one that I am just now noticing.

I do wish I had a window seat right now. (Nothing to do with the 'fro - we're off that subject now :)  However, I enjoy sitting next to Sean and exchanging witty small talk in between his napping intervals. I envy his effortless ability to fall asleep in here. It must be a gift - one that I don't have. But I have others.

One of them could be the ability to push myself to write on a plane, despite the lack of decent penmanship in the midst of common air turbulence. R.I.P. my good, earth-level handwriting. At least I know you'll be resurrected when we reach Panama.

But wait! I failed to mention this before.

I spent about 11 1/2 seconds watching Uncle Casey tap his fingers on his folding table to a beat - so of course I created a game of it, for the mere personal entertainment that I supposed it might provide. All I did was try to figure out which Beatles song he was listening to, by tracking his fingers, and the rate at which they hit the table.

Because you really needed to know that minor detail.

later, April 1

You have to see this. It's the view from the plane window. I zoomed in past the lady who is sleeping soundly in the window seat, because I just had to capture the sight.  We're right above Panama now.

I can hardly contain my excitement.

panama journal [chapter one]

Thursday, April 1
4:57am

"Did you see that lady in the polkadot dress?! Her shoes. Were the same. As her dress. Exactly."  -Uncle Casey

So here we are.

Dulles Airport.

The plane begins to board in about a half an hour. Aunt Linda is being a contented little bookworm; Ryan is people-watching (and dreading the inevitable commencement of math homework that his teacher kindly sent him); Uncle Casey is taking a snooze. (Because, well, that's about all a normal person should prefer to be doing at such an early hour.) As for Sean... um... oh. He got up to explore the hallway a bit.

I noticed as we walked down to the waiting area that we passed by a small airport chapel. A chapel. At an airport.  Maybe I'm just slow, but I didn't even know airports had chapels.

You learn something new every day.

---------------

April 1, 8:26am (Eastern time)
on the airplane

(Ok. For future reference, I'm going to drop mentioning the exact time of each entry.  Just saying.)

Ryan I just finished watching Napoleon Dynamite on my iPod, and now we're listening to some Jim Gaffigan comedy.  Oh the joys of modern technology :)  Writing on an airplane -- or at least attempting to -- is not so joyful.  I'll give it a rest till we reach Houston for our bajillion-hour layover.


later, 11:30 (TX time... an hour difference)

Ok, I lied. Now I'm done listing the time. :)

We played the card game "pitch" here in Houston, just a little while after getting off the plane and grabbing a bite to eat.  Something else I learned today? Wendy's has breakfast burritos.  I stuck with an egg/sausage/cheese biscuit, but Sean was adventurous and went with said burritos. Apparently they're quite good. Then again, at the time, Sean could have just been a ravenously hungry 24-year-old, and apparently hunger is the best spice.

Pitch game score? Here you go, per round. The total scores are listed at the end.

Uncle Casey               Ryan                Emily
2                                  2                       0
0                                  0                       3
-2                                 1                      2
-2                                 2                      1
total: -2                       5                       6

Ha. I won. :)

home

I'll be posting a lot in the near future about my Panama trip, basing my posts off the journal I kept during my stay. It won't be word-for-word; I'll let the journal serve as an outline. I was so busy while I was there that I did not write as nicely and elaborately as I would have preferred. I'll get to that embellishing part here on my blog.

For now, I'm still exhausted. I got to bed between 3 and 3:30am this morning and woke up around 9am to that terrible "why can't I go back to sleep?!" feeling.  Maybe it was because I knew in the back of my mind that my cousins were downstairs, and I wanted to spend a little more time with them before they headed out the door to go home.

Speaking of which, I am glad to be in my own home now. As indescribably beautiful as Panama was -- in more ways than one -- it is always wonderful to go home.

In the immortal words of the beloved literary heroine Dorothy:

There's no place like home.

That is, I am now home where I belong while I'm here in this life: so yes, I am finally home.

And Buddo is now Home too.