memorial day

I've never had to watch a loved one go off to war and never come home.

But so many others have; I so admire their strength and their genuine love of country. I am in awe of their willingness to give up their fathers, their sons, and their husbands so that I may grow up in the land of the free and the home of the brave.  May we never, ever forget their sacrifice.

epilogue

And thus was the unforgettable, insurmountable aventura in Panama. I desperately hope it was not my last.


Somehow, I don't think it was.

it's taking me too long to document this.

PANAMA. Again.

:]

April 8: We began the day with a hearty breakfast, compliments of Joy. The meal consisted of bread, scrambled eggs, fresh pineapple, and Costa Rican-style gallo pinto. Literally translating to "spotted rooster," gallo pinto is essentially a dish made with rice and beans, among other subtle additions. I grew fond of it right away; to be honest, at this very moment I'd appreciate a plate. Or seven.  Speaking of Costa Rica, that's where we spent part of the day. We didn't actually go through immigration and customs and all that legal stuff, but we did make it to the border and were, technically, out of Panama and inside Costa Rica. Barely. But still. It's just fun to say I was in Costa Rica. We explored various department stores, ate at an outdoor cafeteria, and made sure to take a photo beside the Welcome to Costa Rica sign. Later on, back in David, we stopped by Java Juice again for an evening dessert.

April 9: Friday brought yet another river adventure, not at the same river as we visited on Saturday, but at one that showcased a tall sort of waterfall. This was one of the most relaxing afternoons of the Panama trip for me, and probably for each of the Cronin's as well. Ryan entertained himself by scaling the rocky terrain beside the falls: he aimed to find a decent height from which to leap into the water.  Motherly Aunt Linda frowned upon this, but Ryan proved to be agile and had no accidents. We continued our day with a picnic on the shore as we watched some locals crawl to the top of the waterfall, take a running jump, and plunge into the river.

 

April 10: Bright and early that morning, we took a seven-hour bus ride to Panama City, where we would spend Saturday afternoon most of Sunday -- that is, until Sunday evening, when our flight would leave Panama for home. Joy's friend's uncle is a taxi driver in the city, so we got in contact with him and his brother, who is also a taxi driver. If that's not convenient, I don't know what is.  They drove us around all weekend, to and from the bus station, hotel, various tourist spots, and eventually the airport.  Our time in the city was grand! I wish there were a better word to describe it. We visited a Smithsonian museum, the Panama Canal, and a delightful outdoor restaurant, as well as a few gift shops. We even took a long walk up and down the sidewalks along the water, just as the

sun began to set.

continuado

April 7: Due to the chaos of Tuesday, it was decided that Wednesday we would spend relaxing around David.  Ryan spied two iguanas on the concrete wall behind Joy's apartment, and I finally got to observe them myself. (He had found them before on this trip, but they had always escaped our view before I had the chance to see them.) 

Lunchtime was spent at Java Juice, and that afternoon we strolled around downtown David to explore various department stores. I scouted out some souvenirs to take back home to family and friends, as well as an adorable $11 sun dress! :)

Later on in the evening, we visited the park and indulged in some empanadas and snowcones. I even got to try coconut milk: a misnomer if I ever heard one!  It is somewhat viscous but hardly milky; and when Joy handed a cup to me, I just thought it was water. Imagine my surprise after taking that first eager swig.  To be perfectly honest, I wasn't impressed; but at least I can say that I've tried it.

la playa

April 6: That's Spanish for "the beach."

Oh what a crazy day.

It began as customarily as any average day at the beach might begin. Before galloping down to the coastline, we made ourselves right at home under the shade of two available cabanas and commenced a brisk sunscreen-lathering session. We were eager to take to the torrid sands and then wade into the balmy waters of the Pacific. Our feet were comforted merely by the protection of our flip-flops, and sometimes the steamy sand got caught between the sandal and the foot as we walked; but soon enough, the flip flops were ditched, and those feverish feet were soon submerged beneath the relieving waves of the ocean.

I took a break from the unrelenting Panama sun by lounging in the hammock of the cabana. Journal in lap and pen in hand, I drifted effortlessly into my literary reverie. 

It lasted only a short time.

"Help! Emily, help! How do you say 'help'?!"

I know my aunt well enough to know when she is concerned, even healthily so. This sounded like outright, authentic panic.

I jerked myself upright. Tossing my journal aside, I raced over to Aunt Linda to see what was wrong. Sean, who had previously been as absorbed by his book as I by my journal, followed suit.

As Aunt Linda frantically explained the grave scenario, I could tell she was choking back tears. Apparently a little boy had gone out too far, and his mother followed him out to help him.  The strength of the unforgiving undertow hindered their ability to swim back to shore.

They were drowning.

And there were no lifeguards.

Joy and Uncle Casey saw both of those facts to be true and rushed to the aid of the boy and his mother.  That's where they were now. 

Sean sprinted down the beach to offer his help.  The four struggling souls out in the water would be grateful for all the help they could get. The drowning mother was not aware of this at the time, however: she was already unconscious.

Meanwhile, Aunt Linda handed her phone to a Panamanian lady, to whom I explained the situation in Spanish.  The woman dialed a number and waited to ask for help.  Aunt Linda, Ryan, and I were praying incessantly. We wanted to watch our loved ones that were still so far off the coast, in hopes that they would soon be coming closer to shore; but at the same time, we hated to watch them struggle as time dragged on torturously. I couldn't tell the difference between 30 seconds and 5 minutes. It all felt like an eternity. They were still out there, and they didn't show any signs of coming in. 

To this day I cannot rightly tell you how long they were out there, fighting the battle against the undertow, before they finally conquered the waves and set foot on dry land.  By that time, help had been called for, and a multitude of beachgoers gathered around the area where the three Cronin's brought in the unconscious mother and her weeping young son. Uncle Casey collapsed on the shore in desperate exhaustion. Aunt Linda, a nurse, headed down to see how she could assist anybody. Ryan sat beside the sobbing little boy to comfort him, although they could not communicate in words. I was instructed to stay behind and monitor our belongings back at the cabana.

Ultimately it ended well, I think. The woman, who had regained a pulse, was hauled off in an ambulance along with her son.  It appeared as though they would both recover, although the memory of this traumatic episode will most likely never fade away.

My heroic cousins and uncle took a while to rest under the shade of the cabana. Not that the shade was noticeable anymore.The sun was low in the sky by the time all was well again. As we left, the sun was just slipping beneath the soft amethyst and scarlet hues in the clouds. It was a peaceful ending to a chaotic day.

You know how there are some days you just never, ever forget?

That was one of them.

coffee break

April 5: We strolled down the sidewalk from the gate at Mi Jardin Es Su Jardin to this little coffee place called Cafe Ruiz.  Fred followed us to our seats and promptly rested in the shade, right along with us.  Remember, I named him that. It fit somehow. Don't ask why; I don't know either.

I enjoyed the most refreshing mocha frappuccino EVER, by the way. Move over, Starbucks... :)

mi jardin es su jardin

April 5: (continued) Our next stop was anything but a disappointment. Mi Jardin Es Su Jardin is somebody's private property: one vast Eden that is open to the public, free of charge. The colors are almost inconceivably radiant. I did my best to capture the essence of the place in photos, but I really do wish you could see it yourself. Such unhindered vibrance. It was genuinely breathtaking.

and even more panama

April 5: Monday brought the opportunity to visit Boquete.  Known for (among other things) its year-round perfect weather, Boquete was where we experienced Paradise Gardens, Mary Fresa, Mi Jardin Es Su Jardin, Cafe Ruiz, and--drumroll please--Fred the stray dog.  At least, that's what I named him.  Before we even made his acquaintance to begin with, we toured Paradise Gardens, an animal rescue that is also the home to many flowering plants that I found to be breathtakingly gorgeous.  This wasn't even Mi Jardin Es Su Jardin, and the whole point of Mi Jardin is to showcase a plethra of unmatched floral beauty, entirely native to Panama. 

At Paradise Gardens, we met yet another white-faced capuchin: he seemed identical to Xiu in every respect.  Some other, equally mischievous but less friendly monkeys (Joy fondly refers to them as "gremlins") tried to snatch my camera when I got too close to their habitat.  There was a Margay, some sort of wildcat; it was nocturnal, though, and thus it was contentedly curled up and napping.  We entered a section of the observatory devoted solely to birds, and I stole Uncle Casey's hat to protect the top of my head.  You can't blame me for being cautious...:)  We met some macaws, toucans, and other various feathery friends.  Joy followed willingly, which was a pleasant surprise to me, since she abhors birds. Maybe, just maybe, she doesn't mind pretty ones from a distance; but she prefers them to be just that: at a distance. 

This amuses me.  :)

Try to imagine how many Kodak moments we had. I'm sure the Cronin kids grew tired of it, since they were the object of most of our photos; but I think they will be thankful for it somewhere down the road, when we want to look back at this trip and remember how joyful it was.

Ha! JOYful!  Good choice of words.

Did I mention that Joy wore a light sweater during our Boquete adventure? She has become so accustomed to the usual, unforgiving humidity of Panama, that the pleasant 75-degree weather of Boquete felt cool to her.

We ventured a little ways to Fresa Mary, a quaint little snack shack that specialized in everything strawberry. We shared some unbelieveably juicy strawberries and two different kinds of cream: your usual whipped cream, as well as a different, thicker cream called natilla. 

Having dessert before lunch isn't a crime, especially on vacation.  Leaving Fresa Mary, we headed to a local restaurant to have our almuerzo. My meal consisted of rice, chicken, and plantains.

(to be continued...)

more panama

April 4: (continued) Sitting at the Guerra family table, we were served a bountiful Easter dinner, compliments of Mrs. Guerra. Our plates held mounds of rice and beans (pigeon peas, to be exact); soft, sweetened plantains (that probably have a more official title); as well as a mixture of seasoned beef, onions, and red peppers (it looked a lot like what you wrap up in a tortilla as a fajita). It was wholly delightful.  Equally delightful was the conversation that took place, for although some spoke only English and some only Spanish, Joy and Mr. Russell (the other missionary that joined us for dinner) served as translators.  It was not in the least bit awkward -- at least, for me.  I can't say for the rest of them, but by the looks on their faces, I could tell they all were having a wonderful evening.  The evening ended well: we moved the conversation out to the porch, and Mrs. Guerra asked if we would like to have some tea.  We heartily replied that we would, and soon enough, a few of the Guerra boys were headed out to the backyard to gather a few leaves.  Apparently they have plants that are useful as tea leaves!  The beverage was as warm as the Panamanian sun, and intensely sweet. Sean remarked that, especially with the added milk, the tea tasted just like warm Froot Loops milk!  (You know... when the cereal is all gone, and you finish that last puddle of milk that's left in the bowl.) 

(top row from left) Ryan, Sean, Heber, Mr. Guerra, Cristhian

(bottom row from left) Joy, Emily, Aunt Linda, Mrs. Guerra, Darrel, Denzell (holding the baby owl:)

i have a new appreciation for monkeys.

Around back, I finally got to meet the monkey. Xiu is a mischievous but loveable white-faced capuchin. Uncle Casey, Ryan, Sean, and I took turns letting the rascal climb on our shoulders; Joy and Aunt Linda were perfectly happy to not have this little fellow treating them like just another tree branch.

easter

April 4: This was my first Easter away from home. To be honest, it didn't really feel like Easter at all.  Then again, it just felt like a new kind of Easter: one that I'd never before experienced.  It was entirely unforgettable.


I loved every minute of it.


Sunday morning, balmy as usual, presented another glorious Panamanian sunrise. Dressed in my cheerful, spring-green skirt, white tank, and pearlescent white flip flops, I was eager to attend my first church service in Spanish. 


This church holds its services in a sort of pavillion: I think it's the large porch/covered patio of a building. I'm not sure exactly.  What I do know is that we received a very warm welcome, equal to that which we received the previous evening at youth group. I was elated to see some familiar faces, both of kids in the youth group and of the family we went to the river with on Saturday.


I sat in the second row towards the front, flanked by Sean and Ryan; Joy and her parents sat in front of us.  The service began with some worship songs.  Alabanzas may be the word for it.  I don't know... but they were songs. They were energetic, they were about Jesus, and they were in Spanish. That pretty well describes the rest of the service. 


I felt bad for Uncle Casey, Aunt Linda, Sean, and Ryan, since they had to sit through the service and desperately try to follow along as best as they could. Joy obviously was right at home; and to be honest, I enjoyed the challenge.  Listening to it all in Spanish and focusing on what exactly was being said really helped sharpen my comprehension skills. I found it all very encouraging: even down to the simplest things, like being able to find a Bible verse after being told the reference in Spanish.  (Such as Juan, capítulo veinte, versículo diez y siete instead of "John 20:17.")


As I listened intently to the speaker present his sermon, I suddenly remembered something Joy had said to me the night before: "Keep making the effort to improve your Spanish, but don't let what you don't know frustrate you. Be proud of yourself for what you do know and say 'Hey, I understood that!'"


Following the end of the service, I realized once again how much I hate saying goodbye.  I had to bid my hasta la vista's to Marlenis and Cristi, my pals from Saturday's river adventure.  Such is life, as they say.


Lunch was held at Joy's, and we were joined by one of her other missionary friends ( the one who gave the sermon that morning at church).  Later that night, we arrived at the Guerra's for Easter dinner.  Mrs. Guerra came out of the house to greet us, abashedly announcing that the food was not ready yet.  We hardly minded at all.   Perfectly contented to be waiting, we followed Mr. Guerra around their property for an insightful tour of their yard.  Growing in their yard were pineapples, mangos, peppers, avocados, plantains, and more!


(to be continued...)

3 de abril: dinner & beyond

Saturday night dinner at Joy's consisted of salad, a rotisserie chicken, mashed yucca with garlic/butter/parsley sauce, and patacones (mashed & fried plantain patties). That was the second of at least three different forms of plantain that I was to consume on my Panama adventure. 

Shortly after our meal, Joy offered to take Ryan and me to youth group.  I admit that I was slightly nervous as we meandered down the road in my cousin's SUV, thinking of how potentially awkward this might be instead of how brilliantly unforgettable it could (and did) turn out to be.  I wondered if Ryan was thinking the same thing.

Youth group was being held that night at the Guerra's: the same people who would be hosting our Easter dinner the next evening. As we pulled up to their home, I noticed a small but decent group of teens seated around the Guerra's porch.  Joy approached them deliberately while Ryan and I lagged bashfully behind.

"See that tree over there?" whispered Ryan, subtly pointing towards the back end of the Guerra's sideyard.

I nodded.

"That's where Xiu lives."

"Xiu?"

"Their pet monkey."

So they had a pet monkey.  A boy named Xiu.  (Actually, it's pronounced "SEE-oo," a lot like our English word "Sioux.")

Joy motioned for us to sit down in a few empty seats by the edge of the porch, while Mr. and Mrs. Guerra welcomed us congenially. I couldn't have been more thankful at that moment that Joy knew them all, that she knew Spanish way better than I did, and that all Ryan and I had to do was follow along as best as we could.  As the minutes went on, I noticed that I soon felt right at home.

Mr. Guerra was speaking about the resurrection. (This was the day before Easter Sunday, of course.)  I surprised myself with how well I was following the majority of what he said.   It was then that I felt a pang of sympathy for Ryan: at least I could understand some of what was being discussed! 

There came a time when Mr. Guerra had to leave the group for a short while. Joy leaned over to me and hushedly explained that to me, in English.  I don't recall where exactly he was going; all I know is that he wasn't gone long.  During his absence, Mrs. Guerra suggested that one of the students--the lone boy at this point, besides Ryan--get out his guitar to lead a few worship songs.  I adored listening to all of them and striving to comprehend so much of what was being sung.  I even recognized a few of the melodies right off. Some of the songs were basically the same as the ones I've known back home, but in Spanish.

Soon enough, Mr. Guerra returned with his vehicle that now runneth over with more students. As they poured into the porch, laughing and obviously pleased to be there, each one of them made a point to greet us -- specifically Joy, Ryan, and me -- personally. This was just cultural normalcy, and I knew that; but I admit, it still made me feel genuinely special.  Each one of them came up to me, shook my hand, looked me in the eye, and greeted me, unabashed. Like I said, this is their common, friendly practice, but it felt authentic. I appreciated that.

The girls talked and giggled and complimented each other on their outfits. (At least I think they did.) Several of the boys disappeared momentarily and magically returned with more guitars, preparing to help lead a few more songs. I'm sure my older brother would have loved to join them.

Chatting amongst themselves, all the recent arrivals managed to find seats on the now crowded porch. Joy pointed to a few of them, giving me their names and explaining who the four Guerra brothers were. She then leaned over to me again and smiled. "Now this feels like youth group."

*   *   *   *

"Well, Joy, what game did you bring for us this evening?"

Apparently Mr. Guerra asked that question often at the end of his Bible study discussion time. At least, that is what Joy mentioned to me as she stood up to give instructions. She had something in mind after all. 

Have you ever played the "human knot" game? Basically everyone gets in a circle, takes random people's hands, and becomes one giant pretzel that needs to be undone ever so skillfully. We split into two groups to play this, and one girl in mine asked me in English if I spoke Spanish.  "Un poquito," I replied sheepishly. It was probably too humble a statement to make, but I would rather lead her to believe I knew less than I really do, than to somehow make her think I was fluent.

After a lot of laughter in the midst of all the chaos, the game ended and we were sent into the kitchen for cookies and juice.

Darrel Guerra and his owl

Some of the kids stayed on the porch with their snacks, while some of the kids trickled out into the yard to admire the Guerra's pet birds.  Ryan and I chose to admire the birds: a falcon and a few owls, some of which were contentedly seated on their particular tree stumps, while others were perched on the outstretched arms of the Guerra boys or their friend Eliecer. 

Eliecer is the one who held the falcon at this point. This bird had a sort of mask over its eyes, and I was curious as to why.  I approached Eliecer and asked him the question in Spanish. 

"¿Qué tiene en la cabeza?"

He answered me in English.

All right. I ask him in his native language; he answers me in mine. Fair enough.

I found out later that he is fluent in English.  Admirable? Understatement of the year. I was (and still am) genuinely impressed.

And that was youth group.

I miss it. I miss them all. I hope I'm lucky enough to go back someday.