End of our tether

Sunday 22nd March 2009

6 weeks on, and we are still in Panama City, having planned to be here for 2-4 weeks. I guess selling a car isn't that straightforward. Well, this will be the last car I ever own. My girlfriend and I are nearing the end of our tether, not much hair left to tear out. We are couchsurfing, and have stayed for free with Christian and Kadir for the last 6 weeks.

These 2 are jokers, one is a straight air steward, the other works on boats (what else in Panama City?). We are sleeping on the sofa in their living room. Which is the first time I've slept on someone's sofa. What I hadn't prepared myself for is that this means slinking off to bed is not an option – either last to bed or going to sleep in the thick of things. Which is fine... for a while. Nonetheless, they have been wonderfully accomodating, and with the other Canadian girls staying it's a bit like a hostel, which is exactly the vibe they're trying to create.


It's been great having a kitchen. We have been busy making delicious wholemeal bread, rye bread, ceviche, iced coffee, yum yum... check out recipes and more pics at this blog.


The highlight of the last few weeks has to be Carnivale! We were invited to go with Marco to Las Tablas – apparently the place to go. And it was out of this world. A 4 day affair, what makes this one special is that there is a 50 year tradition of rivalry between carnival queens. One is from Calle Arriba (upper street) and the other from Calle Abajo (lower street). Each has their own float, and entourage. And we were with Calle Arriba – the posh lot – by virtue of our hosts. We had a place to stay nearby, with the family of Lourdes, one of the kru.


Before arriving in Panama, a Colombian friend back home suggested I look up a friend of his in Panama. What has developed is an extremely interesting social phenomenon. She is a trusted friend of my good and trusted friend. So, I have discovered for myself the law of triangular friendship/trust relationships – it seems like we have known each other for years. And her brother with whom she lives has bent over backwards to help us with the car selling. And Marco is her ex-boyfriend, and her brother's business partner, and now also a friend of ours. Visiting another city where you have friends has been wonderful at helping feel connected to the place.

So one morning at Las Tablas I woke up with an intense hangover, and came into the living room. On the TV was coverage of the Carnival. Looking closer at the TV presenter, I realised it was none other than Lourdes. How peculiar. After a quick breakfast, we proceeded for what turned out to be the daily routine – hit the carnival for the daytime session, check out the floats and get drunk. Every session (day/night) each Queen had a new float, as well as their princesses. So that's 32 different themed floats for the Carnival! Then back home, a quick bite and a nap, then back out on the streets for the night-time. We had been warned about looking after ourselves – but being with a local, Marco, and Ariel (a 6ft4 American football player) made it the safest place to be.

Back in Panama City, with my laptop charger bust in a flood, I have devoured books. Having spent 6 years at uni, reading was not something I enjoyed doing in my spare time. But now, a thirst is being quenched. Days of War, Nights of Love is a book by the CrimethInc Collective written in the 90s, a highly inspiration collection of anarcho-inspired readings. Then The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood, a disturbing dystopian story parodying contemporary patriarchy and government control. And Cuban Anarchism, translated by Frank Fernandez, a concise history chronicling the hard work put in by Cuban anarchists prior to the Revolution, and the bitter disagreements amongst anarchists over supporting Castro's version it during his reign. Then Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck, who fictionalises the 1930s wave of forced migration by US peasants to California in search of the American Dream. Finally Adelle Davis' 1950 Let's Eat Right To Keep Fit, a handy summary of the importance of vitamins, fats and protein in the diet and plenty of scientific anecdotes (unfortunately all involving animal testing). The library in Panama City has some crackers (not all the above though – 2 were from the Anarchist Bookstore in San Francisco).

Furthering our bourgeious dalliance at the Carnival, we were invited to a cheese and wine evening at a penthouse apartment in a skyrise last week – quite a view. A bit more down to earth, two bars are my joint favourite.


The first is Baños Publicos – yep, that translates as public toilets – a squatted place in the heart of Casco Antiquo, the original city that got ransacked by the infamous Welsh pirate Henry Morgan in 1671 and left in photogenic decay ever since. And it has a real squat vibe, with live salsa and reggae, a BYO alcohol policy and replete with porcelain toilet pan. The other is Bar de Cuba, which is a great place given the classy San Francisco neighbourhood, with arcade games, a pool table and $1 beers. On that note, from the Chino (local shop run by Chinese folk – as is every local shop) beer is cheaper than well-known soft drinks here (hurray!) - 40 US cents – 25 pence a bottle!

It has been nice to escape the city regularly at weekends. Last weekend we took a 3 hour trip back down the Panamerican Highway to El Valle, a town in the crater of a massive volcano, surrounded by a ring a hills. Inside is a special place, with a magical feel. We stayed at Shwami's campsite [link], a hippy campsite run by a sound Panamanian rasta, the black sheep of his family. We had time to check out the cool waterfall, but not the hot springs, as we were invited to lunch at Rico's parents' place. They designed and built it themselves and filled it full of their own stunning artwork. And a little bit of magic happened when we saw a hummingbird fly to its nest on a windchime actually on the patio area, to feed its 2 hungry mouthed children, right in front of our faces.

And the best bit of news – we both got our scholarship tickets to Burning Man for this year! To finish the trip in style! So $110 instead of $260, for a week of delectable hedonist debauchery – underlined by the principle of mutual aid - in the middle of the Nevada desert.

Chameleon

Friday 13th February 2009

Sipping gin and tonic on a balcony overlooking a park, hearing that Bonjovi track in the background behind. This is the life of a couchsurfer. My feet hurt, I could say I'm tired but the gin won't let me. Today has been spent hanging around at the mechanic's, who was fitting a replacement Oxygen Sensor on the car (these measure the mixture of fuel and air before and after the catalytic converter, returning a voltage between 0 and 1 Volt to the car's computer). The thing being broken means the "Check Engine" light is on on the dash, which needs to not be on to sell it.

That's the ostensible aim here in Panama City, to sell the damn car. It seems actually quite a good place to do that: there appears to be quite a lot of money around here. It's quite out of place in Central America after these months on the road. From Mexico southward, things got slowly more, different, relaxed, poor, rural, dusty. Then from leaving Nicaragua into Costa Rica, things took a turn for the worse. More expensive, more mimicry of Western capitalism. The large U.S. expat and holidaying "community" make travelling in a US vehicle less of a thing I want to be a part of.

our couchsurfing host, Christian

I'm glad I brought my chameleon suit (does that make me a metachameleon?). We got to Panama City quite lost, and ended up driving for 3 hours in Friday afternoon rush hour traffic trying to find Casco Antiguo. This is the old part of town that the infamous Welsh pirate Henry Morgan sacked in 17something when he decided he didn't like the Spanish but did want their gold. So we found our hotel, which looks like it hasn't changed much since Henry Morgan was here. Which of course made it a wonderful place to be, crumbling wallpaper, high ceilings, an amazing tiled lobby complete with an art deco garden table and 4 chairs, a splendid rooftop patio (no breakfasts here though), and finally nothing better than the cheapest digs in town at 11 bucks a night for us both.

Hotel Colón

So, the chameleon... get on with it. A friend from home gave me a contact of a friend of his from Bogota, who now lives in Panama. So on Saturday night, we met up and hit the town. First stop was Bennigans, the now-defunct-in-the-US chain restaurant. It's really bizzare - in Central American big cities, U.S. chain restaurants (McDonalds et al) are actually the preserve of the middle/upper class, by a considerable price margin. Well, we had a couple of beers in this place, jammed to the rafters with posh Panamanians. Then, through our friend's friends, hung out in what appeared to be the most exclusive club in town.

I think the best way to describe the theme was arctic. Air conditioning down to the max (or min...) and white everywhere. The way to drink is to buy a bottle of vodka and some flaggons of cranberry, and serve yerself DIY style. Luckily I didn't see the bill. Then after a while of shaking rhymically to stay warm and alive, we headed next door for more vodka and reggaeton.

The next day, we were invited to a barbeque at our friend's best friend's house, and had a classic Sunday sojourn. Supping and munching pretty much all day and well into the evening, it was a much needed day off before the missions with the car. I had my chameleon suit on (with tact tie in a windsor knot) when I got in a long conversation with a chap who in the end offered me a job with his "lead generation" company, in perfect American English. Lead generation (as in business leads, pronounced leeds, not lead, as in piping) involves facilitating the expansion of businesses - I highly suspect that this involves fuelling the greed of our not-so-favourite multinational corporations - and thought I was very tactful in my polite declination. I have to confess I did say that if my tax refund cheque doesn't arrive soon I would (be forced) take his kind offer.