March 30, 2023. My benefactors headed north through terrible roads which required a 4 wheel drive, and for two hours we wound our way down the hill and along the Pan American highway to Divisa, where they let me off near a bus stop. I asked how to get to Boquete and a guy on the road said to head to Santiago and then David. I caught a bus headed for Santiago and was so worried I would miss the next one that I didn’t bother eating in the cantina. A shame, because I later found out it had some of the best local food around. I had some raspados made of sugar cane from El Valle, and offered them to the ticket vendor. About half an hour later, the bus arrived, and we made our way to David. On the bus I had a wonderful conversation with an indigenous woman and her sister who were retuning from Santiago after visiting her daughter. We talked about pets and herbal medicine. I showed her photos of Henri and my garden. She told me about some of the local plants she uses for healing and said she learned most of her knowledge from books. 

I was worried that I’d miss the bus to Boquete so when I arrived at the David to the terminal, I jumped off the bus and ran to the festival café. As usual, it didn’t leave for 20 minutes, even though they said they were leaving in three. I let Richard know that I was on the bus and he met me at the taxi and helped me get my stuff to his place. It was really nice to land, and I was grateful to have a room to myself and a bathroom. I also met Ted, a Canadian staying with him. Richard was very nice and gave me a bottle that has a filter so I could drink the water more easily. He helped me land and I had dinner with them, then walked downtown. 

March 31. Richard invited me to visit the church-sponsored school for young indigenous kids. It was way up in the mountains on a treacherous dirt road, barely passable. We joined a few of his fellow church members out of town, and headed up in a jeep. It was a beautiful drive, and I was excited to see what they had created there. 

One of the members, a Canadian, had lived in town for 15 years and started the school. Since then, they had put in solar panels, two sets of storage batteries, including lithium, a network tower, two bedrooms and bath for teachers who might come up from Boquete a large kitchen, assembly room, church, computer room, and classrooms.  The kids were lovely and I got my fill of hugs for the month. They would come up to me and open their arms wide, and I would embrace them. I took the opportunity to tell the youngest group about my travels, and my own experiences with computers, since they were learning how to use a computer at a very young age. I asked them how to say earring in Spanish, and they sang head, shoulders, knees, and toes in Spanish, as well as I am a soldier of God. It was fun to sing with them. 

None of the church members speak Spanish, so I did some translating and asking questions. We spent a few hours there, and I really enjoyed The chance to see meet these kids, some of whom came from miles away in the mountains. The church had also helped build a home for one of the teachers. I was very impressed by the place. It gave me hope, though I worried that it came at a price. When we got back down the hill, I walked around town with Richard. He showed me a few places, including hello travel. It was started by Maria a very nice local, who has been very kind to Richard and speaks good English. 

We also went to the perfect pair café, which makes chocolate with cacao coming from Bocas del Toro. We had a yummy hot chocolate, complete with a chocolate spoon, and sat in the upstairs area, as Richard told me about spending the day up there while being offered unlimited food and wine and coffee, while he watched the independence celebrations in November. We walked up the street to visit Brad, who lived in the place where Richard had lived several months earlier. Brad is an avid hiker and has hiked the Appalachian Trail. He’s heading back to the states for knee surgery. We also visited an Italian food place, where Richard ate a very flaky empanada. 

We then headed to the organic food store, and I was happy to find aloe, vera, lily-of-the-valley brand, and roasted peanuts. I bought some peanut butter and dried cranberries, and he told me about the Tuesday market which caters to gringos. There he buys yogurt and bread and a mushroom and CBD oil extract, which has really helped him with his sleep. He told me about his health journey in the last few years, how he woke up one day and decided he needed to change his life, and how his Japanese wife had essentially disowned him, and was still in their house in Spokane. 

We got back to his place and I organized my things. After a little bit, I headed back down to the orchid festival, which was going on for the next week. I was very lucky to catch some folkloric dancing, which I really enjoyed. Mostly it was young people, dancing, with men and women wearing lovely, colorful costumes. I stayed till 930 or so, although I was very tired, and finally made it home to fall asleep.

April 1. I spent the morning helping Ted with WhatsApp, and listening to his life story. He told me about living on a sailboat in Campbell River and his love of sailing, and he is looking for a winter alternative to Campbell River. He’s been living in McGowan Texas for the last few years and told me about enjoying the senior community there, with all their activities. He’s the resident photographer, and said that while here he’s already taken photos of lots of locals, and emailed them copies for their own purposes. He said it was a good way for him to get to know people here. He’s looking for a place to live starting in November, and has been doing a lot of research, Richard met him the first day he was here, as he get offered him a ride. Richards very generous and let him stay. 

He was trying to connect with a woman he met the day before. He invited me to go to to meet her and some Canadians for happy hour at via Escondido, an exclusive resort up the road from where we’re staying. I said I would, and headed downtown to walk around. I chatted with Maria at Hala Panama, and we talked about the influence of the church here and how it could be very difficult to resist, the Christian evangelism. Apparently they knock on her door every Saturday and try to convert her and get angry that she’s not interested. She told me that she’s spiritual but not religious. I share her feelings. 

At 4:30 Ted called me and we met at Sugar and spice, where Julia was waiting. We headed to Valle Escondido for happy hour, and I found myself feeling a bit left out because they all know each other and were talking about people who live in their facility. After 20 minutes or so I excused myself and walked around the place, taking pictures. It’s a beautiful place that was started by Panamanian who won won the bid for the land against a coffee company. From there, I headed back down to the orchid festival, taking in the folkloric dancing again at night, and enjoying the orchids, which had been brought from many different countries in central and South America.

I had hoped the dancing would continue, but instead they made announcements for half an hour, and then played music which I didn’t like from the national police orchestra. As I headed back to the condo, they started playing music which I like a lot more, but I was tired. As I turned into the parking lot of the condo, I met Cesar, a retired policeman, who knows the owner of the condo and the security for her. We ended up talking for over an hour about his work, educating the community about the importance of stopping violence, he said that domestic violence is probably the biggest problem in the area. He helped organized vigilant residential and commercial zones in B and surrounding communities. He said that he still gets phone calls from men particular who ask him for support and help. I really enjoyed listening to him and learned a lot about the people live in the area. I told him I would come back and talk within the next night. I met a lovely young mother who is in civil engineer in the Italian gelato shop. She was there with her two kids, and we talked a bit about her work. She gave me her number. I hope to connect with her.

April 2. Ted is quite a talker. I ended up listening to him until noon up listening to Ted until noon, when I reached out to my friend, Loren, who had said he was interested in getting together for lunch.  We met at the Boquete breakfast place and he told me about his life in Florida and what brought him to Panama. When he mentioned a gringo ghetto, I almost fell off my chair. Most Americans are not aware of their privilege. He is. He told me about his friend Priscilla, a Panamanian who wants to help local people learn to feed themselves by planting gardens and using expired veggies in their cooking. 

Loren lives on Volcancitos Road and pays $600 for a small house.  We knew each other from the Neal pagan community 30 years ago. He told me about his love of songwriting, and how he used to write and perform Jimmy Buffet genre music in small venues. As Florida became more red, he felt it was time to move on.  When he came to Panama, he hooked up with the progressives in the democratic party and is glad that he still can vote in Florida.

He told me he would give me his old MacBook Pro.  I appreciate that as I’ve been writing my blog on my phone. I stopped in at Hello Travel and asked Maria about the shuttle to Bocas and Playa Catalina. From her descriptions, I decided I would rather go to Bocas. I asked her a bunch of questions, including where to catch the bus to get to the trails near Bajo Mono. I decided to head up there. It was 2 o’clock when I jumped on the bus headed to the Tres Cascadas trail. It was a 7 mile trip, but took 40 minutes by bus, as the driver waited 15 minutes after departure time before leaving in order to fill the van to the max, then stopped at the minimart to buy a drink, and finally parked half way up to wait 10 minutes while for a passenger who stopped at his home to get money to pay his fare. I might have been able to walk it in the same amount of time. 

I got off at the Pipeline trail and walked until I reached a kiosk where a woman demanded five dollars. I wasn’t aware of the fee and decided that given how less than impressed I was with the view, I would head to the more beautiful three waterfalls Trail. I found out later that because I was 60, I was eligible to a 50% discount on tickets, including trail entry and the orchid fair. There was a light rain falling and the trail was very wet and slippery. I decided to walk to the trail head for the three waterfalls trail, but after walking for 10 minutes, I decided to stick my thumb out. Some hikers who I’d seen on the Pipeline trail gave me a ride to the three waterfalls trail head. They had decided to do it as well.

I regretted not bringing my hiking poles, as everything was very slick. Also, my knee was really hurting and I knew they would have helped in ascending the steep stairs. I hiked until I got to the pace station. I already walked about 15 or 20 minutes and asked the woman what the trail was like. She said it was much steeper than what I had already climbed and would take two hours round-trip. Given that it was already 320pm, I decided to return with my hiking poles another day, hopefully when there was less water on the trail and I had a better view of the valley below. I thanked her and headed back down the hill. 

When I reach the hanging bridge over the river, I decided to turn up the river trail and walk as far as I could. I took my time looking at the plants, filled my water bottles from what looked like a very pristine stream, and took photos of a camp of indigenous coffee plantation workers. It’s very odd to me that people are charged 5 to $10 to hike on a trail. It makes me appreciate being able to walk a Rancho without paying a fee. I walked until my shoes were soaked and covered with mud. I fell in the stream and gave up, trying to keep them dry as I flushed back to the road. I noticed many clear-cuts and coffee plants where jungle had been cleared. As I walked, I realize that this whole area had been solid jungle, and that wealthy people had moved in and clear-cut in order to make money on coffee plantations. It’s a real shame. 30% of Panama is covered by mines and much of the jungle has been clear-cut for coffee.

I caught up with the truck and asked if I could take a couple guys down the hill. The guy told me to take a taxi, which I knew was at least $10. So I decided to walk. I saw a couple of private parties, on the way down and asked if I could get a ride. A car with two young German couples who were staying at Selina Lodge, and said how nice it was given that it’s quite new, gave me a ride. We talked about their travels, and they asked about mine. They were from Munich and Cologne, and wish they had more than three weeks off work to explore the country. We had a nice chat on the way down, and they wished me a good journey. It was 415, and I headed to sugar and spice, a pastry shop that I had designs on since I’d arrived, but it closed early because it was Sunday.  

I headed to the park, but it was locked. Daily hours are 8 to 5:30. There were lots of families enjoying the river side.  I called my mom and Bob. She said that she was struggling with depression and frustration, and thinking of putting Bob in a memory unit. I asked her not to, rather to get help, and resolved to find a good caregiver. I’ve add too much experience watching people be locked in those places, and go downhill very quickly as a result. I didn’t want Bob to feel isolated and trapped. 

From there, I headed back to the orchid fair, hoping to catch the baile typico aka folkloric dance, and caught about an hour. Later I wandered around, and bought a Colombian leather wallet from one vendor, and a leather backpack from another. The second vendor was very nice, and we talked about politics and travel in Columbia and how cheap it is there. She told me she thought I was from Spain from my accent. I was very flattered. 

I headed back to the condo, and had another long chat with Cesar, who was standing guard from 6 PM to 6 AM. He told me about how the condo was built on an indigenous cemetery, and how he had seen a man with a hood in cream colored clothing walking down the street, and then disappearing, and how he had heard cries like those of La Llorona.  It seems that there’s a fair bit of belief in the supernatural here. I had seen one of the huts at the fair dedicated to La Llorona as well. 

April 3. Since I met Julian, the fire fighter from El Valle de Anton, we have been in daily communication. I was touched by his kind heart and love of nature. He felt like a kindred spirit as we stood and silently listened to birds at the foot of Cerro Gaital. I invited him to visit me. Last night I contemplated whether it made sense for me to haul a 6 pound laptop with me on the trip and decided that it would be better to give it away. At first, I offered it to Cesar, the guard at the place I’m staying, but then I thought about Julian and asked him if he was interested. He said he has wanted one for some time and that I could send it via Uno Expres. I boxed it up and tried to send it when I went down to David with Ted, but the truck left at 2 o’clock on Thursday. I arrived at 2:01pm. I was more than a bit frustrated that I have to return Monday to try again. 

Today I went into an Ecuadorian-owned store as I saw that they sold alpaca goods. It turns out that Ecuadorians also make clothing out of alpaca. Who knew. I wanted to replace the alpaca hat that I lost before I left. I ended up buying two hats and a large, lightweight shawl. The young man who helped me told me about life in Ecuador and why they left. Apparently, when the currency fell in 2000, many Ecuadorians emigrated, including his father 10 years later. The family followed, and they set up a store in Boquete Bay. He told me that Ecuador is quite a bit cheaper than Columbia, which is much cheaper than Panama. Many refugees from Venezuela have emigrated to Ecuador and the rest of South America due to political crisis, and he like many accuse them of being ladrones, stealing and making trouble. I think this happens often when people immigrate to another country, that they are seen as the scapegoat.

The indigenous school I had the pleasure to visit last Friday where Gary claimed that they often heal people by laying on of hands. I thought it was ironic since they already had a culture of healing prior to Christianity. No wonder they are good at laying on hands. Boquete was referred to as the valley of the moon. The Panamonte Inn and Spa was started in 1914 by man from Texas, who came here to improve his health and ended up living much longer than expected. 

I reflected on what it used to be like here as I walked by Princess Janca coffee plantation, now owned by Trujillo, former female president of Panama. As I walked by, I saw indigenous workers packed into the back of a pickup being shipped back to their living quarters in the forest. It reminded me of workers I had seen at a banana plantation in Baja California, with some similarities to African slaves being transported in the hold of ships. As I walked past, I saw a lot of old equipment. Apparently they used to manufacture coffee at Princess Janca, but now they only grow coffee there. The former female president of Panama who lives in El Valle still owns it. I also reflected on the fact that people used to build their homes out of wood here, and now they use cement because it’s much more affordable. There’s still a few wooden homes around but most of them are very dilapidated and for sale. I wondered about the places that are for sale, and whether people just abandoned them and left. 

Apparently the owner of the Panamonte Inn and Spa, the daughter of the Texan who started it used to live in a condo where I’m staying now. Cesar told me about the Conejo Indians, who he said worshiped albinism and had been cannibals. He told me about how to chiefs aka caciques are elected. It seems a much safer method of leadership. He mentioned the 2 Dutch girls found dead on the El Pianista trail. I met a French traveler who was been bitten by a dog there. On the walk down, I saw a green snake resting its body on a barbed wire fence about chest level. I jumped back out of fear. 

I headed down to the orchid, fair as I did every night. This night I met a lovely young woman from Guatemala, who invited me to visit her when I came to come to Antigua. Her sister is currently living in the United States, and she offered me her room. She is a very enthusiastic person, although when she told me about her sister, I could tell she was quite sad and missed her. She said she’s a leader in her local church.

April 4. I hung out with Ted and Richard until the afternoon, when I headed back to the orchid fair where I asked about the timing of festivities. Apparently, there is going to be a passion play by the young people in town Wednesday evening. I decided to walk up towards Jaramillo. I walked up the road all the way, which was quite annoying, because of a lot of cars. When I got towards the top, I discovered I removed pathway from the fair, and result to take it on the way back Got all the way to the dirt road that crosses the mountain, before heading down. I discovered a roofed, walking path up the mountain, and result to come back the next day and take it.

It was nice winding my way through houses and gardens. The patch was pretty well-made with cement and a corrugated roof. I’m assuming for the rainy season, I headed back down at 5 o’clock and caught some of the dancing, which was done by adults and wasn’t very good. I was disappointed, as I’ve seen very good dancing by the young people on the weekend. As with my usual, I hung out at the fair until about 9 o’clock, I was interested in the leather products and ended up buying a wallet for Shawn and a backpack for me, more of a purse, backpack, from a Colombian woman, who is very nice and talked quite a bit about Columbia and how nice it was to travel there.

April 5. It was another lazy start, I hung out with at the house for a few hours before heading to town. I walked down to the Haven, which Ted recommended, which has a very beautiful yard, and asked about lodging. 200 a night for one person without tax! I also on the way back up the road I looked at Selina Hospital, which is very nice and new. They charge a pretty penny. There’s a coworker space which charges $40 for the day, and private concrete culverts that i thought were tiny homes for homeless for the affordable price of 50, with only enough room for a bed. I felt grateful for my free place to stay.

I wanted to be back in time for the passion play at 7, which I found out about after inquiring at the orchid, fair. From there I headed up the hill toward Jaramillo. This time I decided to walk the entire circuit, not knowing what I was getting myself into. I don’t know the elevation gain, but it was grueling, and took me 3 1/2 hours. On the way, I saw a man tending his cows, coffee finca workers walking with their machetes, and I walked through a number of paths that went into the coffee farms. I assume the paths are for workers to attend to the plants. I was worried I’d be caught, but was willing to risk it to experience the raw beauty of the place. 

April 6. Ted asked me if I wanted to head to David, and I decided I would take him up on it. I need to get some sanitary pads from a larger grocery store, as the ones I found here were in  packs of 5 max. We left at 9:45. I was hoping to drop off the computer for Julian in buying them done at Uno express, but Ted was nervous about getting to the dentist on time, so I suggested we do it on the way back. He asked my opinion and told me his concerns about having a root canal done today given that he had an infection. I suggested that he wait, as he wouldn’t lose bone in two weeks unless it was a very unusual situation. He seemed to want me to wait around at the office until he felt comfortable. I took my leave when it was clear to both of us that the dentist spoke English well. 

I haven’t yet been in David and wanted to explore, so I left the office and walked the residential neighborhood for 45 minutes. I really needed to use the bathroom, and found a restaurant called La Contessa, but felt uncomfortable asking to use the bathroom without paying, so I ordered chicken soup, a thin broth with big chunks of meat on the still on the bone, including a chicken neck. 

Ted and I had a misunderstanding about where we would meet, and he seemed quite upset with me. I was able to make it back to the meeting place within three minutes of his call, but that didn’t seem to rectify the situation for him. I had sent him a message letting him know that I would be walking in the neighborhood and ask him to give me a call before he arrives so I could get back in time. He got upset with me trying to navigate to the super market, and seemed to think I should know where it was. I saw a super 99 ahead on the right, and suggested we go there. 

He said you’re very impatient when people don’t move as fast as you do and I can tell you’re upset with me. I told him that that wasn’t how I felt, but he didn’t seem to accept it, and reiterated that I was angry. Needless to say, the mood was awkward, and I felt very uncomfortable. I attempted to explain myself, but he didn’t seem open to hearing it. On the way back, he spoke about his time in New Zealand, and how much he loved it there. He said he’d love to live there but for the expense. When he was last there, when hostels were four dollars a night.

When I got to the Uno Express shipping store, I was told that I had missed the delivery truck by two minutes. They said they couldn’t process the package today, nor could I leave it there, since the next four days were Semana Santa. I was very frustrated. We returned to the condo, and I headed down to Jo Ann’s place, who had asked us to help with the Easter baskets. It turns out that she had asked people to gather at noon, not 230, which is what Richard had told us. I still was able to help, and met a few people, and then listened for an hour to a friend of hers from Colorado Springs, and now lives in Caldera on 10 acres of land with horses and pigs.

Jo Ann exhorted me to help them distribute Easter eggs and baskets, and explain to the indigenous women about sanitary pads and help measure them for dresses Saturday and Sunday. I agreed reluctantly, as my Spanish is not 100% proficient, but she told me that hers was nonexistent, and that she needed my help. Today was the beginning of Semana Santa, also called Santa Mayor, in catholic Panamá. most Panamanians either go to the beach and relax, or return to their roots, and have a reunion in their place of origin or a place they like. Boquete seemed to be one such place, and by the time Thursday night rolled around, many Panamanian families had already arrived. The mood in the street was festive. Around 730, I joined a procession of women from the church after sitting through part of the mass. A young swiss woman and I were both captivated by the singing and spirituality. 

Semana Santa begins un earnest on Wednesday and continues through Sunday eve. I looked forward to the daily religious festivities: masses, processions, candlelight vigils, stations of the cross, passion plays, and a parade of religious floats of Jesus and La Dolorosa. The town had transformed from a bunch of ex-pats and gringos to Panamanian families native to the area and here to celebrate the religious holidays. It was a chance for me to immerse myself in the culture of the place, and gave me a very different feel for the area. I was sorry the week would end.

Around 8:30, I headed to the gelato place, which had become my favorite in Panamá, and met a kind older woman who I invited to sit down beside me on the bench outside. She is from David, and we had a very nice conversation. It turns out her family has a reunion here in B every Easter week. So they were all here, and after we spoke, her grandson, Felipe, introduced himself. We spoke for a few minutes, and he gave me his number, since they would be in town for a few days as part of their reunion. It turns out the family used to own land and a coffee farm way up in Alto Quiel, which is named after their family. 

April 7. I wanted to do the Alto Lino loop again. Thought I’d have coffee at Kotiwa, but it was closed till noon and it was only 11. So I walked up the hill from B and turned left at the sign for Arco Iris.  It took me an hour to get to Altieri specialty coffee and ordered a latte which was too small. I returned the next day for a flat white a capuchino but bigger. After relaxing bit I headed back down the hill toward Jaramillo. Nora a Swiss friend that I met the day before in church, wrote and asked if I wanted to go to tres cascadas Trail. I said yes, and told her that we have to catch a bus by 2 o’clock because it will close at 3pm. We met at the bus stop, but of course the bus with leaving for 20 minutes, and said we make it in time.

He ended up going way out of the way up to Horqueta for an indigenous woman who is living there alone. By the time we got to the trail head was the o’clock. We raced of the trail and the woman at the kiosk charged us $10 each and told us we had to be out by five when they lock the gate. She told us it takes an hour or more one-way, and we wondered how we were going to finish in time. Because of the time constraint we raced up the trail, which was very difficult as it was very steep. Nora commended me for my fortitude. It was sad that we had to rush as I’d hoped to look at the wildlife more. We got to the last waterfall in 45 minutes. I think it was a record. We had to send a very steep muddy trail  between the second and third waterfall, using a knotted rope to ascend and descend. 

I met a young man at the last waterfall. He was barefoot and said he was earth sensing. He reminded me of some friends of mine who walk barefoot on trails in California. We went at a more relaxed pace on the way back, as we knew we’d make it back before 5 PM. When we got to the road, the same driver who misled us about getting to the trail head on time was there, and said it would only be a 20 minute wait. Given his bad track record, I ran down the hill and asked a couple if we could get a ride. They said yes, and it turned out they were on holiday from Germany. It was nice, as Nora could speak with them in their native tongue.

It turns out that they were at the end of a two week driving tour through Panama. They especially loved the San Blas Islands and were staying in one of the concrete bunkers at Selina hostel. Interesting, as I met another European couple staying in one. They let us off near the church, and Nora and I parted ways. I was wiped out, and headed back to my room to wash my clothes. I spent about an hour and a half here, watched a little of the Bourne conspiracy, and then headed to La Gelateria Italiano. 

There I met Felipe and his family to watch the parade, which featured floats of Christ and La Dolorosa. This was Good Friday, and earlier there had been a mass.  Raymundo had walked 20 km from David to Alanje Thursday eve as a kind of pilgrimage. I talked with Felipe, his girlfriend, and Raymundo for about an hour. Raymundo was very interesting, and told me about the year he spent living in Detroit. They were all surprised that most Americans who come here to live don’t learn Spanish. Raymundo planned to wake his family up at 5:30 the next morning watch the sunrise. I wasn’t sure if it was part of a religious, cultural, or family tradition.  

Both Felipe and Raymond are engineers. Felipe is now studying economics on his scholarship, and said he may want to be a professor. I felt lucky to have met them, and hopefully we would have more interactions before they departed for Panama City. By the end of our conversation, I was too tired to stand. I bid them good night and gave Abuela a kiss on the cheek, bidding all the family members mucho gusto before returning to the condo, where I had a brief conversation with Cesar about how to say sanitary napkins, and his opinion about how to approach the indigenous women the next day.

April 8. I woke early to a cock crow, which I’ve heard repeatedly at dawn for the last three or four days. I thought about closing the window, but it’s stifling if I do. I woke and talk to Richard briefly. He asked me about my background, and I gave him a synopsis of my academic experience, my job experience, my health challenges, and what I’ve been doing in terms of travel. He thanked me, and I was happy to have the interaction. I had told Jo Ann I would meet her at her place at one, so I felt constricted for time. 

I finally made my way out the door two hours later, and went for a two hour walk in Alto Lino, and stopping at Alteri specialty coffee on the way. This time I started by crossing the Panamonte bridge. I was rushing and pulled my hamstring partway up, so I had to slow down quite a bit. I had a less than relaxing time and rushed back to Jo Ann‘s apartment. It turned out that the driver, Fernando, wouldn’t be ready until 2pm, so she told us to come back at 150. I went for a brief walk to the gated Valle Escondido, then returned to her apartment and helped her load Easter baskets and eggs. We drove downtown to the wholesale store, where we met Fernando.

I was hoping I would get to speak with him, and luckily, he asked me to come with him, so for the next 4 1/2 hours he filled me with information about the indigenous people here, how he learned their language, medicinal plants which he learned from his grandparents and books, and helped me communicate with the indigenous people when I was having trouble. Fernando knows a lot about the native plants as well as birds and he’s a professional guide. I would love to hire his services, but he’s more than I can afford.

He told me about the history of resource extraction in the area, beginning with the railroad built in 1911, which ran until 1949.  Apparently Americans and foreigners did a number on the jungle here, and cut down most of the hardwood during those years. Americans and Europeans moved here during the building of the panama canal because of the lack of malaria and yellow fever, as well as cooler temperatures.  I’m guessing that the train stop running when there were no more trees to cut. There are many non-native trees growing here, including pine and eucalyptus.

By the end of the day I was exhausted. I returned for a short bit to the condo, then headed downtown and crept into the church, which was dark and lit only by candle light. There I sat for about an hour, listening to readings from the Bible alternately with singing and oration from the pastor. It was very spiritual experience, especially because I didn’t understand much of what was being said. I finally left and tried to connect with Felipe and Raymond. It turned out that Felipe was in David listening to his cousin sing, while Raymond was still in the mass. I suggested that we could meet tomorrow. I was not looking forward to the next day, as it was exhausting to have to communicate in Spanish. Jo Ann had asked me to commit to both days, as she doesn’t speak any Spanish. It was humbling to experience the limitations of my vocabulary. 

April 9. Easter. I hope to wake up for the 9 AM mass, but slept in and finally went down at 10. I felt a little bit awkward with Ted, and asked him if there was anything he wanted to discuss in the text I had sent him, where I appreciated him and apologize for the misunderstanding. He said that it wasn’t, and I knew this was the last day he would be here, so I tried to connect as much as I could, but I really wanted to go down and see the traditional celebrations. I had told Jo Ann I would meet her at 2 o’clock. 

I ran into Meg outside the church. 9 AM have been a mass in English, which I wasn’t as interested in as the Spanish mass. I decided to walk towards Tree Trek aand hoped I could get there and back in time. I headed over the road to Jaramillo, and decided partway up the hill to hitchhike. I ended up meeting a very nice family from Panama City, who were going up to cheer on their son and other family members who are doing zip lining. 

Luis, the father, was very warm and welcoming, and had spent four years or so in the United States, and spoke English very well. His wife was very lovely and looked quite a bit younger, and his two daughters, Denise, who looked very much like the mother, and Dolores, a who took after his him. We all sat down. When we arrived, we found we all ordered coffee, and they ordered lunch, and returning a bit while waiting for their family to appear for the final zip line. Luis said he had done this before, and was very afraid of heights.  I wanted to spend more time with them, but about 1230 I decided to start walking down the hill. It was a good seven or 8 km walk back, and I was afraid I would be late. As it was, I ended up getting pretty severe diarrhea, and had to use the restroom at the rock restaurant. As I stole in, I took some photos of the Buffay, which was very fancy. It’s a hoity-toity place.

I told Jo Ann I had diarrhea and would be a few minutes late. As it was, I was 15 minutes late, and she almost left without me. I jumped in the car after jumping in the shower, and we went down to meet Francesca a Swiss lady who wanted to help an indigenous family she knew. I sat in the back with her dog Chica. We met the family to whom she’s very close and I took many photos per Jo Ann’s request. Them we left and headed up to the coffee finca where a man that Jo Ann knows was preaching to workers on the coffee farm. It was hard for me to listen, because it was a lot about having to publicly show that you were putting your faith in Christ. 

I hoped that no one would volunteer, and luckily no one did. Finally, the man seemed to give up. I commended him on his beautiful Spanish, and he said he coming up in Venezuela. Spanish is actually his first language. I was supposed to hand out Easter baskets and food, but I was in a deep discussion with Chilo a nave man who told me about his life. I initially commented on how beautiful his hat was. It was made by hand. We sat together with his sister Avelina and talked about how beautiful nature is. He was saying how he didn’t like Boquete because it was full of foreigners. I agreed. He invited me to visit him and told me about a Canadian guy he had invited to stay and his discomfort with the simplicity of his domicile. Dirt floors etc 

When we left, Jo Ann was miffed, because I hadn’t taken photos of her, handing out the baskets as she wanted. I hadn’t I am going to wrapped up in a conversation, and she hadn’t reminded me before we arrived. I felt guilty, but eventually she got out of it, and told me more about her life and how she ended up teaching to Hanson. I asked her how she had become a teacher in one who inspired her. She’s an interesting person and I was glad that she got off the blame train. We got back quite late, and I had an uneasy sleep, wondering whether I needed to talk with Richard about staying with her instead even though, when I asked her about it, she didn’t seem nearly as eager to help me stay. I was uncertain what to do with my sleep.

April 10. I wanted to check with Richard about my staying longer. I figured that when Ted left, he would want me to leave too. So I was relieved when upon mentioning that I wanted to stay till next Monday, he suggested that I stay here while he was gone. I double checked and asked if he was sure. He said yes. Relieved, I left to meet Nora, my sweet friend. We met at the chocolate shop, and had a very rich breakfast, which didn’t help my stomach any. I ended up having more diarrhea that day as well. At 12:30 she had to leave, and I Bought a infinity scarf from the Ecuadorian place, then headed back to the condo. 

I spent some time with Richard, and around 430 headed back down the hill. I walked across the Panaonte bridge and did the circuit to Alto Lino which took about two hours. I met some birders who are here for the entire month and they told me some of the birds they’d seen. I spent most of the walk looking for birds. I returned around 8 after eating gelato and meeting Beralis who had Wyoming plates. He asked whether I had a condition that made me walk so much. I did my best not to get defensive, and responded that for me, and nature is my salve and my teacher, and that I when I’m traveling, I tend to spend most of my time outside. He apologized for putting me on the defensive.

April 11. Day of coffee tour and Tuesday market. I walked down to the Tuesday market at 10:20, having finally slept well. I had a nice time there, and met Bruce and Regina, who are trying to create a coffee and cacao farm in Santa Fe de Veraguas. They invited me to visit and said they would show me around. We spoke French. Bruce told me about living in the Congo in Africa for 25 years, and said he was more African than Spanish or French. He had a Coffee and coatco plantation there. In Spain he was making equipment that was he used to process coffee and fatale internationally. That’s what got him involved in growing. He’s lived in Spain, France and Africa. He said that he had people tried to kill him five or six times, or they would run in with a machete, and he had to keep a pistol under his bed, he got tired of having to do self-defense all the time. When he first arrived in Panama he was going to buy a pistol, and was asked why.

I met a nice Canadian surfer and his dad on the coffee tour. We were driven up to the farm, over 100 ha which continues up the mountain to over 2500 m. Don Pepe started the farm in 1898. The indigenous man giving the tour first started working here when he was 17, 23 yrs ago. At that time they did not process coffee, just picked it and sent it to be processed elsewhere. Don Tony was Pepe’s son and initiated building a processing facility in 2003. Don Tony passed away in 2018, and since then his sons run the farm. 

They started roasting beans to sell in 2019, since coffee roasters make the lions share of the profit. Coffee is sold as a commodity. For example, today green coffee sells for 3.50 a kilogram while roasted coffee sells for at least $25 a kilogram. We learned that an average worker, almost always, and indigenous person, picks 100 kg of coffee beans per day. Yellow bean is sweeter than red. Hand selected picking. Presorting with water. If float no good. Insects or fungus. Floater is processed for instant or ground coffee. 

In Boquete coffee is harvested from November to April. In Nov and Dec only 20 percent is ripe.  In Jan and Feb 60 percent is ripe. The last 20 percent are harvested in March and April. These are mostly low grade beans like floaters. As he explained this, we walked between coffee plants, and then he took us to the drying beds. Peeled coffee beans take one month to dry. Unpeeled take 2 months. In addition to the drying beds outside, they can also dry them by machine, although it affects the flavor. Once dry, they bag and age them in a warehouse for 6 months. There are three husks (pulp, parchment, silver skin) and two beans in each cherry. 

If coffee beans are dried in fruit form with skin on, it’s called natural process. If they are peeled and dried, it’s called honey process. If peeled washed and dried, it’s called washed process. Washed is the  most common and is an industrial prices. Another process is anaerobic and involves fermentation in water for a few days. The plants we walked through were 30 years old.  They are pruned to keep them harvestable. Without pruning these plants can grow up to 25 feet. 

Before being roasted, they must be separated by size, shape, density, color, and defects. Separation by color and defects must be done by hand. Taste is influenced by type of plant, region, variety, and process.  It takes 7 kg of picked beans to make 1 kg of coffee. Due to climate change, coffee plants are now blooming in January instead June. Approximately 140000 kg of coffee beans are picked at this farm every year. They sell 20,000 kg to Illy, 20,000 to Starbucks in NYC, and the other 100,000 kg to Korea, Japan, and China. Workers at Don Pepe need to pick about 1 million kg of beans each year. 

At the end we got to experience coffee tasting. We were asked to smell the ground beans before and after water was added, then after stirring, and finally tasting. fragrance before water.  We tasted different beans including Bourbon which is fermented. The couple next to me said it smelled like poo. I agreed. We tried two different types of geisha, which averages $30 a cup. It’s particularly loved by Asians for its light tea like flavor and lack of aftertaste.

The indigenous guide talked a lot about changes to life here since 1997, when a website called international living told expats that B was the fourth best place in the world to live. Essentially a real estate company, they made out like bandits due to resulting skyrocketing land values. It was very sad to hear. We were at the end of the tour. We drove back down the sinewy road, and I hung out for an hour with the Canadian father and son who were on the tour. Around 6pm I took my leave and went walking on the other side of the Panamonte bridge. It was the first night I saw fire flies, and I walked as far as I could before turning back due to headlights.

April 13. The father son team were serious hikers. The son is a surfer, and they had already hiked 13 trails in the area when I met them. They were determined to add the quetzal trail to the mix. They were not discouraged by the fact that it is currently closed to the public and invited me to join them for a hike early. I was inspired, but by the time I woke up they had gone. I took the bus around 1030 to the three waterfalls trail, and from there walked toward the end of the road and the trailhead. It was a very steep climb and I stuck my thumb at one point. The driver stopped and I met Carlos Sabin, a local farmer who owns a lot of land, including a farm up above the trail head. We disembarked at the entrance to his farm, where we entered dense jungle. He wanted to show me 2 lovely waterfalls. 

On the walk down, he pointed out the tracks  of a puma, as well as the home of an aardvark sized animal in a rock crevice. We crept down the trail, careful not to disturb any plants. I was impressed by his protectiveness toward the flora and fauna. We talked a lot about the disappearing wildlife in Panama, due in part to foreigners buying large tracts of land that had previously been jungle or farm land. After admiring the beauty of this precious place, he drove up the precipitous road to his farm. On the way, he pointed out a huge fallen tree that had badly injured one of his workers, who was still in the hospital. They had to carry the remaining wood up the hill, which weighed hundreds of pounds. 

He drove past the house he constructed (his home away from home complete with a hammock and television on his porch) to the water tank into which he pipes water to gravity feed sprinklers. The aqueduct was supposed to reach farms located at a higher elevation than the river such as his, but when the Israeli government gave the Panamanian government millions of dollars to build it, politicians in Panama pocketed half, resulting in a partially built aqueduct. He took me to see the source of the aqueduct the following day upstream of Rio caldera.

We walked to a grove of trees above the farm, as he wanted to show me a quetzal. Apparently these birds hang out there, because they really like the fruit of a particular tree. He spotted one, but I didn’t see it. They are remarkably fast birds. He pointed out their call, and told me to head down a particular trail to find the trail head. the trees above his farm, where we listen for the quetzal. I heard them calling back-and-forth to one another, and he said they hang out here because they like the fruit. We were very quiet for a few minutes, when he excitedly pointed one out.  I didn’t see it. They move fast.

We walked through the forest of giant trees, and he told me I could continue straight to find the Sendero de Quetzal. I came quickly, came to fork in the trail, and took the left path, after about 15 or 20 minutes I ended up climbing over a huge tree, and ending up in a cleared area where cattle were grazing. I approached an indigenous farmer who told me I had missed the trail, and needed to go back. I backtracked and this time took the trail to the right down a very steep hill. I came to several forks and each time took the path that headed downhill.  

After 45 minutes, I was rewarded by the unexpected appearance of a volcan Baru national park sign. About 15 minutes later, I came to sign pointing to the highly sought after trail. But as an all quests, things were not as they seemed and I went the wrong way, ending up at an abandoned trout farm. Later that afternoon when I met Carlos on the road, he told me it had been owned by a very close friend and neighbor who had passed away suddenly two years earlier.

I walked back to the fork. I was finally on the famed Quetzal Trail! A few minutes later I came upon two young backpackers who had started at the other end of the 7 km trail near Guadalupe. Apparently that entrance was not guarded. they told me about the first bridge, which was down, and the second bridge, which was very unstable, and probably shouldn’t be walked on. They said they preferred Cerro Punta to B, as the former is reminiscent of B 25 years ago pre-discovery by the gringo Expat world.  

I lost the trail when I got in the river, and backtracked to find that I had to jump across to the other side. I hiked a little ways further, then turned back, as Carlos had told me to meet him at 3:30. It hadn’t left much time to explore and I regretted having made the commitment. I rushed back up the hill only to find that he wasn’t at the farm. I told his workers that I would head back on the road towards the three waterfalls trail. 

I spotted Carlos after having walked about 20 minutes down the hill. He gave me a ride down to his house outside of B where workers were harvesting lettuce from his garden to ship to Panama City. I waited as he weighed produce and kibitzed with his workers. He told me that the price he gets for local produce is greatly impacted by illegally imported produce from Mexico and Costa Rica, which doesn’t have to pay tariffs. 

He offered me a ride the next morning and said he would pick me up at 8 AM. I asked if it could be later, as I don’t wake up early very readily. He said, no, that he had commitments. I agreed  and bid him farewell, got my usual 4 scoops of gelato, and  headed home to rest. It had been a long day. I checked in with the Canadian guys. They had been turned back from trail at the guard station and planned to go earlier the next day hoping to miss the guard. I told them about the farm above the trail, and the possibility of taking a detour to the trail. Little did I know I would run into them the next day.

April 14. I slept horribly because I was worried about missing the ride. It’s hard for me to wake up at 7:40. I dreamt that I’d missed it.  As it was, I got there on time and Carlos didn’t show up until 9 AM. At 8am he texted me that he’d be 15 minutes late so I stayed more or less in the same area. If I known he’d be an hour late, I would’ve gone for a proper walk. While waiting I hiked up to some pine trees and watched woodpeckers climbing and parrots flocking. I wanted to hike up the ridge which I’ve looked at every day from Richard’s terrace, but a dog stood guard, and I was worried about missing the ride.

I was getting more and more frustrated. Shawn called and we chatted while he waited to depart for Paris from London. Finally, Carlos showed up. He said he had to seed tomato plants that his workers had forgotten to do the day before I reminded myself that the life of a farmer is not easy.  We drove up towards his farm, and he took a detour to show me an aqueduct that had been built thanks to help from the Israeli government. It was essentially a metal pipe from Rio caldera that transmitted water to fincas at lower altitudes. According to Carlos, the Panamanian government had pocketed half the money, so fincas at a higher altitude than the river did not get water from the pipe and had to Jerry rig a solution. 

Today he told me to walk up the hill to the above the trees where I saw when he saw the kids all two of look out where the farmer kept his cows. He said it was a very steep climb, and that I should go calmly and slowly. I started up the precipitous incline, wondering how cows would make it up such a trail, when who did I see but the two Canadians, seemingly exhausted, hurtling down the path.  It turned out they had gotten lost the same way. I had the day before, and had searched high and low to try to find a way to the trail head based on their GPS. They had been surprisingly close, but were separated by a valley, and Ended up going all the way up to the top before deciding to come down.

I told him I would show them the way to the trail, and turned around to head down the hill. We chatted, and they said they thought they would’ve found it on their own. In any case I was glad to be of some help, and felt somewhat responsible for their being here, since I had suggested that they hike to the farm to get around the guard. It turned out the guard head with them at the farm Road as well the day before, and they had walked all the way to the entrance gate before turning around. We got to the trail head and walked about 15 minutes in, crossing the river, before they decided to turn around. They said they were heading to the beach, Layus or something, and I did them for a while. Later that day, I checked in and asked how the beach was, and son said that they never made it, that  it was a funny story, and that they ended up staying near B and planned to hike the trail (there and back) the next day. 

As I walked along the trail, some thing called my attention, and I looked up to see a quetzal, flying through the forest, followed by another. I grabbed my phone, but was too late. Then I saw two guys further at the trail with a camera, and I hoped they have gotten a picture. I was in luck. They were from Prague, and had started the trail from the other side near Guadalupe and were  planning to head back. They had taken a video of the bird, and showed it to me. It was beautiful. I asked if they could email it to me. They were very kind and said yes. I have yet to receive their email. Hopefully they’ll remember.  

27 firemen from the Bocas del Toro region came blasting down the trail, some faster than others, as part of a GPS training. I was afraid they would tell me to get off the trail, but instead they said hello, and were very jolly. A female fighter asked if I was alone, and when I said yes, she said it’s dangerous.  I thought about hiking the Pacific Crest trail alone, which was much more dangerous than this trail, but said nothing. The Czech guys told me that this was the nice part of the trail, and that once you hit the stairs, it was boring, while the other side was much dryer. I   started hiking the stairs, but after five or 10 minutes thought better of it, since my knee had been hurting quite a bit, and going up and down stairs was the worst thing for it.

I took my time, returning to the farm, and ended up hiking up to the viewpoint. I got back at 4:02 pm and assumed that two minutes would not make or break. I was wrong. Carlos had left, unbeknownst to me, and I was on my own getting back. Again I felt frustrated, as I had cut my trip short in order to not worry him. Instead, he had left me in the lurch. I didn’t find out that he had actually left until an hour or so later. In the meantime, I had walked back down the hill, and finally asked someone for a ride as I was very weary. I had a nice conversation with a young man who is planning to move to Portugal in December. He’s looking forward to it and feels that his life will be much better there. I got out near the Fresas Café, and got strawberry ice cream, then walked in the neighborhood. Finally I headed down the hill and made my way back to the condo.

I reached out to Carlos and asked him if he was angry or upset, but he didn’t answer for a couple of days. Finally, I wrote to him in Spanish, and he said he didn’t have the ability to translate from English and thus hadn’t responded. I put him in touch with Edgar, the biologist in El Valle de Anton about the golden frog, and Jonathan, the ecotour operator and owner of Truly Panamá. I see my mission as networking and connecting people. It’s something I’ve always done.  

April 15.  I had a horrible stomach ache last night, complete with diarrhea and gas. Most likely it was the gelato, which I’ve had almost daily (4 small scoops). It didn’t help that I had a latte around 1230pm, and coffee ice cream at 7:30pm. caffeine and lactose are not friends of my stomach.  My knee had also been hurting for over a week, although I noticed the magnesium liniment that Richard lent me really helped, especially with restless leg syndrome. I decided to take it easy, although I did plan to walk. 

Just as I was planning to go for my walk, Richard arrived with two friends he had met in Panama City, Brendan and Kara. They were a lovely 30 year old couple who had just rented a place on Volcancitos Road and were contemplating relocating to B. Brendan told me that they left Florida for Athens Greece just before the pandemic on a trip that was supposed to last a few weeks. He said it was ideal because he was able to name his price for a place to stay. He made an offer of $600 on a house that normally rented for 3000 for the weekend. Because there were no tourists, Athenians who normally could ask an elevated price were desperate and accepted.

They had also lived in Tbilisi, Georgia, as well as Caheti, where they had friends who owned a winery. They loved Georgia, and were surprised that I had been there also. They had lived in the touristic center of Tbilisi, near the mother of Georgia and the Turkish baths.  Kara was a health coach and is now a intuitive eating counselor. She said it fits her much better, as she struggled with her own body image as a young person, and feels that it’s her avocation.  They have adopted a new puppy, Ori, who was incredibly cute. He had a cloth frog chew toy and sacked out on the couch after running around like mad, while we all talked. Kara does online counseling with her clients, while Brendan sells electric stoves as drop sales. He originally wanted to sell Wood fire stoves, but didn’t have the necessary license to do so.

They’ve been digital nomads for three years, and have been looking for a place to settle down. They recently arrived in B, and really liked the weather and general feel of the place. They needed to take the dog home, so we headed up Volacitos to see their new abode. what a lovely spot! I was charmed by their extensive garden featuring numerous flowering plants and trees, native orchids, statues, volcanic rock walls, and water features.  From the porch, they have a panoramic view of the volcano and valley. The interior of the house has been beautifully renovated and includes a walk in Jacuzzi tub and spacious master bedroom bath, large bedrooms, and very spacious kitchen and living room. And all for only 1200 a month. I understood why people moved here. We hunflg around for a while before heading back to watch the parade  

The parade of independent bands was supposed to start at 4pm. We walked together to the chocolate shop, where Richard treated them to a hot chocolate. They figured they would watch the parade from upstairs. But as Richard pointed out, the parade was on Panama time, so didn’t start till 745pm. I bid them farewell and walked up to the Panamonte Inn to watch the parade start. After 20 minutes I headed down to the park to take a gander at the Panamanian families who eat, relax and hang out there on the weekend. I ate some watercress, and decided to walk the Jaramillo arriba loop. At one point on the climb, I met Omeldo, a young man who was watering his asparagus. He asked me if I recognize the plants and I said I did, but couldn’t place it. We had a nice conversation, and he said he wished he could grow cannabis here, but the penalty was much too stiff. I thought it was ironic that I’m allowed to grow, but am not interested. He asked why I was walking so late. I explained that I’d been hanging out with friends, and that I needed to keep walking, as the light was fading fast. I told him about my blog and asked to keep in touch.  

I grabbed a stick part way up as I always did. It was more to ward off the dogs than for as an aid my knee. I like Jaramillo, as there’s more nature and less houses here. It’s very steep on much of the road and around 7 started getting very dark. I was hoping that a good Samaritan would offer me a ride down the hill but started losing hope, as there was almost no traffic. At one particularly steep uphill section, I put my thumb out as a car came toward me. I didn’t imagine that they would be able stop.  They seemed to slow but kept going, and I continued to walk on. About five minutes later they came back even though they live in Jaramillo just to save me from having to walk down in the dark. We had a really nice talk in the car, and I thanked them profusely for their generosity. 

It turns out that they are missionaries in the Dominican republic, where they were stationed on a particularly beautiful beach with golden sand. During the pandemic, they did a lot of humanitarian relief work there, feeding people and helping build homes. Just before they picked me up, I’d been listening to the audiobook “My grandmother‘s hands”, and it made me wonder whether they had internalized the oppression Christianity had imposed on them as indigenous people. It seemed that their hearts were in the right place, and perhaps they wanted to help people more than to convert them.

April 16. I decided to take it easy today. I woke up around 915, probably having been woken by Richard on his way to church. I packed my things for Bocas del Toro, as I was leaving the next morning at 7:45am.  I had a couple of things I wanted to get before I left: roasted peanuts from the organic store, fresh bread from sugar and spice, and a latte at Unidos. I also needed cash for Bocas, as I wasn’t sure whether many places would accept credit cards. I was told as much. I stood in line what seemed like an interminable period before heading to Unidos. I had frequented their café in El Valle de Anton, as well as Panama City, and their lattes were good enough for my taste. 

I sat down on the comfy couch outside, and propped myself up with an extra pillow. I was reading the New Yorker about a cartoonist who recently passed, as well as the current insanity involving Trump. It was nice to have a subscription to the magazine. Thank you mom. It felt like a luxury to read the news. I do it very rarely. I didn’t feel like updating my blog. That felt like work. 

I overheard the people behind me talking about Ho Chi Minh City, Vilnius, and other foreign destinations, which was pretty rare to hear from locals in Boquete.  I asked the young man whether he was a big traveler, and he rattled off an impressive list of places that he had taken two week vacation’s to. It turned out he’s a doctor of internal medicine in David, and his wife is a pediatrician. He invited me to join them. His friend, whom he had bought a cake for, he’s an architect in town. I asked him about local salaries, not realizing that he was a white collar professional.

I asked whether it was possible for locals to still  buy a house. He said it was, and that his friend, an architect, made plenty of money and recently bought a nice place in Jaramillo. I tried a different tact, and asked whether local service workers could afford homes. He said no. I realize that he was in a different league. He is a medical doctor and told me his father sold the family land, 100 hectors in Jaramillo arriba, for $85,000. He was a bit doleful like other locals I have spoken with whose parents sold ancestral land for a pittance. 

He told me about their plan to build a house near the family land in Jaramillo Arriba that his father had sold. He also told me about some of the  vacations he has taken, as well as his triathlon experiences when he lived in Mexico. He regaled me with stories about he and his German friend who did all kinds of extreme sports together, including long-distance runs of volcanoes in Mexico and cliff jumping on the Pacific coast. I mentioned that I had done a triathlon in Santa Cruz. He told me that during the pandemic he lost his conditioning due to the very severe lockdown in Panamá. 

I decided to head back to the condo to drop off the bread and peanut butter and make some food. I had leftover bread from the Tuesday market, and decided to make French toast. I remember Shawn saying that sourdough is the perfect bread for that. I offered Richard some. 

When I got to Alteri specialty coffee, I decided to order a frappe. I regretted it. It tasted like a Vanilla protein drink. It was already 545. The parade of floats and costumed indigenous dancers was supposed to start at four. The parade the day before had been 3 1/2 hours late but I had a feeling todays would start earlier. I left rather hastily, and for a walk in quickly towards town. 

I met a sporty looking local who asked whether he could join me on my walk into town. About five minutes in, I realized I had left my hat at the cafe, and raced back in Hopes that it was still there. Luckily it was. I headed back to the road, and contemplated hitchhiking. Suddenly a car stopped, and a woman rolled down the window and said, do you remember me. I drew a blank. Then she said we met at the ice cream shop. And I realized that she was Brenda, the civil engineer that I met with her two kids who lives in Santiago and works in Boquete. 

Her backseat was filled with pinecones. She told me she was collecting them for Christmas time, when she made them into ornaments on the tree. I thought that was a great idea and told her about my father making homemade ornaments and the tradition in Poland. She showed me the street where many more pine cones littered the road. She told me that she was from Santiago. I mentioned that I wanted to go to Santa Fe. They said Aguas. She said she grew up there, and that her father has a hostel there, and does takes people out on various activities. She suggested that we go there together. I said that would be great, and then I would get in touch with her. She drop me off in the downtown, just as many of the floats were starting to go by. I ran to the end of the parade, where I saw that some of the indigenous dancers had already finished. Luckily, the majority of the floats hadn’t emerged, and I got a chance to experience the hometown parade, which lasted 30 more minutes. 

Then I crossed the bridge by the orchid fair and walked almost to the Panamonte bridge wheee my new friend set up a table every day from 4 to 8 PM filled with goodies like homemade queso Blanco, as well as coconut candy and other goodies. We had a good chat the other day, and I came back to buy some coconut candy and talk more about life here. Turns out his wife is a gynecologist in David, and many of his neighbors are European.  It was hard to understand him, as he garbled his words. Nevertheless, we talked for about 15 or 20 minutes. He mentioned lore about the position of the moon relative to the sea, and said that old timers made predictions based on this position. It reminded me of farmers almanac‘s. 

On my way back home, I stopped in at the ice cream store to say goodbye to my young friend who works there. Last time I was in, he showed me photos of he and his friends swimming in the waterfall on the three waterfalls trail. I’ve grown quite fond of him over the last couple of weeks. He was very sweet to me and had a sense of innocence about him. He recommended that I check out Lago Estrella, a lovely reservoir surrounded by pine trees 4.5 miles from town. Unfortunately, he was busy and didn’t hear me say goodbye. I got back to the condo and had some chili, and bid Richard a good night. It was late, and I knew I had to wake up early. I was worried I wouldn’t sleep well.