This past weekend I rode theAustin steam train. We rode the Hill Country Flier, which begins in Cedar Park and travels to Burnet. Here’s a picture of the train as we’re waiting to board!
As we were seated, one of the volunteers offered everyone snacks & drinks. The train is run by volunteers – they were all so kind and hospitable, I must add.
Somewhere between Cedar Park & Burnet:
We passed a handful of old Texas towns, such as this one. Only 30ish minutes north, but so very different from Austin.
And P.S. check out the sky. Fall is such a beautiful time of year in Texas. Yes, the summers are insanely hot here; however, when fall arrives and we have 70 degrees temps with sunny blue skies in November…
Al fin, we arrived in Burnet! We had a few hours here to eat, explore, etc.
We had lunch atTea-licious. I ate a burger. Surprise, surprise. (:
After lunch, we walked around the downtown Burnet square. Again, enjoying the absolutely beautiful Texas fall weather. Each little store had so much character, such as exhibit A:
And, exhibit B:
And exhibit C:
About 30 minutes before we headed back to Cedar Park, they had a little performance/staged gun fight with theBurnet Gunfighters. It was a cute show that had me laughing fairly consistently throughout. (:
After the show, it was time to head home!
On the way home, we were entertained by one of the kindest, friendliest, good-spirited train volunteers. He began with making all of the kids (and many of the adults) various balloon animals, hats, flowers, and swords. He finished with performing a birthday rap for one of the passengers in our car. So cute. Check it out:
I fly in planes. Alot. And although I frequently feel like I am in the air more than on the ground, I still can’t help but love the takeoffs and landings. Why? I love examining city layouts from above. Some cities, such as Phoenix, are one epic grid, while other places, like Austin, have no rhyme or reason to, well, anything.
On a related topic, there’s another something that never ceases to amaze me: the amount of uninhabited land. How/why is it that in some parts of the country we are literally living on top of one another, when just a few hundred miles away is completely baren?
Here’s a picture from our descent into Chicago. From this picture, you wouldn’t know that a massive city is just a few minutes away:
We flew into Kansas City, MO and ate dinner before making the drive. Chelsea introduced me to one of the most incredible meals I’ve experienced on the road. Who knew brussel sprouts were so mind-blowing?
Downtown Kansas City has character. And cute shops with so much to look at/leaf through/explore.
Letterpress.
Lots of driving. Lots & lots of driving. While I generally hate driving, it’s actually not 1/2 bad when driving through unfamiliar territory. So much to take in.
This morning I awoke to a delicious smell wafting in from the kitchen. I enjoyed listening to the clinking and clanking of pans as we arose & got ready for the day. Piña, cantaloupe, eggs, and toast were on the menu for breakfast. So much food was put in front of me. The fruit was so incredibly flavorful and the rest of the breakfast was equally delicious. The Contadora Island Inn staff seemed shocked that neither one of us drink or like coffee. We were told that most of the Americans who have previously stayed guzzle literally cups and cups of coffee each morning…
After breakfast, we took a walk – spotted a parrot as well as a huge lizard-looking creature…kinda like this one. The walk around the island this morning was so serene – lush green vegetation, various creatures, aw-worthy architecture and manicured landscapes:
During our walk, we stumbled upon a new beach – Playa Ejecutiva.
Observing, people watching, analyzing, taking it all in… these are some of my most memorable experiences while visiting new places. There’s really not much better then finding yourself conversing with a local who is full of passion, enthusiasm, and LOVES to tell stories. In the event it isn’t totally obvious…I ended up chatting with a guy like this today.
We began chatting about Panama. Well, he began chatting, I began listening. From his perspective, there is quite a bit of corruption here. Allegedly, everyone is always striking about something. Many people don’t want to work. He said it takes forever to get an appointment with a doctor. One specific example:
Guy: “I had a 4:30PM appointment with a cardiologist. I arrived on-time and the tech said: “Oh sorry, I just cleaned the machine.”
Guy: “But I have an appointment at 4:30PM – it’s 4:30PM now.”
Tech: “Sorry, come back tomorrow.”
Guy: “I live 4 hours from here, I need these tests done now.”
Tech: “Sorry.”
So, the guy went to the front reception area and told the secretary he wanted his medical papers to take elsewhere. She said: ” Sorry, I’m on strike. I can’t help you right now.”
He said he was so mad, he almost threw his chair out the window. Yikes. He also said that college students here are always striking about something.
This is only 1 story from 1 man, so of course it’s not enough to base any legitimates thoughts/opinions about Panama. Regardless, it was an interesting story – one of many this man told over the course of our stay.
After our (his) chat, we headed down to Playa Larga and played around on the almost desolate beach. The fact that there are not more people here still bewilders me. We built an epic sand castle kingdom. I don’t think I’ve built a sand castle in at least 10 years. It was delightful:
After lunch, we rented a golf cart to cruise around the island. This lasted about 20 minutes until BANG. My first reaction? “Oh god, we’ve been shot…!!!”. So yeah, I guess you could say I was cool, calm and collected. We looked around, saw nothing, and shortly thereafter realized that we merely had a flat. Drove slowly back to CII. As the staff wasn’t there to exchange golf carts, we decided to go back out on foot!
We walked down to Villa Romantica and went on the beach where we re-encountered the island dog. This dog is ridiculous. And highly strategic. Here’s his ploy: act cute, pretend to be super relaxed, wait until people have left clothing/flip flops on their beach chair, watch people get in ocean, immediately grab clothing/flip flop/etc. and peace out. Over the last few days, we’ve watched this dog play so many games of tug of war! He refuses to play tug of war with anything but a person’s belongings. Tonight, we witnessed the dog steal another girl’s shirt. The dog came out of nowhere! She had a good attitude about it and I was praising the lord that wasn’t me in her shoes!
For dinner tonight at Villa Romantica I had spaghetti. Dericious. A girl also staying at our b&b ate with us. She’s a nurse from Canada – we ended up chatting about the Canadian vs US health care system. Debated the pros and cons to socialized vs. privatized health care. My takeaways: 1. No system is perfect, 2. If something sounds too good to be true, it probably is, 3. Idealized systems and reality of quality of care is important to understand, 4. I’m thankful to not have socialized health care.
One final note – there was an epic thunder/lightning/intense rain storm our first night here. The elements of the storm knocked out power, phone, and internet. The power returned pretty quickly, but the phones & internet on the island are still down. I have to say, I’m not too disappointed. Being disconnected during vacay was one of my goals…so thank you, mother nature, for helping me accomplish this.
At first glance, I thought this frog was a rock, so I figured I’d kick the “rock” out of the way of traffic/bikers… About 2 inches before my shoe made contact with the “rock”, I heard a loud “RIBBIT!!”. As if to say: “WTF are you doing?! I’m a frog! Don’t hurt me!!!” The frog jumped about 2 feet in the air, which caused me to jump about 27 feet in the air, screaming: “jesus christ! oh dear god. that is NOT a rock!!”.
Our last day at MD! For breakfast, we ate a rendition of pancakes (more flat, less sweet that “American” pancakes) with butter & jam, bananas, cookies, and juice. After breakfast we packed up our bags, said our goodbyes and took a cab over to Albrook Airport. The airport staff were all really nice. I’ve found that here, as long as you try your best and smile, people will be forgiving/kind. Although I’m “fluent” in Spanish, I’m still not a native speaker, so the patience and smiles have been appreciated. (:
One thing I was not expecting upon checking in – having the airline agent tell me to get up on the scale! We learned that both person + bag are weighed! Makes sense to me. More weight = more fuel = more cost. For a quick moment, my mind ventured into thoughts of what would go down if this was ever proposed in the states. I image there would be a fairly epic upheaval, with the topic of “discrimination” flying all over the place. Unfortunately, but alas, being “PC” frequently triumphs logic.
ANYWAY, I digress. Moving on:
Contadora Island is part of the Pearl Islands on the Pacific side of Panama. (about a 15 minute plane ride.) There’s also a ferry, which takes quite a bit longer. We opted for the flight, as it wasn’t much more expensive, but was much quicker. Well, on paper anyway. (;
Here’s a visual – A. is Panama City, B. is Contadora Island:
Mi boleto!
After an hour or so, it was time to board the plane. There really was no gate or order of boarding (that I could make sense of, I must add). Periodically, we heard announcements on the loudspeaker, but there was so much echo in the room, it just sounded like a giant cluster of sound. I was nervous we might miss our flight, but alas, we did not. w00t!
Walking out to the plane!
There were no seat assignments, so we opted to sit in the first row. There was a little curtain to close off the cockpit, but it was never closed, SO we were about 2 feet from the pilot/co-pilot and watch the entire flight in action. It was so neat!
Up, up & away!
Ships waiting to enter the Panama Canal:
Touchdown! Here we are landing on Contadora Island! Contadora Island has a 1 lane landing strip which is the length of the island.
We disembarked the plane on the runway and realized we had no idea what to do. …which is odd, as I’m a micro-managing detail-oriented feign. Eek.
Plan B. There was a hotel about 10 yards from the landing strip, so we walked over and asked for directions to our b&b, Contadora Island Inn. They said: It’s too far to walk, but we’ll give Tony (CII’s property manager) a call! Take a seat and wait one moment…
A few minutes later, two guys in golf carts arrived. One was wearing a UT shirt. What?? UT on Contadora Island??? Texas is everywhere! They said hello, teathered our backpacks to the back of the golf carts, got into 1 golf cart and told us to get in the other. Before getting to Contadora Island Inn, we would first be getting a tour of the island!
Here’s Tony leading the way:
Apparently Donald Trump purchased this property with the intention of creating some sort of super swanky over-the-top Donald Trump beach resort, but that was quickly ended. Now, it just sits:
We continued on and saw some incredible mansions as well as some super rickety structures. The spectrum is crazy. Many rich Panamanians have vacation homes here on CI. These are the incredible mansions that we have been seeing. Many (though not all) locals either live in the mansions while the Panamanians are away (house-sitting, maintenance, etc.), or in extremely modest housing.
We made it around the entire island is about 20 minutes. Most people on the islands drive golf carts or some type of scooter and there are no traffic lights. Aside from the golf cart airport pickup/tour, we’ve walked everywhere on the island and it’s been great!
On CI, there are a handful of small hotels, b&bs & restaurants. We went to Villa Romantica for lunch today and had a ham & pina panini:
After lunch at Villa Romantica, we walked down the stairs and tested the waters on Playa Cacique:
We headed to Playa Larga, a beautiful beach surrounded by a few massive run-down buildings that at first I thought had been victim to arson. Not the case. Apparently, it was once some super swanky hotel on the beach – attracting all sorts of celebrities, with all sorts of night shows, activities, etc. The owner passed away, family gained posession of the hotel, family members became greedy and the hotel fell victim to a family dispute. At this point, everything went to shit and things still are not resolved. Apparently, Panamanian gov. has threatened to take over the property if a conclusion is not drawn soon. It really is heartbreaking to see the current state of the grounds, as it’s obvious how beautiful the hotel once was, just a few years ago! For the sake of the island and the people who live there, I hope the dispute is settled soon.
Here’s Playa Larga. We walked down to the beach and played in the water. It still blows my mind how desolate the beach was!
Al fin, we arrived back to Contadora Island Inn. It looks like a house that has been separated into individual rooms with a shared kitchen and living area. All the rooms are themed on birds. We are in the bobo room. (:
Here are a few pictures of CII from the outside:
The island is so small, it takes maybe 30 minutes on foot to walk from one side to the other. We walked to Gerald’s for dinner tonight. Ate a pizza. The restaurant is outdoors, so I saw all sorts of critters! Frogs, lizards, other unidentified reptilians… On that note, tonight I learned that “sapo” is another word for “rana”.
I’ve learned that everyone knows everyone on Contadora. I’ve also learned that absolutely everyone and their dog, brother, sister, & friend know Tony!
One final picture for the night. Our view while walking back from dinner at Gerald’s.
1 chopped banana, 1/2 an apple, 1 scrambled egg, 1/2 a piece of toast, 1 pastry & juice was how today began. (Demasiado comida!!) Our b&b has a cute little patio right outside of our room where breakfast is served each morning. Alejandro greeted us with a smile (como siempre), chatting with us about our day’s plan. He and his wife really are outstanding hosts who go above & beyond.
After breakfast, we caught a cab to the Panama Canal. Here’s a view, en route:
A ship had just finished passing through the canal when we arrived, so we went through the museum first. One thing I noticed in the museum:
The dude on the left has carved eyeballs and the other does not.
I also thoroughly enjoyed this sign, whatever it might mean:
1889: French abandones unsuccessful attempt to build canal through Panama.
1902: US passes bill allowing gov. to build canal through Panama (under Colombia control at this time)
Jan. 1903: Colombia fails to ratify treaty which would have provided US land/rights to build canal.
Nov. 1903: Panamanian Revolution. Panama claims independence from Colombia with US help.
1904: Canal Treaty is signed – Panama gives US rights to build Panama Canal for $10 million.
1904: US purchases French canal construction company for $40 million.
1914: Canal opens!
1977: President Carter signs treaty re: handing over control of Canal to Panama.
1999: Panama takes full control of canal.
After the museum & movie, we waited about 3 more hours for another ship to come. !!! I spent a majority of this time playing one of my favorite games: people watching. In this game, I attempted to guess: where the people were from, occupation, and if there was a couple – if they were dating/married and/or duration of relationship. If they were in close enough proximity, I would try to guess the language spoken. Creepy? Only slightly.
Waiting! The smoke you see behind me actually isn’t smoke. It’s evidence of construction! They are currently working on an expansion project that will double the capacity of the canal.
Al fin, a ship arrived! Here’s the ship we saw pass through the canal!
Look at it’s size compared to the people on the sidelines:
And lowering to pass through the Miraflores locks:
After the canal, we took a cab over to a contemporary art museum. After browsing the 1st floor, we saw a sign for a cafe, so we followed the sign down a short hallway and into a room… to find a vending machine. I.E. the “cafe”. ha!
As we began heading up to the 2nd floor, one of the employees came out and said, “Espérame!” and hand signaled for us to stop. So we hung out awkwardly in the stairwell for a hot minute. He then came back and said it was ok to go upstairs. After ascending the stairs, we realized why – they were filming! What they were filming? I have no clue. But they were filming and had to stop so we could proceed upstairs to look around. It was a little awkward, but what can you do!
After completing our museum tour, we were hungry!! We asked for a recommendation and the employee said “Albrook Mall”. This is perhaps the 5th person who has said to visit Albrook Mall. My first thought was: HELL NO. I don’t like malls/shopping back home, so why go to a mall all the way in Panama?
…10 minutes later and we were at Albrook Mall.
It’s incredible how much of an American influence there is here in Panama. In the food court, for example, I’d say about 70% of the restaurants are American chains:
So, at Albrook Mall, I commmitted 2 cardinal sins:
1. A rule I have when traveling abroad: don’t eat food from a place you can visit in the states.
2. I ate fast food. I don’t even do this back home, so why did I do this in Panama?
To my credit: I was feeling sick, I’m notorious for getting sick from a random variety of food, and although consuming McDonalds probably took about 3 years off my life, I knew short-term I would be fine. So, alas, I ate a happy meal. Ironically, I’m still not happy about it.
One interesting thing I noticed: many people at the mall were wheeling around suitcases! I presume this is because most stores don’t allow patrons to bring in other bags/large purses. This of course makes sense to me, although when we first walked in the mall, my 1st thought was “Hmm, there must be a store with a great luggage sale!”
After dinner we took a quick spin through the mall, then caught a cab back to MD. This cab driver was p-i-m-p, PIMP! So was his cab. Everything was covered in shimmery “blingy” contact paper.
Door handle, exhibit A:
The rearview mirror had no sort of plastic case – just a piece of mirror with four very sharp edges. The muffler sounded like it was 2 seconds from rattling off. Actually, now that I think about it, I don’t think it even had a muffler. There were colorful clurb flashing lights within. He drove like a maniac and I’m fairly confident he sped up for every speed bump.
As we got going, he asked us what kind of music we liked. Why? Oh, because he had somehow mounted a flat screen monitor to the inside of his dashboard that played music videos. He flipped on some reggeton and turned the volume UP. ¡Sube! ¡Sube! ¡Sube! A video came up that was apparently filmed in Colon. He told us that people in Colon have darker skin than those in Panama City. Then he said: Barak Obama is black. Or more like: “Obama negro.” To which I said: “Pues, un mitad.” It’s interesting to hear the thoughts/comments/impressions, from those outside of the states, of the US/Americans. And vice versa.
Here we are bumpin’ to the video. Please also take note of the insanely sharp-edged rear-view mirror:
We stopped for a red light and our driver proceeded to purchase an entire pizza from some dudes on the side of the street. He turned around and said, “lo siento, pero tengo mucho hambre!” “Esta bien, no te preocupes” is what I said in reply. In my head I was thinking: “You’re crazy/my favorite cab driver so far.”
Pizza time!
That night we ate dinner at a restaurant called Tinajas. The special part about this restaurant is that it features a folkloric dance dinner show. We hadn’t made reservations, so unfortunately the room with the show was completely full. We were a little disappointed, but oh well, not a big deal! Just as we were getting ready to ask for the check, the waitress let us know that they had a no show and we could take their table. CLARO QUE SI!! (: We were seated right as the show began. Not only did we get to see the show, but our table was front and center.
One of the drummers was absolutely incredible:
Here’s a video of one of the dances:
Awesome show. We’ve quickly learned that no trip back to MD is complete without a taxi joy ride. Let’s just say that tonight’s ride home did not disappoint. (:
Tomorrow we’re flying to Contadora Island. This afternoon I received an email from Air Panama saying our flight will be delayed 2 hours. No bueno, but we’re at their mercy, so our plan is to go with the flow! Beggars can’t be choosers, right? (: I just hope they don’t delay our flight on the way home, as we also have an international flight to catch that day. Vamos a ver…
2:30 is when I woke up this morning. And although many of you are probably thinking: “You are always up at that time. #TellMeSomethingIDontKnow”. WELL, today there actually was a reason for being awake at this ungodly hour.
Hoy vamos a Panamá!!
We left the apartment by 3:30 am and made it to Houston by 6:30 am (someday there will be more direct flights from Austin and/or flights from Austin which don’t cost an arm & a leg).
We parked at the Houston airport and took a shuttle to the terminal. The driver was Hispanic and started speaking Spanish to another Spanish speaking dude. Based on what he was saying, I have to assume he had no idea that I speak Spanish. Foreshadowing for the upcoming week? Creo que si.
OMG we’re going to Panama; it’s so exciting! Let’s take a picture to prove it!
Like always, there was trouble fitting everyone’s suitcases into the overhead compartments. In order to avoid checked bag fees, many of my fellow plane riders opted to not check any bags & just bring everything on board. Apparently luggage stowed below the airplane costs the airline $50, but luggage in the overhead compartment costs nothing! (I’d like to see the cost analysis for this decision). Frankly, I think Southwest is the smartest of all the airlines. Even if airlines need to compensate for extra cost caused by luggage weight, I think it’d be much smarter to just build the fee into the ticket price and have “free checked bags”. It isn’t rocket science, but it is psychology. BOOM.
At one point, one stewardess stepped in and began helping to stow the luggage. Her strategy was to go through all the compartments, find the smaller bags, and tell the bag owners to place it below their seat. She tried this strategy on one man and he said, “No, I won’t. That is my one bag.” The stewardess glared at the man & mumbled angrily under her breath. I thought a few things. #1. That man is ballsy. #2. “Hey, the dude is right. He packed light and/or checked his bag. Just because someone else brought 2 giant bags/neck pillow/diaper bag/purse/jacket/backpack/baby on the plane doesn’t mean this man should be crammed into his seat.”
On this topic, I would also like to note that I fit everything I needed for the week into 1 regular sized backpack & one small cross-body purse. I hope you are impressed because I sure as hell was.
Anyway, we arrived in Panamá! Here was our first view of the country!
The flight was fairly painless, as was customs. We had arranged transportation ahead of time, so when we walked out of the customs area, there was a guy there holding a sign with our names. Perfecto!
My first Panama thoughts? 1. HEELEELLLLLLOOOO humidity! 2. I wasn’t expecting to see such an array of skin tones. 3. There are a shit ton of power lines. Proof:
The taxi driver drove to us our bed & breakfast, Mediterranean Dreams (MD). As we were driving, the taxi driver’s phone rang. I heard him say “No no, they aren’t old. They’re young!” Ummm. No entiendo. Oh well…no me preocupo.
We arrived at MD and Alejandro was exactly how he was described in Trip Advisor…except even nicer and more hospitable, if that is possible. He’s also alot younger than I was expecting. (I see an age trend…) Alejandro showed us to our room. Our room is the “uva” room. Meaning, it is grape/purple everything! Perfecto.
After a quick nap, Alejandro called us a cab & we were off to explore Casco Viejo, the historic district of Panama City. Apparently it is fine and safe during the day, but not a place to explore en la noche.
Aqui estan algunas fotos de Casco Viejo:
We ate our 1st Panamanian meal in Casco Viejo. It was a quesidilla & it was delicious.
After dinner we caught a taxi to Amador Causeway – a beautiful area across the water from the city skyline. The view was absolutely breathtaking:
We walked down the length of the causeway, checking out the boats, stores, people, etc. Of course one of the first things my eye caught was an ice cream store.
In case you were wondering if I was able to resist temptation:
Ice cream cones in hand, we walked down the causeway, simultaneously admiring the beautiful views & sweating our brains out. A few more photos from the causeway:
Al fin, we took a cab back. Here’s one thing I’ve noticed about Panama City: the quality of cab you will get is a complete crap shoot. Some will be very nice, some will be average, and some will be like the one we took home from the causeway. Dear god. Our cab driver was about 175 years old. He had a ridiculous cough/wheeze that occurred every 10 seconds or so. He also never covered his mouth. He drove like a maniac. For awhile, I was concerned that one of the wheels might pop off. Speaking of popping, it was obvious that the car had been in at least one accident, as there was clear evidence that the airbag has been deployed.
What I’m trying to say is that pretty much, it was an awesome experience. And now that we have survived, we have a funny story to look back on. When in Panama!
Upon arriving back to MD, we were thirsty! There’s a grocery store about 1/3 mile away, so we decided to walk there. I don’t know why, but I just love grocery stores, especially when visiting other countries. I love seeing the different type of items found within the store. We went to the drink aisle. One side of the aisle had all of the juices/sodas/waters/etc. The other side had perhaps the largest selection of alcoholic beverages I’ve ever seen (aside from Specs). Mass quantities of beer, wine, hard a, ciders, etc. It was incredible. So, as David picked out drinks from the non-alcoholic side of the aisle, I stared longingly at the alcoholic drink side of the aisle, trying to convince myself that “maybe THIS time, I can try having 2 sips of alcohol without getting insanely sick within 5 minutes and feeling like I would rather be dead for another 45.”
I went with my better judgement and begrudgingly turned to the baby drink, I mean non-alcoholic drink section. I got Pepsi & water. #firstworldproblems, I know.
Here’s something you might not know. The currency used in Panama is the American dollar! Panama and the United States actually have quite an interesting history and relationship. You should look it up and get your learn on. It’s good stuff.
We were pretty exhausted from the day’s festivities, so after returning from the store, we opted to lay low tonight. We took our drinks & snacks & hiked our way up to the hammock at the top of the hill in the backyard. It was a nice relaxing evening.
Can’t believe day 1 is already over! Panama Canal tomorrow…
I remember arriving in LAX from Mexico City and hearing a group of girls speaking English. I remember thinking: “English? Hmm. That’s weird.”. I suppose that after hearing only Spanish for the past 16 weeks, being surrounded once again by English would be something to reacclimate to. The irony is that 4 months prior, we had landed in LAX from Portland. I remember boarding the plane for Mexico City and everyone around me was speaking Spanish. My initial reaction? “Spanish? Hmm. That’s weird.” Well, in actuality, my thought was more along the lines of: “Holy shit. What did I get myself into??”
After every trip, I come back with a new perspective and set of experiences. Don’t we all? This happened with study abroad. I thought I had it all figured out. Turns out I most certainly did not. I thought: “Yeah yeah yeah, I’ll go down to Mexico, take a few classes, make a few friends, come home, and resume life, business as usual.”
HA! Nope. That was not the case. At. All.
Little did I know how watered down my expectations were. I had no freaking clue how study abroad would be affecting me. Cliche? Sure. But it’s true! The love I would develop for the Mexican people/culture, the lifelong friendships I’d make, the ridiculous experiences I would have, the incredible host family I would adore. Yep, I certainly didn’t plan for any of this.
Which nicely brings me to my current thoughts. Panama. What will that be like? I’m so curious what this Panama experience will bring. What will the people be like? What is the weather like? What idiosyncracies will I notice? How will they treat me? What do they eat? What is transportation like? How will this experience affect me? How will I be different once I return? Or will I?
21 days and counting until we head down to Panama. Finally, a vacation has been decided! Never thought I’d see the day. We spent countless hours researching (and countless years [literally] saving!). There was a lot to juggle: schedules, budgets, miles, locations. Finally, the stars have aligned for Panama, so there we go.
!!!!!!!!!!!
Here’s a small taste of what planning for this trip was like. To preface: although I work in a field that preaches ‘global citizenship’ + ‘cultural sensitivity’, I admit, I’ve found myself falling into the ‘culturally insensitive’ trap from time to time. Actually, I wouldn’t say ‘culturally insensitive’ as much as I’d say ‘culturally frustrated’.
Let me set the scene. It involves booking airline tickets with a Panamanian airline. Here’s what went down:
During our trip, we’ll be flying from Panama City to Contadora Island. The flight is operated by a Panamanian airline. With airlines in the states, the process is fairly easy (and by easy, I mean it’s what I’m accustomed to). You get online, find a flight, book a ticket, get an email confirmation. Boom. Done.
This is not the case with the Panamanian airline.
On the PA site, you begin by selecting dates/times of flight. Info is displayed. Click ‘reserve’. Enter in your info. Click ‘submit’. And that’s it! No payment, no email confirmation, no payment, nada.
A few days passed and we heard nothing from PA, so I emailed to follow up. The following conversation took place:
Me: Hi, I’m emailing to follow up, confirm tickets & see how we pay. Air: Send us names of passengers, dates of flight & credit card info. Me: Ok. Sent dates. Requested price confirmation before sending payment info. Air: Replied with price -> 2x listed price on website! Me: Sent screen shot of prices. Asked why price is double. Air: “Oh, those prices don’t include taxes and fees”
*Apparently taxes/fees are same amount as airline ticket!* Me: Sent over payment, c/c number, name on card, exp. date. Air: Sent back etickets and receipt. My name was spelled incorrectly on ticket and the card was charged to the wrong name. Me: Asked for above mistakes to be fixed and reissue ticket. Air: Sure. But it’ll cost you $10 per change! Me: $*@$@#$!!! I’m not asking for a change, I’m request that mistakes made on your end be corrected. Air: Oh ok, we won’t charge you.
Boom.
The entire conversation was done in Spanish. Although I’m not a native speaker, I am fluent. However, I’m fluent in book/Mexican spanish, not Panamanian spanish. So, this was a challenge for me! At one point, I had one of my native speaking Spanish friends take a look at one of the emails the woman from the airline had sent, as I had read the email about 15 times and could not for the life of me understand what it said. Turns out, the email was 5 sentences but 0 punctuation was used. Once the punctuation was added, it made a heck of a lot more sense.
Bringing this all full circle…
My initial non-reflective non-global citizen perspective was that of frustration and ‘WTF. How can they run a business like this?!!?! Unbelievable!!!’
Then, reflection mode kicked in. I started thinking about what I teach our student bloggers. One thing I try to instill in our bloggers is the ability to not only develop powerful storytelling skills, but to have the mindset to also be able to analyze and reflect upon their experiences.
What happened to me and my reaction?? Let’s take a moment to reflect…
After a bit of pondering, I realized I’m usually drawn back to the same conclusion: when in/dealing with a new culture, it’s necessary to not hold this new culture to the standards you know from your own. The whole beauty of going to a new place is interacting with new people, seeing a different way of life & appreciated the differences. Having that totally new, slightly confusing and frequently frustrating…yet totally wonderful, enriching, eye-opening, life-changing experience.
Does that mean you have to like it? Nope. Does that mean you have to agree with it? Absolutely not. What it means is that you have to understand it…even if that means agreeing to disagree.
So, how about that for an AHA moment? There’s a reason we’re going to Panama and not somewhere far more familiar. I love the challenge, I love the learning, and I love the opportunity to get a taste of what life is like in another culture/society/country unlike my own.
One year ago, my colleague Karen and I traveled down to Argentina to visit our program in Buenos Aires, Argentina. We decided to write a collaborative post for the API blog, recapping the excursion we took with our students to Iguazú Falls. Below, you will find scanned in images of our journal entries as well as a photo/video mashup of the weekend. It truly was an incredible trip. Karen’s post is first, followed by mine:
Yes, I grew up in Oregon and yes, I know I was only a few hours away from a handful of amazing ski locations but no, up until this past December I had never been to a mountain and certainly had never been skiing/snowboarding.
In case you were wondering, no, I have also never been camping. Actually, I take that back. My first camping experience was this past summer…in Israel…in a Bedouin tent. Go figure.
Yes, now that I live in Texas I have a much greater appreciation for Oregon and all of its beauty but no, even with this newfound appreciation, I really don’t think I’ll ever be much more of an “outdoorsy” person.
All this to say, I went to Mt. Hood for the first time this past December.
Well, David went to snowboard. I guess you could say I went along for moral support. I did contemplate skiing/snowboarding for about 10 seconds, weighing the pros and cons:
Pro: It could be fun, I can say I’ve tried it, it’s good exercise
Con: I hate being cold, I have no athletic ability, my hand-eye coordination is alarmingly low in the world of athletics (minus salsa dancing), I have the upper and lower body strength of a 9 year old, I’m not the best at making split second decisions in life or death situations (scary), and my luck isn’t all that great….
Wondering which option I chose?
Well…let’s just say, I took the photo you see above from within the lodge. I was mad at myself for about 3.5 seconds for not trying, but then I reminded myself: A. Different strokes for different folks, B. You have an awesome book in your bag that you’ve been wanting to read for about 6 months now and C. If you go out there, there’s a high probability the only way you will return is via stretcher.
While at Mt. Hood, I did alot of two things: reading & people watching. I read one of Chuck Klosterman’s book. Found the content on this page to be particularly smart:
Uhhh. I think someone is tired:
On the way back, we passed a snow bank where there were people sledding and snowshoeing, so we pulled over to check it out. I don’t like dogs (I’m wildly allergic), but I thoroughly enjoyed watching dogs go down snow embankments via snow tubes. It was a challenge to decipher if the dogs really really liked or really really hated the experience. I actually think they weren’t sure themselves.
The hotel where we stayed had quite the happy hour menu. We ate well and I’m sure my galbladder hated me the entire time:
So, here’s a fun story. The quickest way to get back to our room from the restaurant was through a side entrance that went directly outside. Usually we took this exit, but on the 2nd and final night, we decided to go out the main entrance to poke around the lobby. Prior to this route change, I already had put on my 25 sweatshirts, hat, hoods and coats. As it would have taken forever (10 seconds) to disrobe, I said “forget it” and walked out the entrance toward the hotel lobby, complete with all my sweatshirts, scarves, hat, and 2 hoods. Basically, all you could see was my nose & eyes…my arms could absolutely not even come close to touching the sides of my body.
As we exited the restaurant, we passed a group of 50 something year old ladies. One took one glance at me and said to her friend, “Wow! It must really be cold in that restaurant!”. I just kept walking and after about 4 seconds of holding it in, burst out laughing. I knew I looked ridiculous, especially as a 24 year old. With this said, I’ve learned that innocent tomfoolery here and there never hurt anyone, right?
I’ve had a few weird days at O’Hare that have ended with feelings of animosity on my end toward the airport. Perhaps I’m an outlier. Either that, or I just spent too much time at the airport.
As a general rule, if my layover is more than an hour, I try to find a place that is quite, i.e. not at my gate, so that I can get work done. This particular day, O’Hare was especially packed. I walked for about 33.5 miles until I found a small area that was well…not quiet by any means, but there was at least a place where I could sit down. Small victory. I sat down and unpacked my stuff.
As I’m opening my laptop, a man comes up to me and says: “Oh, sorry, you can’t sit there. We’re about to do construction.” My first reaction was: “Was I so oblivious that I just walk right into a construction zone?” …so I look around and no…no I was not. There was no sign of any sort of construction. I thought it was very bizarre….but whatever…no big deal. I can’t be upset about airport improvement projects. So, I pack up my stuff and walk another 3 – 4 miles until I found an area to sit. Settled in, took of my coat, got my stuff unpacked and BAM. Another dude comes up to me, saying the same thing. !!! What the hell? is what I’m thinking at this point. So, I said, welp, forget it, I will just go get something to eat.
I figured I might have better luck in another terminal. One of my favorite parts of O’Hare is the underground walkway. Shortly after taking this picture, I witnesses a guy standing backward on the moving sidewalk and texting. He reached the end of the moving sidewalk, didn’t realized he reached the end as he was buried in his phone, and 100% ate it. 100% face plant. As I drifted farther the other direction on my own respective moving sidewalk, I just stared – partly in shock, and as much as I hate to admit it, partly in amusement.
The funny part was this. The guy got up, looking around in shock, as if some invisible person around him had set up a trap to make him fall. All I really wanted to say was: “Well, sir, you fell because you were standing backward on a moving sidewalk texting, instead of looking where you were going. I think that’s how that happened.”
Alas, I kept this comment to myself and prayed that the snarky gods wouldn’t serve me a plate of karma the next time I decided to simultaneously text and walk/ride a moving sidewalk.
I wandered over to the food area and scanned the options for the least of all evils. I decided to go for a salad from Quiznos. Nice and “healthy”. I ate the salad, got on my flight to Michigan, arrived at my hotel…then proceeded to suffer the wrath of food poisoning for the next 36 hours. Hating life for every last second to those 36 hours, yet feeling extremely thankful that this was the first time being subjected to such a god-awful experience. I felt dead.
Three days later, I was back at O’Hare, flying home. I had about a 3 hour layover and was still feeling a bit “meh” yet hungry, so I decided to get a ginger ale and plain rice. I sat down at the table, pulled out my book, and spent about 5 minutes reading and eating. I then began hearing a clicking noise, which I at first ignored. 2 minutes later and the clicking continued, so I looked up to investigate. I saw a woman at the table next to mine CLIPPING HER NAILS. I immediately felt my stomach churn, lost the little appetite I had built up, focused intensely on taming my gag-reflex, and left the area immediately.
A week later, I found at O’Hare once again. Nervous for what might come during THIS trip. What seemed like a mirage at the time will now be know as exhibit A:
A breath of fresh air! (: Healthy food is always a dime a dozen in airports. When I saw this fresh fruit AND all-natural frozen yogurt in one? SOLD.
Airports. Where do I begin? I guess I can start by saying: I know them well. There are some I enjoy (Phoenix Sky Harbor), some I dislike (Kansas City), and others that just give me the creeps (Memphis).
So, what makes a “good” airport?
Electrical outlets. Akin to libraries, airports always seems to have a shortage of plugs. Perhaps this is because when libraries/airports were built, not everyone had a iPhone, iPad, iPod, MacBook, Kindle, Blackberry and/or blueberry to plug in. Regardless, electrical outlets (more specifically, electrical outlets that WORK) are a rare commodity in airports. I think O’Hare has given me the worst luck on this front.
Good signage. Some airports have excellent signage that make it super easy to find the car rental location, ticketing counter, gates, terminals, etc. Denver, Houston and Salt Lake, for example, have excellent signage. Kansas City, Lexington, Kentucky & Saginaw, on the other hand, do not.
Clean bathrooms. Once you have spend 496 hours in one week in various airports, things like this stick out. A la the glamor of airport travel, it’s fairly natural to feel 300% disgusting after a day of travel. It’s nice to have a clean bathroom that at least FEELS like it’s not covered in germs. Denver and PDX have nice bathrooms. (:
Car rental location. I cannot even begin to tell you how much I love love love loooooove airports that have the car rental area within the main airport building. Shoutout to Austin, Saginaw & Greensboro on this front. BWI, Denver, KCI…ugh! These airports do have shuttle systems to transport passengers to the car rental facilities, but when we’re talking efficiency…well, it isn’t. At ABIA, I know I can park my car/drop off rental car and be at the check in counter within 10 minutes. Denver, Kansas City, or Baltimore on the other hand? I’ve got to add another 30-45 minutes to airport arrival time.
Food. Well…beggers can’t be choosers. But, beggers also appreciate options that involve fresh, healthy, organic, non-processed/fried foods. I’ve had good luck with food in Denver & Phoenix. Worst airports for food? Pretty much all airports smaller than ABIA and/or located in the mid-west.
Internet. I don’t mind (AS MUCH) paying for internet if I have a longer layover. However, it’s hard to justify paying $10 for internet for an hour layover. Oh how I enjoy airports with free wifi, especially during short layovers. Best: Denver, Phoenix. Worst: Austin. On this note, I will also state that I have an epic love/hate relationship with Boingo. I must also give a special shoutout to KCI. Not only do they have free wifi, but a super awesome/responsive person(s) running their Twitter.
Ambient music. When you’re sitting in an airport for a 3.5 hour layover, it’s nice to have some good ambient noise when walking from point A to B. Especially when you’re in an airport like Houston or Newark, that could take about 36 hours to get from one side to the other. I give the Greensboro airport a gold star on this front – they had Jamie Cullum playing…and I was happy.
CARPET! And by carpet, I mean, no carpet. I was at…the Pittsburgh airport I believe? Don’t quote me. Anyway, I went to claim my suitcase and was pleasantly surprised to see the car rental kiosk was right next to the baggage claim – score! However, I also quickly realized that the entire ground was covered in carpet. #Firstworldproblems, I know, but I’ve come to quickly appreciate the airports with floor sans carpet – makes dragging a 35 pound suitcase so much easier. O’Hare gets points for good flooring. Pittsburgh and PDX on the other hand…not so much.
Oh the things you learn from spending hours at airports.
