“Tourists don’t know where they’ve been, travelers don’t know where they’re going.” – Paul Theroux

I’ve decided the weirdest thing about Chitré (the county I live in) so far is the rooster that has been crowing at random since 11:00 last night but doesn’t actually seem to exist because I haven’t seen him.  The fact that there are even roosters nearby kind of makes me smile.  This is definitely different.

I finally stole some time to myself for the afternoon after a busy morning of getting to know Chitré a little bit better with Vanessa and Jose.  I’m happy I even got into the country, though, because after passing under the big “Bienvenidos a Panamá” sign in the airport I had to get past the scowling customs workers who studied my passport for quite some time and asked me a few questions about “Mee-sur-ee” (Missouri if you didn’t catch that) and my reasons for being here.  They kindly didn’t slow their Spanish down one bit (better practice) and, after hearing me blubbering through my answers, they decided I wasn’t a threat.  I grabbed my two suitcases (my previous victory was short-lived…70 pounds in one suitcase just didn’t cut it for the airline employees in KC) and recognized Ana María immediately as I came out of the terminal.

*Side note – Ana María and I have been emailing back and forth since early November, and she’s been a huge help with turning in paperwork…I’m here basically because of her.

Ana María and I at the harbor

Meeting in person for the first time wasn’t strange at all, and when she introduced me to her boyfriend and his cousin I quickly learned the awkward way that in Panamá you’re supposed to give a kiss on the cheek when you greet someone…but only one.  I just saved all of you future travelers from some major potential embarrassment. You’re welcome.

The humidity was just as bad as I expected.  At one point I realized that as the two guys were graciously loading my suitcases into the tiny blue car they had driven and I was simply standing there talking to Vanessa even my legs were sweating. That’s when you know it’s bad. We drove through the streets of Panama City which can only be described as extremely confusing and chaotic (stop signs seem to be optional and apparently seat belts are too…Vanessa asked me what I was doing this morning when I sat in the back of her car and started to buckle up) and filled with a lot more poverty than I expected. We didn’t get to see much of the city or the canal, but we ate lunch at a harbor in the city, and I introduced everyone with me to the panini (why I decided to order a hot sandwich is beyond me…Ana María looked at me at one point and said, “Awww, you’re sweating!” as if she’d never seen it before. Must be the whole no sweat glands thing).  By the end of the afternoon, I was exhausted, hot, and understanding less and less with every conversation.

Some of the downpour of this morning

It rained for a lot of the four hour trip back to Chitré (another odd thing – Panamanians turn on their warning lights when it starts to downpour and continue driving like nothing is happening) and when we finally arrived at Vanessa’s house, we sat on the front porch for a while listening to the parties going on in the houses nearby until she got back.  I like her already.  She’s extremely laid back, very helpful (she told me to ask for anything I needed “con confianza”…with confidence… several times) and doesn’t speak any English.  Perfect. I met her two little babies, Luli and Hannah (the smallest dogs I’ve ever seen in my life…I’m going to spend the next three months trying not to step on them and kill them) and she led me to my room, where I currently sit typing this under a creaking fan and listening to Jose let out a scream every once in a while at the baseball game on TV. 

That’s when what I like to call the “freak out moment” of the study abroad trip happens.  Your host mom leads you to your room, closes the door to let you unpack privately, and the only thing you can do for a few minutes is stand there staring at this strange little abode in a country you barely know you where you will be living for the next 60+ days.  I guess that’s when the realization fully hits you and the only thing that keeps crossing your mind is the anxiety of “what I am doing here???” But you start to unpack, make the room yours, and the feeling slowly subsides.  And that’s exactly what happened last night.  After taking a shower in the small bathroom with one water temperature (I’ll give you a hint – it’s not hot) I felt a lot better and passed out to the sound of that stupid rooster crowing somewhere nearby. 

I met Jose this morning at breakfast.  He’s a bigger 13-year-old kid and one of the first things Vanessa told me about him (while he was in the room too) was that he had been suspended from school for the next week for fighting.  He seems completely harmless to me (maybe just a little angsty with his Nirvana and Ozzy Osbourne music) and I can already tell I’m going to have fun teasing him once we start getting more comfortable.  I’ll make the rest of this quick because I’m sure I’ve already lost half of the people who decided to read this entry anyway:

Vanessa and I went to Mass this morning at a local colonial church.  I was surprised at how many kids were there and felt all of their curious eyes on me when I went up for Communion: the only “gringa” in the church.  The three of us went to lunch after, and apparently I ate one of Panama’s most popular plates: sancocho. http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/0/05/Barranquilla_-_Sancocho_de_mondongo.jpg (basically chicken broth and chicken. Jose asked me if I had ever eaten “ñame” which was apparently also in the mixture.  I said no…mainly because I had no idea what it was.  And held my breath as I tried some.  Turns out they’re yams.  That could have been ended up so much worse!)

Vanessa and Jose both liked the assortment of KU and Kansas goodies I brought them (the wind chime was a big success Mom) and I’m getting better at understanding their rapid-fire Spanish already. (Although about 40-50% of the time I just nod and smile. Oops.)

Hannah: dog or over-sized rat? You decide.

My first classes don’t start until Tuesday so I still have tomorrow to wander around and get lost a few times before I actually have to be somewhere.  I’m sure I’ll have plenty more to write as I spend this next week adjusting to my new life.  But for now I’m going to go chill (sweat) on the porch with Luli and Hannah. Hasta pronto!











EDIT***

Alright, I know I just updated this thing a few hours ago but I already have a few notes scribbled down I want to mention:

1) To add to the first seatbelt comment: Vanessa, her cousin, two other women from the neighborhood and I just went to the grocery store located more in the main hub of the county of Chitré.  The two other women hop in the backseat with me and Vanessa nonchalantly explains to them in an amused tone: “Theresa tried to put her seatbelt on in the backseat this morning.  It’s necessary in the United States.” 

2) I have discovered there is no Panamanian “look.”  People here are all shades of dark, ranging from light (meaning tan) to black.  Some have more African features and others look more indigenous.  The one thing they all have in common: compared to them I am practically see-through. 

3) Everybody in this town knows everybody.  And it seems like they’re all related in some way or another. We can’t drive down the street without Vanessa honking at least three or four times when she drives past houses with a few Panamanians sitting on the porch or faces she recognizes walking in the street. 

4) Just in case you were wondering, they use the American dollar here.  But the coins are different. (at least the pennies and quarters…I think they’re worth the same but are called Balboa? I haven’t figured it out just yet)

5) The main sport here is baseball.  And apparently there’s a big game going on tonight between Los Santos and another province in Panama.  I’ve been told that if I don’t root for Los Santos there will be dire consequences.