“No one realizes how beautiful it is to travel until he comes home and rests his head on his old, familiar pillow.” – Lin Yutang

I’ve always thought that the best stories have unexpected endings.

And this story is no exception.

A mixture of homesickness and an itch to surprise a few people brought me back to the US about ten days earlier than planned, and I couldn’t be happier sitting at my kitchen table typing this last blog entry listening to my brother David’s ridiculous questions (aka: “Theresa, so what do you know about….you know…stuff?”) while he chows down on his American pizza next to me. 

I have to be honest…I don’t really know how to close the door on the three month experience I just had on my own.  The ending would have come abruptly even if I were still sitting in my little blue room in Los Santos until next Monday.  I’ve never really been that good at goodbyes so it might take me a few months to do it. 

So I thought about maybe reflecting on what I learned while I was there. I mean, I did live in a purely Spanish-speaking world on my own in small town about 2200 miles away from my house in bustling Overland Park, Kansas.  I’m bound to have learned something. But I think that might take even longer to figure out than it will take me to say goodbye. 

Don’t get me wrong - I’m so thankful for everything I’ve had, everything I’ve experienced, and everything I’ve learned (that I WILL eventually discover).  But even the most exotic beaches, satisfying Spanish conversations and important successes seem nothing right now compared to being close to the people I love. 

A famous Kansan once said: “There's no place like home.” I’ll never forget what I’ve lived these past 89 days, but I have no doubt where I belong. So for my final adiós, I’ll leave you with a few photos I snapped just before flying back onto American soil…

So long taxi drivers that always hung out in the middle of the street...thanks for always being friendly and excited to drive around a gringa

I never really knew her name, but this woman was always at the gym every morning to greet me with a friendly "Hola Teresita!"....interesting sidenote - she has no left hand (didn't figure that out until mid-July), cares for her sick and bedridden husband alone and still manages to be one of the happiest people I've met.

You have no idea how sorry I felt for this guy sometimes. Every morning there would be a loud "WILLIAM - VAMOS. ARRIBA. LET'S GO" from the trainers and poor, sweaty and tired William (his real name was Ulyses... so obviously William is the logical nickname) would be forced to get up and bench press another never-ending set.

My favorite Mini-Super. Like I (hopefully) mentioned before, these things were EVERYWHERE and run strictly by Chinese people.  I liked to give this one my business even though it was a little farther from casa because the people were nicer. Pays to smile and say thank you, doesn't it?

Pedro...my "fellow Kansan." He mentioned several times how he's planning on coming back to his favorite state, so maybe this wasn't an official goodbye after all.

I will never figure out why the signs said "Una Vía" but ALL of the Panamanian people still said "One Way" in English...

More of the morning gym crew + the trainer Jorge

The kitchen I woke up to every morning. I will miss its quaintness but not the nasty little bugs crawling all over. I'll get my protein somewhere else.

The park that sat right in front of USMA. I spent many an afternoon there waiting for classes to start and "echando cuento" with classmates.

I finally got a picture of the inside of the gym. It's not much to look at, but if you think that it's not possible to get an insane workout, think again.

Hiding behind those trees is the University. It had its own little charm, but I'm itching to get back to the beautiful St. Louis campus I know.

The face of Panamanian public transportation. Wasn't hard to say goodbye to those hot, crowded, sweaty little buses.

The Mini-Super closest to our house...and that happens to be Vanessa's car rolling in front of me.

A flag representing a country rich in history and culture. Red, white and blue are three colors I've never appreciated more.

I once read an interesting quote in book written by an American man living in England: "In a funny way nothing makes you feel more like a native of your own country than to live where nearly everyone is not."

That's exactly how I've felt.

So coming home was no culture shock...nothing had changed, things weren't all of a sudden strange and new to me.  The only thing that is different is the way I see everything now. And it's much much more beautiful.

“A journey is like marriage. The certain way to be wrong is to think you control it.” – John Steinbeck

Today I was sitting peacefully in the house on my bed doing the usual homework and planning on leaving for USMA in about 30 minutes when Jose came running in the house shouting, “Theresa! We have to get out of the house…NOW!” Having no idea what he was talking about, I grabbed everything I thought I might need for class later on and followed him out the door just in time to see a guy wearing a gas mask and carrying what looked like a leaf blower leaking some kind of foggy chemical substance walking toward the front door.  Turns out he’s going around the neighborhood fumigating the houses for mosquitoes…something about a dengue epidemic going around. Great. Wanna know my latest bug bite count is as of this morning?

50.

But the good news is, Vanessa thinks that they aren’t mosquito bites (which means the dengue scare factor just dropped) but bites from something she called a “chitra.”  After doing some research and looking at some pretty nasty but familiar pictures, I am 99% confident she’s right. Chitras or sand flies are apparently less than one-eighth of an inch long…which explains why I’ve never seen the stupid things. Found this too: “Bites from chitras can leave anything from swollen bumps to angry rashes. The discomfort of each bite lasts far longer than that of a mosquito and the more one scratches, the more one itches. Scratching the bites can lead to sores that last weeks or years and may leave permanent scarring.” Should have bought more toothpaste.

The nasty little culprit: http://www.skyscanner.net/news/sandfly.jpg  Thanks to them it kind of looks like my legs have leprosy right now.

As promised, I have a few quick updates about the family vay-kay in Chiriquí, but first I think I should finally introduce you to the Panamanian “fam”:

Vanessa

The best host mom I could ask for…minus her really annoying Blackberry ringtone that sounds like a midget sneezing.

Jose

The fairly annoying at times but overall entertaining host brother that is obsessed with death metal music and speaks about 500 miles an hour.

Clímaco

I mentioned him before briefly, but he’s the soft-spoken, timid cook that lives a six minute walk away.  I’ve eaten his rice and beans every day for lunch and dinner and listened to his Nokia ring tone go off every five minutes (are you starting to see that phones = life here?) for almost three months

Annie (aka: masculine aunt or “hombrecito”)

I risked my life snapping this picture. She had no idea it was being taken and still looks like she wants to kill me.

As I said before, we stayed in the mayor’s house and I made some more friends:

Viki, the five-year-old daughter I bonded with while making clay snowmen and playing fashion games on her laptop

And this little guy:

Bron. He may look adorable, but I swear he smelled worse than the room I had to share with Jose during the trip.

Together we ventured up into the mountainous region of Chiriquí, passed the volcán (that’s volcano if you didn’t catch that) and reached the topish area called Cerro Punta.  Remember how I was complaining last post about still being hot? Well I spoke too soon. The temperatures up in Cerro Punta were probably in the low 60’s and 50’s…aka: perfect. Of course everyone in the car was dying of cold and kept asking me with amazed eyes “is this what the US is like?!”

We ate some of the best hamburgers I’ve ever had near the top, served piping hot by a bubbly Panamanian woman who cheerfully responded “a la orden!” to every “thank you” that was thrown out.

The beaches here have been beautiful, don’t get me wrong. But there’s something about the mountains that will always win me over. 

I ended up heading back to La Villa a day before everyone else to finish a psychology project (ask my brother Mark how much fun it was – he got to be my interviewee) and last minute “tarea” (aka: homework) in casa.  I’ve already said goodbye to Geology and Spanish classes (finals start next week) and am definitely mentally ready to touch back down once again in the good ol’ US of A. 

But one thing I will definitely miss here: the Panamanian taco stand my friend Jose (yes, there are about 10,000 guys named Jose in La Villa alone I think) introduced me too. Panamanians don’t tolerate spicy foods so don’t picture anything resembling Mexican, but they are sooooooooo good. I’m not ashamed to admit I went two days in a row last weekend.

Hasta ahora…

I miss the cool temperatures already

Short n' sweet...For now.

I’m on a “family vacation” with Vanessa, Jose, Clímaco (the cook if you forgot) and Annie (Vanessa’s cousin…I call her “masculine aunt” because she is literally one of the manliest women I have ever met. Even Vanessa described her as an “hombrecito” or “little man” on day to me…) in a province called Chiriquí right next to the border of Costa Rica. They told me before coming that I would love it here because it’s “fresco” (aka: cool) “just like the US!”

Not. Exactly.

I guess I’m not sweating as much. We also happen to be staying in the mayor’s house, a wealthier Panamanian casa complete with air conditioning throughout the house (but only at night) and cameras in every room. More to come…

Sorry for lack of pictures. And updates. I’ve got a few last minute projects, tests, and presentations to prepare for before I wrap things up here.

Miren esto: http://www.panamarealestatepros.com/images/map_province.jpg

Happy August!