Sunday, October 11, 2015

To Boquete and Beyond...

I've been here one week.


I've met 19 awesome people.



I've traveled 503.4 + 20 some "oops" kilometers.


To four very different parts of the county...





I've eaten enough rice and beans to kill seven rats.


I've climbed over an Indians nose.


I've rubbed magical mud all over myself.


And eaten some really weird fruits.


I've also gotten bitten by more bugs than exist in Wisconsin right now, gotten lost in locals' backyards, taken the wrong bus, been misunderstood in Spanish, went a day without food or water (unless 9 mini Oreos are considered food) while traveling 12 hours straight, sweated 7,000 gallons, painted door gates, got in a van with some strangers and trusted them to get me where I was going, been in absolute awe of the endless lightning and thunder...

And it's been a pretty laid back week. 


And all of it makes me wonder why on earth no one is traveling with me. This life is incredible.

And, you can't complain about money when you get to eat a meal like this for $1.50...


That was .75 for pasta, $2 for cucumbers, eggs, tomatoes, and papaya, and .25 for bread split between two people. And it was delicious. :)


The hostel Bodhi in El Valle was wonderful. Right on the Main Street of the little town, you could sit on their cafe like patio, drinking coffee and watching the world go by. The girls working there were learning English, so we spoke a lot of Splanglish. Such a wonderful way to learn.


That is a sloth. Only the second one I've ever seen, so I was pretty thrilled to watch him robotically crawl upside down on the power line...as were these captivated tourists.


The guy that worked at the hostel said they come around all time. Old news for him, but he still snapped a few photos.

Best story ever. (Unfortunetly, there is no photo to accompany.)

I walked into the hostel and an old, senile lookin lady was sitting on the couch on her laptop. My first interaction with her came after I touched a stray dog. 

"Don't touch that dog!! Sho! Sho!" She got up, running (er, hobbling) at the dog and clapping her hands to try to chase it away. 

"Please, go wash your hands! These dogs are dangerous!"

I looked down at the innocent puppy dog eyes and nodded as the grandma continued ranting. "Okay, okay, thanks." I mumbled and rolled my eyes. 

Later, I walked back in the room and grandma (I never did get her name) walked over to me. She was tall but hunched over just enough to look...terrifying. She put her hands together and bowed in front of me monk style.

"I'm sorry, I am a grandmother like figure, and we all love dogs -"

"Actually I hate dogs..." She ignored me.

"...we all love dogs but, these dogs are dangerous. And we would hate to see you unwell."

"...ah, alright. Thank you." I stepped past her, completely unsure how to respond. She was senile!

My German friend Lena and I headed out for food for awhile, and when we came back, grandma was...chipper.

"Hello girls! Oh you look so happy." She said some other stuff I probably ignored. "...but I'm just an old lady. Wouldn't you love a grandma like me?" I laughed and walked past. Dude. She really was crazy.

A little later I was talking to an older guy who owned a bed and breakfast down the road.  "Yeah, the 75 year old lady drove that van over there..." He gestured towards a rusty looking red van parked behind some trees, "...all the way from Canada. She doesn't know a word of Spanish. And, she smokes lots of weed. I get it for her."

...whaaat? This is ridiculous. The next few days, we would see her either sitting in the same position on the couch with her laptop, or sitting at the picnic table with a huge jar of nuts. Slowly picking them out and eating them...grandma style. 

One night, while it poured rain outside, the kids from the hostel sat around eating, smoking, chatting...and grandma walks in. Something between a walk, stumble, dance... And she's laughing. 

"Ahaha, yeah, I was hanging out with this lady and she popped open a bottle of something. It was old, must have been more potent..." More laughing. "...guys! The grandma is drunk!" She plopped down on the couch. Hilarious. Seriously ridiculous...

Ahaha. Anyway... A little entertainment for the journey.

So after all the adventures down in El Valle, Lena and I got up early to catch a bus back 40 minutes up the mountain to the Pan-American highway. We were both headed north, and no buses directly go anywhere besides the city. Everyone said it was best to go back 2 hours south to catch a bus, but Lena and I didn't like the idea of going four extra hours in a bus, no matter how comfortable, so we opted for jumping out and waiting at a little stop beside the busy highway.



Thankfully, it was hot and sunny, not rainy. It had actually been dry the whole day before, so I figured it would be our luck that it would rain as we stood outside waiting for a bus.


"Hey, Lena, want to take bets how long it will be before a bus stops for us?"
"Oh man." She made a face. 
"I think, 27 minutes."
"I hope not."
"You should say like, three, so it's somewhere between." She said three. I said it'd probably actually be hours. 

As we waited, I chatted with a little old man with a top hat. The most adorable man ever, but if course I missed that photo too.

Approximately 27 minutes later, a little van stopped. It said "Las Palmas." We had no idea where that was, but they assured us in way-too-fast Spanish that they went by Santiago. So, we hopped in.

The ride was uneventful, besides a 50 year old guy (married with two kids) who was too disappointed that I had un novio, who kept scooting closer as I scooted away...

We drove past mostly flat farm country...


...and endless fields of sugar cane. Think Iowa corn field endless. I learned that the sugar is mostly maintained by hand, but harvested by machine. I can't even imagine trying to weed Iowa corn fields by hand...


The van drove fast, playing traditional latin music, and stopping every few miles to pick up people from the side of the road. We made one quick stop for food and el baño, and I bought some homemade sugar candy for $1.25. It tasted and was the consistency of maple syrup candy, minus the maple taste...


Dispite the good Spanish practice with the guy next to me, I was glad when we arrived in Santiago. I said goodbye to him and Lena, and caught a bus to David.


I sat next to several backpackers and we chatted and made fun of the repetitive reggaeton music videos playing over the van's tvs. Such an unoriginal genre of music. Take my word for it, it's not worth looking up.

Finally, after a should-be two hour drive taking four thanks to the construction the whole way, a bus to Boquete, a ride in a van with some very nice strangers, and a very long wait at a gas station, I was picked up by my dear friends Vickie and Scott from Wisconsin, who live in the beautiful middle of nowhere. :)

It's been wonderful being back, and for now I am content to just be here, practicing Spanish, talking about Bible prophecy, falling in love with God again, and taking selfies with the cows across the street.


There will be more, much more, but this blog has been long enough...even longer, considering that halfway through my app ate the post and I had to start over.

Much love to all. I love hearing that you love reading my blogs and can never wait to read the next ones. You guys rock!! :)


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