Portland Calling

                

       “I’ll miss you, cowardly American, and how you are so afraid of insects, yet decided to move into the middle of a tropical jungle.”

        “Good-bye, goofy-looking, wandering man, may your diligent patrol lead you in circles forever.”

       “And you, Edwardo, you big, crazy, bastard, I’ll miss you wandering around in your underwear, and barging your way into my house! Oh, I think I’ll miss you the most!  Who is going to inspect my toilet, and tear open my food with their gross teeth?  I’ll miss that sweet, shark-like twinkle in your dead eyes when you reach out for my junk.” (I’d kiss you on the cheek, but you’ve got a little something there.  Not sure what it is)

                                      *  *  *  *

      

       Yes, I’ve made the decision to leave this quaint little town in Panama and go back to Portland, Oregon, USA.  The constant eighty-degree weather, relaxing rain, and vibrant rainbows here in Boquete are no match for the dreary, wet, cold winters of The Pacific Northwest.

       I will miss the way that trash lines the streets of this ol’ Boquete. It gives me something to look at while I walk with my head down, trying to keep my hat on, and the dust out of my eyes.

 

I will miss seeing the pile of beer bottles and rusting cans outside the club, “Taboo”, which is directly across the street from the recycling center.  

       I will miss standing on the many bridges that cross the streams which flow into the Caldera river. For,

they carry the human waste, plastic bottles, and grocery bags, which give that ‘boring bit of nature’ a little extra sparkle.

I’ll miss “Gringo   Bingo”, the game played by local merchants, involving the psychic ability to guess which foreigners have the most money, and how to separate it from them.  It looks like a hoot for the Panamanians, and after all, isn’t that all that matters?

       I’ll also miss the ubiquitous snotty, self-righteous, entitled, puffy, pale, Americans, who sit around bitching about the centuries-old traditions held by the local natives, and how “these people” are so ignorant.  I’ll miss that kind of give and take; Gringos giving the Panamanians shit, and the Panamanians taking it.  (Anyone for a quick game of Bingo?) 

       I will miss the constant singing of birds, sung by the myriad species calling from the surrounding exotic trees.  But, once I hear the constant chirping, beeping, and screeching of car alarms back in The States, that memory will fade too.

      

          Yes, all these are things that I will miss.

But there are things that I do miss now, like my family, and friends.  Things like; health insurance, hot water, going to the movies, Taco Bell, and washing machines – these things I miss now.

But the thing I miss the most is being able to have a meaningful conversation with someone – someone who understands what I am saying – someone who doesn’t lick her own butt while I’m talking to her. (Though there are gringos who would pay good money for those things)

I have had my adventure here, and I will have others in the years that follow.  But(t) first, there is spelunking to be done.  I should get a colonoscopy, and I sure as hell don’t want it to be done by someone who won’t understand my trepidation, or that licks their own ass.

 Because in the end ...

DP