"...on a jet plane"

       Well, this is it – the final entry for “Panama Calling”.  I fly out of here tomorrow for Panama City, then on to home #1.  Yes, even with all the crazy stuff I’ve written about Boquete, Panama in this here blog, I will consider this my second home. 

Hell, maybe I’ll end up with many more homes in the future. 

I heard someone say “If it weren’t for the loneliness I’d spend my life travelling.” Maybe it was from Lawrence of Arabia – I dunno.

When I first started this blog my intention was to inform its readers about what life in the tropics is like for a gringo.  Of course, I have a hard time taking life too seriously, but there is some truth in almost everything I’ve written here.

 

If you do plan to travel down this way, don’t think it is like a Jimmy Buffett song (though Margaritaville does exist at the bottom of a Cuervo bottle).

You know those photos you see of a hammock tied between two palm trees?  Have you ever noticed that the hammock is always empty?  That’s because models are usually paid by the hour, and it takes two full hours to get out of a hammock – it is just not cost effective.

Then there is the Caribbean breeze blowing the long hair of a gorgeous model as she strolls barefoot down the beach.  What you don’t see is the

oppressive heat and unbelievable humidity.  By the time the model walks fifty yards she must be fitted for a smaller swimming suite, and her hair is hanging like a wet mop.

As soon as the photographer gets the shot he needs, you’d see the model screaming, and waving her arms like an epileptic have a grand mal seizure, bolting madly down the beach trying to out-run the mosquitoes and the vendors chasing her for her blood and money.

The reality of Central America can be wrapped up in a few words; Poverty, inequity, hope, and hopelessness, beauty and suspicion.  No wait – that’s North America.

 

My point is this;

I suggest that everyone thinks about visiting Central America.  Then after thinking about it, read my blog entries, then think about it again.  If you still decide to come to Panama, just remember that this is NOT your country, you pasty-white, arrogant, American! These are beautiful people in a beautiful country – their country.  Your country is The United States, and as fucked up as it may seem, remember WE fucked it up.  Let’s let these folks fuck up their own country, they don’t need our help.

Okay, I’ve gotta pack – So, Adios Amigos, I’m headed home.

                           DP