Continuing with the theme of bringing some classics from my old blog back to life online, here is one that is near and dear to my heart:
The Laundry Incident
It was December of 2005 and I had decided to spend X-mas with my grandparents who live in Puerto Rico. It was about that time when I had to leave the country for 72hrs to re-enter it again to update my “tourist status” anyway (we have to do that every 90days or so here - you guessed it, more red tape) so I figured why not go to P.R. which is not as far as Canada to be with some family for the holidays. I stayed there for 3 days, short trip, I know,…and flew back into Panama boxing day.
Two days later I decided to hop on a bus with a small group of friends for a long (yet really quick) drive to an area of Panama called Bocas Del Torro. For anyone who has not yet been, PLEASE make the effort to go. You will not regret it. It is by far the most beautiful area of this country that I have been to. I still have not been to San Blas though, so for now I can say that. Anyway, spending New Years in Bocas was one of the best times I have had in a long time. I’m writing this now 8 months later and I still sit back and grin when I think of that trip….oh my…more stories to blog about soon…
So we get back from Bocas and I realize that between working a lot and then taking two trips back to back like that, I was long overdo for some laundry. In fact, I had just about nothing clean except for 1 pair of dress pants and a blouse. So what do I do? I decide what the hell, I take all my clothes and stuff them into the giant green army dufflebag (it was my fathers from when he was in the army) and take them all over to this little laundrymat that I always went to. This place was run by a small chinese family…really nice people. They knew me by name and we chatted a bit whenever I brought my clothes in. I used to be able to get like 3 loads of laundry washed, dried, folded and sorted and ready for pick up the next day for like $4….not bad in my books. So I took ALL of my clothes and brought them over. The lady smiled, we chitchatted and she took my clothes and gave me my receipt. I headed home feeling good that I got that out of the way.
So the next day I went by to pick up my clothes immediately after work and the laundry mat was closed. Oddly enough it didn’t just look closed…it looked shut down. All the windows looked like they were painted black….I thought it was weird but I was sure there was an explanation. After 2 more days passed and I was without clothes and the laundrymat was still closed and dark, I started to panic…..I wasn’t sure what to do if they closed down because at the time I didn’t know that this laundrymat was a franchise and had other branches in random parts of the city. Had I known that then, I would have been able to go to another branch and ask them where the hell my clothes are..
More days passed and I was sitting outside of a friend’s place one night when my roommate called my cellphone. She had just walked by the laundrymat place and decided to call me when she realized what happened. I will never forget the words that rang through my ears that night….”jen, the laundrymat isn’t just closed….its closed… The black windows isn’t paint or covering….it’s smoke and ash! THE LAUNDRY PLACE BURNT DOWN!!” Great…just freakin great.
Did I mention that I packed ALL of my clothes in that dufflebag to get washed? ALL??? ggrrrrr….. Do you know how hard it is for a woman like myself to find clothes that i actually like? Let me share something about myself here….I HATE to shop for myself. I HATE to buy new clothes. When I DO find something good, it’s gold and I treasure it. I’m convinced that somebody up there was getting back at me for something bad I did in a past life….I was convinced. All my clothes….gone. Did I ever recover? Not really….Did I cry? Maybe….am I still pissed when I think about it? YES. But life goes on I suppose….*sigh*
The End
Pushing & Thriving as a Fitness Specialist & Beauty Consultant. Live Life, Love Life and Make Every Day Count!
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Classic Series - The Darrien Experience
Again, continuing with my classic series, I've decided that some of my old masterpieces need homes on the world wide web so here is another:
The Darrien Experience
This is a story about an incident that occurred with my roommate and I and a buddy of hers while trying to get to a beach. My roommate who I will call “honeybrown” (stealing the nik from El Rob) had a friend visiting her from Canada who I will call “whitey” and if you’re lucky I might get around to posting why I call him that one day soon. Whitey was staying with us for three weeks and during that time I think it is safe to say that he had an awesome time and lots of stories to tell. This story however is special because of all of the other stories, I would have to say it is this one that creates the most emotion for me when I tell it.
My girlfriend Reyna invited the three of us to stay at her place one Saturday night so that we can wake up super early and leave from her house to go spend all of Sunday at the beach. As Canadians, we love the beach and so naturally, we were sold on the idea. Sunday morning came around and we got up early to get dressed for the beach (I had a green bikini and really cute little green sundress and honeybrown had on similar attire but in a fun orange color I believe), pack Reyna’s car and head out to a nearby supermarket to fill up a cooler before heading out. On the way to the supermarket Reyna tells us that she has a few other friends who are going to be coming in their own cars. Ok…sounds cool so far. So we get to the supermarket and she tells us to go ahead inside and buy what we need to while she parks her car and looks for her friends in the parking lot who were apparently waiting for us there. No problem. We find what we need at the supermarket and are heading outside when we realize that Reyna is nowhere to be found. Scratching our heads, puzzled at the idea that she would just leave a bunch of foreigners there, I called her cellphone. Turns out that she went back home to go park her car because her friend has a giant vehicle that we can call fit in and go in together. Ok…I’m not panicking yet. A few minutes and half a bag of melted ice later, we are waiting as she shows up in a giant old forerunner and introduces us to this ugly fat man who was actually really nice so we piled into the car and headed out. Realizing how hot the sun was we were all very excited for the beach but tired from the activities of the previous night so we decided to close our eyes and get a tiny nap fit into the schedule since we weren’t driving.
I woke up an hour later and realized that we should have been at the beach by then or at LEAST be somewhere where we can see the coast. But that wasn’t the case. All I saw were trees. So I asked Reyna where we were going and she just smiled and said “oh he has a farm that is going to be much more fun than the beach…..A FARM?? What the hell?? First of all, we are Canadian….we know farm life….and if we wanted farm life, we would have been in Canada. Secondly, we are in bikinis and sundresses and sandles…do we look like we want to go to a farm?! NO. We planned on the beach, we were told we were going to a beach and so we stayed at her house so it would be convenient to go to a beach. Mierda.
I think I made it pretty obvious that I was not impressed. I sat back and glared at her as she talked up this farm making it sound so fun and exciting because he had horses. I love horses, don’t get me wrong. But not that day I didn’t. How rude of them to change the plans like that without even consulting us! I was insulted and embarrassed because at the time honeybrown and whitey spoke almost no Spanish between the two of them so I had to explain the change in plans that my girlfriend went ahead with (since Reyna speaks no English). Their faces dropped much the same way mine did when I heard that. But what could we do? We couldn’t tell them to pull over and get out of the car. We had no idea where we were. In fact, when we asked where we were and where this farm is, the answer bewildered me even more….Darrien…also known as the province nobody goes to. Darrien is a large province in southern Panama that actually connects with the Colombian border. This is a no-go zone because of all the guerilla warefare going on and the extreme stuff that tourists want no part of, going on at the boarder. Any foreigner can read from any travel book to stay far away from this area as it is known for kidnappings of foreigners. And this farm was right smack in the middle of this province. Hell, in a sense, was this not a kidnapping? We were all so pissed that I don’t think we spoke 2 more words the entire way to where we were going.
Suddenly, the vehicle stops somewhere in the jungle next to a brook where 3 or 4 of the ugliest, dirtiest horses I’ve seen in a long time were standing. As if this couldn’t get any better the guy driving says this is as far as the car will take us. What the hell? I stood there in amazement as these people actually expected me to jump on one of these horses and follow them…in my sundress, bikini and sandals. Call us picky and no fun but screw that. So I asked how far we were going and if we could just walk it. “SURE!” the guy says…”It’s just like 5 or 10mins up that hill”. Ok fine, we discussed sitting in the stream and sipping on beer from our cooler and waiting out the day there until they were done enjoying the farm but realized that we are the better people here because after what they just did to us, we were actually still trying to be considerate. I look back and laugh.
That stream looked like the closest thing we were going to get to a beach and if we had half a brain we would have stayed there and waited and made them feel bad for doing that to us by not going and sitting and sulking. Hahaha But no…we tried to make the best of it. We started walking and everyone else took off on the horses. There was a path but nobody waited to make sure we were ok on that path. A 5min walk soon turned into a 35min hike knee-deep in horse shit….yes folks….horseshit. I wish I were kidding or even exaggerating. By the time we got to the “farm” everyone who went on horses had finished a few beers, were cooking a meal and laying in hammocks watching us and laughing.
I don’t think there are words to describe the mixed emotions I felt at the moment I arrived at the farmhouse. I was so upset I wanted to cry. I was pissed off cause we were not at a beach and had no say in it. I was tired from the hike in the sun, suffering from a sprained ankle, COVERED in horse shit and panicking because I’ve been told that in places like that people catch random diseases like Dingue, and I was oh so pissed off at the smiling faces we met up with at the house. They were laughing at us! Unbelievable! Oh and it’s also worth noting that honeybrown at this point started hyperventilating and laughing at the same time as tears ran down her face because she has issues with gross things between out toes. Considering we had flimsy sandals on that wound up getting lost or caught in the horseshit as we trudged through it (and we were certainly not going to go digging for it with our hands), the ickiness between the toes was unavoidable.
Needless to say on the way back we took horses…..so not impressed. Lesson learned? Don’t count on Reyna to do what you want to do. I know that sounds harsh because she really is a nice, sweet person. But she also showed me her inconsiderate and rude side that day as she pursued her own interests alone (because this guy who owned the farm was ugly and fat but rich and hitting on her). Panamanian women LOVE attention so much that they would do things like that to their foreign friends. Unbelievable.
Coming up next: The Laundry Incident...
The Darrien Experience
This is a story about an incident that occurred with my roommate and I and a buddy of hers while trying to get to a beach. My roommate who I will call “honeybrown” (stealing the nik from El Rob) had a friend visiting her from Canada who I will call “whitey” and if you’re lucky I might get around to posting why I call him that one day soon. Whitey was staying with us for three weeks and during that time I think it is safe to say that he had an awesome time and lots of stories to tell. This story however is special because of all of the other stories, I would have to say it is this one that creates the most emotion for me when I tell it.
My girlfriend Reyna invited the three of us to stay at her place one Saturday night so that we can wake up super early and leave from her house to go spend all of Sunday at the beach. As Canadians, we love the beach and so naturally, we were sold on the idea. Sunday morning came around and we got up early to get dressed for the beach (I had a green bikini and really cute little green sundress and honeybrown had on similar attire but in a fun orange color I believe), pack Reyna’s car and head out to a nearby supermarket to fill up a cooler before heading out. On the way to the supermarket Reyna tells us that she has a few other friends who are going to be coming in their own cars. Ok…sounds cool so far. So we get to the supermarket and she tells us to go ahead inside and buy what we need to while she parks her car and looks for her friends in the parking lot who were apparently waiting for us there. No problem. We find what we need at the supermarket and are heading outside when we realize that Reyna is nowhere to be found. Scratching our heads, puzzled at the idea that she would just leave a bunch of foreigners there, I called her cellphone. Turns out that she went back home to go park her car because her friend has a giant vehicle that we can call fit in and go in together. Ok…I’m not panicking yet. A few minutes and half a bag of melted ice later, we are waiting as she shows up in a giant old forerunner and introduces us to this ugly fat man who was actually really nice so we piled into the car and headed out. Realizing how hot the sun was we were all very excited for the beach but tired from the activities of the previous night so we decided to close our eyes and get a tiny nap fit into the schedule since we weren’t driving.
I woke up an hour later and realized that we should have been at the beach by then or at LEAST be somewhere where we can see the coast. But that wasn’t the case. All I saw were trees. So I asked Reyna where we were going and she just smiled and said “oh he has a farm that is going to be much more fun than the beach…..A FARM?? What the hell?? First of all, we are Canadian….we know farm life….and if we wanted farm life, we would have been in Canada. Secondly, we are in bikinis and sundresses and sandles…do we look like we want to go to a farm?! NO. We planned on the beach, we were told we were going to a beach and so we stayed at her house so it would be convenient to go to a beach. Mierda.
I think I made it pretty obvious that I was not impressed. I sat back and glared at her as she talked up this farm making it sound so fun and exciting because he had horses. I love horses, don’t get me wrong. But not that day I didn’t. How rude of them to change the plans like that without even consulting us! I was insulted and embarrassed because at the time honeybrown and whitey spoke almost no Spanish between the two of them so I had to explain the change in plans that my girlfriend went ahead with (since Reyna speaks no English). Their faces dropped much the same way mine did when I heard that. But what could we do? We couldn’t tell them to pull over and get out of the car. We had no idea where we were. In fact, when we asked where we were and where this farm is, the answer bewildered me even more….Darrien…also known as the province nobody goes to. Darrien is a large province in southern Panama that actually connects with the Colombian border. This is a no-go zone because of all the guerilla warefare going on and the extreme stuff that tourists want no part of, going on at the boarder. Any foreigner can read from any travel book to stay far away from this area as it is known for kidnappings of foreigners. And this farm was right smack in the middle of this province. Hell, in a sense, was this not a kidnapping? We were all so pissed that I don’t think we spoke 2 more words the entire way to where we were going.
Suddenly, the vehicle stops somewhere in the jungle next to a brook where 3 or 4 of the ugliest, dirtiest horses I’ve seen in a long time were standing. As if this couldn’t get any better the guy driving says this is as far as the car will take us. What the hell? I stood there in amazement as these people actually expected me to jump on one of these horses and follow them…in my sundress, bikini and sandals. Call us picky and no fun but screw that. So I asked how far we were going and if we could just walk it. “SURE!” the guy says…”It’s just like 5 or 10mins up that hill”. Ok fine, we discussed sitting in the stream and sipping on beer from our cooler and waiting out the day there until they were done enjoying the farm but realized that we are the better people here because after what they just did to us, we were actually still trying to be considerate. I look back and laugh.
That stream looked like the closest thing we were going to get to a beach and if we had half a brain we would have stayed there and waited and made them feel bad for doing that to us by not going and sitting and sulking. Hahaha But no…we tried to make the best of it. We started walking and everyone else took off on the horses. There was a path but nobody waited to make sure we were ok on that path. A 5min walk soon turned into a 35min hike knee-deep in horse shit….yes folks….horseshit. I wish I were kidding or even exaggerating. By the time we got to the “farm” everyone who went on horses had finished a few beers, were cooking a meal and laying in hammocks watching us and laughing.
I don’t think there are words to describe the mixed emotions I felt at the moment I arrived at the farmhouse. I was so upset I wanted to cry. I was pissed off cause we were not at a beach and had no say in it. I was tired from the hike in the sun, suffering from a sprained ankle, COVERED in horse shit and panicking because I’ve been told that in places like that people catch random diseases like Dingue, and I was oh so pissed off at the smiling faces we met up with at the house. They were laughing at us! Unbelievable! Oh and it’s also worth noting that honeybrown at this point started hyperventilating and laughing at the same time as tears ran down her face because she has issues with gross things between out toes. Considering we had flimsy sandals on that wound up getting lost or caught in the horseshit as we trudged through it (and we were certainly not going to go digging for it with our hands), the ickiness between the toes was unavoidable.
Needless to say on the way back we took horses…..so not impressed. Lesson learned? Don’t count on Reyna to do what you want to do. I know that sounds harsh because she really is a nice, sweet person. But she also showed me her inconsiderate and rude side that day as she pursued her own interests alone (because this guy who owned the farm was ugly and fat but rich and hitting on her). Panamanian women LOVE attention so much that they would do things like that to their foreign friends. Unbelievable.
Coming up next: The Laundry Incident...
Friday, January 2, 2009
Classic Series - El Valle Hike
Some of you know that before this blog, I had another blog site that I used to keep track of my crazy stories of life in Panama. That blog was part of the PortoDiao.com group, who I still have the highest respect for; however as I am no longer residing in Panama, I've moved onto the independent wagon of blogging. I kept most of my postings in this old space so decided that it is time to bring back the classics for your reading pleasure. Over the next few days, I will be bringing back what I think are the best of my past posts beginning with this one:
Story 1. - The Hike I will never forget (dated sometime in 2006):
Last night I was driving back from Casco Viejo (an awesome part of the city for night life) with some friends when we were stopped at a traffic light and I saw a truck that had a bunch of guys hanging off the back of it. Suddenly I was reminded of this hiking trip that I had taken with some friends a while back and I was in tears from laughing so hard in the back of this car. This image of the people hanging off this truck reminded me of such a minuscule part of that hiking story but it was still great. The story goes like this:
One day my roommate and her boyfriend, when they were just hooking up, send me an email with information about a weekend hike that this tourism company was offering for $40. The add said we would be hiking for 4 hrs the first day and then 5 hrs the next before catching the bus back to the city. This $40 included transportation to and from the city (a few hours bus ride), a guided tour and a meal on the afternoon of day two. I love the outdoors and hiking, it was in a part of the country that I knew from experience was absolutely beautiful, the advertisement seemed like this company knew what they were doing and the price was right so 4 of us packed our tents and bug spray and hopped aboard the bus early that morning.
A few hours later we stopped for a rest and a bathroom break and then continue on our way to this beautiful area. Once we arrive there we are told that someone was supposed to meet us at this rest stop and that someone was supposed to be our tour guide…but he never showed. So another guy who was with us from that company did the noble thing and stepped in to take his place cause he was “experienced” with the hike. So far no complaints. Was I naive in trusting him when he said he knew what he was doing? Some people may say yes but I dont think so. In fact after a few minutes of walking I learned from a few others who were walking with me that they had done the same hike with the same guy as the group leader before. This was good. This told me that they not only survived but they must have enjoyed it if they were coming back for seconds.
As the hike goes into it’s 4th hour and the sun is starting to set I found myself starting to have second thoughts about this hike and especially about this dude. There was about 16 of us who were hiking with him if I recall correctly and we were all of different sizes, shapes and ages. In fact there were some people on this hike who were older and possibly h ad heart conditions. I noticed right off the bat that we were lied to when we were told it was an easy hike. The terrain was TOUGH. With the intense heat and constant inclination as we made our way up one of the slippery mountain (and I mean UP folks…we’re talking like 90degrees up on all fours with the giant bags on our backs), it was no surprise that some people were falling behind and needing breaks more often than this tour guide who was in great shape and used to the hike. By the end of day one we weren’t actually settled in our tents until well after 9:30pm and we were all DEAD. We had a little picnic in the dark with flashlights where we feasted on tuna, block cheese and crackers. Let me mention here that we had been hiking for over 7 hours by now and so being as seven is more than the 4 we were told about, our water and food supplies were already dwindling.
Day two started bright and early as we were up with the sun packing up our things and back on the trails again before 8am. Our legs had a few hours to rest and so were feeling like jello. It wasnt until about an hour after I started hiking again that I felt my legs were completely there, and this was only because the physical pain, sweat and burn were the constant reminders. After 5hrs that we were well out of water and food supplies that we bought with us (remember, we were planning for a 5hr hike the second day) and yet we had barely hit the halfway mark. Why? I don't know. Maybe the people who set this up thought they would be taking a bunch of superheros with them on this hike. We were traveling fast and tough and given the crazy heat and sun I was thoroughly impressed that nobody passed out from exhaustion or dehydration. I was on the verge of dehydration. What saved me? Drinking water from a river we stopped at. That’s right folks. I’m hiking through the mountains of a third world country where the locals travel by foot or horse only, horseshit everywhere along the paths….and I decide to drink the water. Was I looking for disease? No…I was looking to survive. Was I happy about having to resort to that…..NO.
The cream of the cake though was (and this proves how fast we were hiking through this mountain) when we LOST three people who were lagging behind. Our group was so spread out and people were lagging so far behind that we didn’t realize that we lost them until over an hour after it happened. I remember that anger towards this man who was leading us began to form at this point. He was in the front of the group and so when he would stop and rest, it would leave just enough time for the others to catch up. By then he had been resting for about 20mins and so got up and started again….but these people who had just caught up had to either skip the rest or risk losing him again. What kind of a tour guide doesn't wait for his group? My favorite was when he realized that the group was lost. We remembered exactly where and when it happened. There was a fork in a path about an hour back and he didn’t bother waiting to tell people what way to go. In fact I specifically remember my roommate and I saw which way he went and then waited for the people behind us to catch up so we could tell them what way to go and so then they would wait for the next people and so on and so forth. Good system? Sure…unless you are at the back and you think you are the last person in line when you are in fact not….which is what happened. So naturally these three people who were lagging behind took the wrong way and we saw the bright colors of their shirts about 2 mountain tops away over an hour later….shit.
So how do you react when you are a tour guide and you realize that you have lost three people you were responsible for? Well, you don't start screaming and throwing a hissy fit and blaming it all on them and try to get the group to carry on without them…that’s for sure. But that is exactly what he did. Amazing. He only finally agreed to try to go back for them when another dude in the group volunteered….guess he couldn't look bad so after the obligation ate at him for a while, he went back. Although I was grateful for the break we got from having to wait for him to come back from finding these people, I was suddenly unsure of things. Besides the fact that the hike was taking hours longer than we were told it would, and besides having to drink the river water that had god knows what type of bacteria floating in it and besides being out of food, tired and sweating so badly I couldn't stand my own smell, it was a fun hike (with the exception of the whining that was coming from known parties - you know who you are)…until that moment where i saw how our “guide” reacted in a crisis. I was unimpressed at that moment.
ANYWAY, to make a longer rest of the story shorter, we all made it home in one piece….barely and at midnightish. After a few doctors appointments we are all happy and healthy and sit back and laugh about the experience now. We wound up going on without those lost individuals and somewhere along the line while waiting at our rendez-vous spot, some native locals brought them to us on horses. Talk about lucky.
Some other quick highlights of that camping trip:
- When this native woman came up to us (god bless her) with a bushel of bananas…i guess she saw how badly we wanted and needed them and let me tell you…I think that was the best banana I had ever eaten in my life.
- When we were picked up and thrown in the back of a truck to the finish line which had a river for us to swim at and cool off and get that “meal” (which turned out to be nothing). Haleluhia I say hahaha.
- When we got to the swimming hole and honey brown found a tick stuck on her leg.
- When Angie and myself kept falling in the mudd.
and my favorite:
- When one of the old ladies who got lost caught up with us and helped me tell off the tour guide. We sent him to hell and refused to talk to him again the entire way home.
Awe the joy….the list can go on and on. In the end, i would definitely hike again like that. The scenery was too beautiful to pass up. All I would do differently the next time around is make sure I get a bit more information about the company hosting the hike, the guide’s abilities and I would definitely pack a little more carefully. This was my fault though…I should have known after "the Darrien experience" that to Panamanians, a 4 hour hike is really a 9 hour one. I take full responsibility for not acknowledging that in advance.
You win some you lose some though right?
Next posting: "The Darrien Experience" - Priceless story that will explain the comment I made at the end of this posting.... stay tuned!
Story 1. - The Hike I will never forget (dated sometime in 2006):
Last night I was driving back from Casco Viejo (an awesome part of the city for night life) with some friends when we were stopped at a traffic light and I saw a truck that had a bunch of guys hanging off the back of it. Suddenly I was reminded of this hiking trip that I had taken with some friends a while back and I was in tears from laughing so hard in the back of this car. This image of the people hanging off this truck reminded me of such a minuscule part of that hiking story but it was still great. The story goes like this:
One day my roommate and her boyfriend, when they were just hooking up, send me an email with information about a weekend hike that this tourism company was offering for $40. The add said we would be hiking for 4 hrs the first day and then 5 hrs the next before catching the bus back to the city. This $40 included transportation to and from the city (a few hours bus ride), a guided tour and a meal on the afternoon of day two. I love the outdoors and hiking, it was in a part of the country that I knew from experience was absolutely beautiful, the advertisement seemed like this company knew what they were doing and the price was right so 4 of us packed our tents and bug spray and hopped aboard the bus early that morning.
A few hours later we stopped for a rest and a bathroom break and then continue on our way to this beautiful area. Once we arrive there we are told that someone was supposed to meet us at this rest stop and that someone was supposed to be our tour guide…but he never showed. So another guy who was with us from that company did the noble thing and stepped in to take his place cause he was “experienced” with the hike. So far no complaints. Was I naive in trusting him when he said he knew what he was doing? Some people may say yes but I dont think so. In fact after a few minutes of walking I learned from a few others who were walking with me that they had done the same hike with the same guy as the group leader before. This was good. This told me that they not only survived but they must have enjoyed it if they were coming back for seconds.
As the hike goes into it’s 4th hour and the sun is starting to set I found myself starting to have second thoughts about this hike and especially about this dude. There was about 16 of us who were hiking with him if I recall correctly and we were all of different sizes, shapes and ages. In fact there were some people on this hike who were older and possibly h ad heart conditions. I noticed right off the bat that we were lied to when we were told it was an easy hike. The terrain was TOUGH. With the intense heat and constant inclination as we made our way up one of the slippery mountain (and I mean UP folks…we’re talking like 90degrees up on all fours with the giant bags on our backs), it was no surprise that some people were falling behind and needing breaks more often than this tour guide who was in great shape and used to the hike. By the end of day one we weren’t actually settled in our tents until well after 9:30pm and we were all DEAD. We had a little picnic in the dark with flashlights where we feasted on tuna, block cheese and crackers. Let me mention here that we had been hiking for over 7 hours by now and so being as seven is more than the 4 we were told about, our water and food supplies were already dwindling.
Day two started bright and early as we were up with the sun packing up our things and back on the trails again before 8am. Our legs had a few hours to rest and so were feeling like jello. It wasnt until about an hour after I started hiking again that I felt my legs were completely there, and this was only because the physical pain, sweat and burn were the constant reminders. After 5hrs that we were well out of water and food supplies that we bought with us (remember, we were planning for a 5hr hike the second day) and yet we had barely hit the halfway mark. Why? I don't know. Maybe the people who set this up thought they would be taking a bunch of superheros with them on this hike. We were traveling fast and tough and given the crazy heat and sun I was thoroughly impressed that nobody passed out from exhaustion or dehydration. I was on the verge of dehydration. What saved me? Drinking water from a river we stopped at. That’s right folks. I’m hiking through the mountains of a third world country where the locals travel by foot or horse only, horseshit everywhere along the paths….and I decide to drink the water. Was I looking for disease? No…I was looking to survive. Was I happy about having to resort to that…..NO.
The cream of the cake though was (and this proves how fast we were hiking through this mountain) when we LOST three people who were lagging behind. Our group was so spread out and people were lagging so far behind that we didn’t realize that we lost them until over an hour after it happened. I remember that anger towards this man who was leading us began to form at this point. He was in the front of the group and so when he would stop and rest, it would leave just enough time for the others to catch up. By then he had been resting for about 20mins and so got up and started again….but these people who had just caught up had to either skip the rest or risk losing him again. What kind of a tour guide doesn't wait for his group? My favorite was when he realized that the group was lost. We remembered exactly where and when it happened. There was a fork in a path about an hour back and he didn’t bother waiting to tell people what way to go. In fact I specifically remember my roommate and I saw which way he went and then waited for the people behind us to catch up so we could tell them what way to go and so then they would wait for the next people and so on and so forth. Good system? Sure…unless you are at the back and you think you are the last person in line when you are in fact not….which is what happened. So naturally these three people who were lagging behind took the wrong way and we saw the bright colors of their shirts about 2 mountain tops away over an hour later….shit.
So how do you react when you are a tour guide and you realize that you have lost three people you were responsible for? Well, you don't start screaming and throwing a hissy fit and blaming it all on them and try to get the group to carry on without them…that’s for sure. But that is exactly what he did. Amazing. He only finally agreed to try to go back for them when another dude in the group volunteered….guess he couldn't look bad so after the obligation ate at him for a while, he went back. Although I was grateful for the break we got from having to wait for him to come back from finding these people, I was suddenly unsure of things. Besides the fact that the hike was taking hours longer than we were told it would, and besides having to drink the river water that had god knows what type of bacteria floating in it and besides being out of food, tired and sweating so badly I couldn't stand my own smell, it was a fun hike (with the exception of the whining that was coming from known parties - you know who you are)…until that moment where i saw how our “guide” reacted in a crisis. I was unimpressed at that moment.
ANYWAY, to make a longer rest of the story shorter, we all made it home in one piece….barely and at midnightish. After a few doctors appointments we are all happy and healthy and sit back and laugh about the experience now. We wound up going on without those lost individuals and somewhere along the line while waiting at our rendez-vous spot, some native locals brought them to us on horses. Talk about lucky.
Some other quick highlights of that camping trip:
- When this native woman came up to us (god bless her) with a bushel of bananas…i guess she saw how badly we wanted and needed them and let me tell you…I think that was the best banana I had ever eaten in my life.
- When we were picked up and thrown in the back of a truck to the finish line which had a river for us to swim at and cool off and get that “meal” (which turned out to be nothing). Haleluhia I say hahaha.
- When we got to the swimming hole and honey brown found a tick stuck on her leg.
- When Angie and myself kept falling in the mudd.
and my favorite:
- When one of the old ladies who got lost caught up with us and helped me tell off the tour guide. We sent him to hell and refused to talk to him again the entire way home.
Awe the joy….the list can go on and on. In the end, i would definitely hike again like that. The scenery was too beautiful to pass up. All I would do differently the next time around is make sure I get a bit more information about the company hosting the hike, the guide’s abilities and I would definitely pack a little more carefully. This was my fault though…I should have known after "the Darrien experience" that to Panamanians, a 4 hour hike is really a 9 hour one. I take full responsibility for not acknowledging that in advance.
You win some you lose some though right?
Next posting: "The Darrien Experience" - Priceless story that will explain the comment I made at the end of this posting.... stay tuned!
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