Sometimes it’s good to relearn things about yourself, important things but things perhaps forgotten with time and routine. My seven days in Panama, even beginning before leaving Colombia, have been largely a relearning experience for me.

The main thing I’ve relearned is how focused, persistent, and resilient I can be in reaching an objective. In this case, it was the focus, persistence, and resilience in finding destinations in a country that suffers from a serious allergy to signs. On several occasions — more the rule than the exception — it took all those traits to not simply throw my hands in the air and say . . . well, I won’t say what I might have said, but let’s say, what I did sometimes say. Which was, enough of these adventures. Often in Panama, it was easy to feel like C-3PO talking to little R2-D2, off on some far-flung planetary system in the original Star Wars.

I’ve applied these same traits to life objectives, not just finding a given place to spend the night or a specific bus or Metro route. I’ve been called stubborn more times than I care to think of, and my response has always been, I am persistent, not stubborn. There is a difference, and I still feel strongly that I am positively persistent and not negatively stubborn.

I’m not judging anyone, but I think many people give up too easily on things. Maybe those things don’t mean enough to them to make it worth the effort, but giving up, like persistence, can too easily become a habit.

The other thing I’ve relearned about myself is how I can turn unexpected misfortune into useful purpose. My initial arrival in Panama was tainted by an unfortunate experience with the rental car company with which I’d reserved a car. Long story short, I wound up heading into the city to my AirBnB in an older, central part of the city, by Metro, not in the rental car I expected. People — not just on that expedition, but generally in Panama — were so kind and helpful. Among several, a 1o- or 11-year old boy directed me in ways his elders had not a clue, and a teenage girl took me under her wing at the station the boy correctly guided me to and got me turned in the right direction to find my destination.

But beyond that, that initial Metro experience gave me a working knowledge of the lines and where they went, which I later was able to put to use, both when I found myself unexpectedly ejected from a city bus in some distant barrio, and also when I finally did get a rental car a few days later. That knowledge helped me navigate the city, which is huge. In fact, getting to where I am tonight writing these words, it was my newly gained knowledge of the Metro and following a certain overhead line that finally got me here. Not to brag, but if I could find this place, I can find anywhere.

Along with the Metro, I’ve had to rely on solar navigation to determine direction, my inner ear to determine elevation, and the inertial guidance system I’ve always had in my brain, to fill in where the absence of signs left off. I’m one of those people who hate asking directions, often finding them less than helpful, but I’ve had to resort to it here.  My approach has been to narrow down the possible route or turn I consider the correct one, and then obtain confirmation of that. And that has worked well, better than just a general, “how do you get to such-and-such a place.” My Spanish isn’t superb, and this also helps avoid lengthy explanations where I go “si, si,” but don’t have a clue what they’re telling me.

Societal lessons relearned, too

Along with the personal lessons, I’ve relearned some societal lessons, too. This was less relearning than simply seeing things I already know and believe demonstrated in the reality.

Watching the degradation of some American cities, tolerating and permitting and even encouraging behavior incompatible with a civilized society, I have seen first-hand in Panama that things do not have to be that way. Again, returning to the Metro, the stations and trains are clean, orderly, and safe. There is no graffiti anywhere, and I suspect if anyone tried to paint any they’d be promptly subdued by the other riders, if not the police. Riding several lines at various times, I saw no violent or threatening behavior, no one being pushed in front of trains, no drunkenness or shoddy behavior. I did see people regularly giving up their seats for others to sit and being courteous to one another.

That said, I did see, even as I was thinking those thoughts, one panhandler carrying a baby on a train and seeking contributions, and somewhat to my surprise most people on the train handed over cash, in some cases quite generously. I was not one of them since I have a general rule against giving to panhandlers, and also the presence of the baby, which I witnessed too often during my time in Eastern Europe, strikes me as child exploitation. But this event did not strike me as commonplace, from my several observations.

Anyway, the point being that having orderly, workable cities is important to civilization, integral to a country and a society. While I don’t currently live in a city, the state of many American cities distresses me and is one reason for my desire to relocate overseas.

Panama, while relatively well off in Central American terms — I’ve now been in all six countries of Central America at least once, some a few times, and one, Honduras, I lived in briefly — is a poor country. There also appears to be a huge disparity in wealth. There is no shortage of new cars, trucks, and SUVs, often expensive ones, clogging the streets and roadways. No shortage of expensive, upscale housing. No shortage of pricey shops and boutiques. But rich or poor, I saw people having a good time, enjoying life, not frustrated with their status in life. I don’t like to fall into the “they are a happy people, they sing, they dance” mentality, and I’m not saying that, exactly. But they do seem to be a happy people, and this now being Carnival, they have been doing a lot of singing, dancing, squirting water, and setting off fireworks.

Carnival!

I got to drop in on one Carnival celebration, in the small town of Pedasi on the, hmmm, southeast tip of the Azuero Peninsula (I’ll explain the hmmm in a moment). It’s not the biggest Carnival celebration in the country, but very passable, and I met some young guys who had come all the way from Panama City, about four or more hours away especially considering the beastly holiday traffic on the highway, just for it. It was a lot of fun and people clearly were having a great time watching the amazing floats and getting squirted. Just a couple of the many photos I took of the celebration are here.

I learned some interesting things from those two guys, both of whom spoke good English. One is that the three languages most commonly taught in school are Spanish, English, and Mandarin. That last one surprised me, but apparently Panama has had a Chinese connection g0ing back almost a century and a quarter. There is a big monument, along with a Chinese gateway, in the scenic overview near the Bridge of the Americas.

Private schools also might teach Ancient Greek and I think Latin, and maybe French. But tuition in private schools in Panama challenge some college tuitions in the U.S. Just to enroll a student can cost $20,000. Clearly, private schools in Panama are meant for the children of the wealthy.

Now the Hmmm . . .

I keep forgetting that Panama runs mostly west-east, not north-south, as I am wont to think of it. So my north is really west, my south really east, my east really north, my west really south. The Pacific — which I did get a dip — is to the south, the Atlantic/Caribbean to the north. Costa Rica to the west, Colombia to the east. This has proven to be a source of continual confusion to me, though I’m starting to figure it out, just as I’m leaving. The solar navigation helps to a large extent, but even that can get confusing at times, for instance when heading south on the eastern side of the Azuera Peninsula, with the non-existent or, worse, non-helpful road signs. Like the one that gives the distance to Pedasi without any clue which of three ways one can turn at that intersection where it appears.

I began to get the feeling, by the time I was fighting my way back up the middle of the peninsula, that the attitude of the highway department is, hey, we gave you a damn road, and now you want to know where it goes?

BTW, that image above is of the Panama Canal and the Puente de las Americas (the Bridge of the Americas) over the Pacific entrance to the canal. No account of Panama would be complete without an image of the canal, so there it is. I’ve done my duty. Surprisingly, there doesn’t seem to be a lot of attention given to the canal by the local populance, especially considering its importance to the country’s economy, as well as the world’s economy. But I can say, Panama has been full of surprises, mostly good, many challenging, and my quest for determining where I’ll relocate to has not gotten any easier.

I have to return the rental car and catch a flight to Costa Rica in a few hours, so will have to post this from there. Adios, for now!

Post script. One would think it would be easy to locate the entrance to the airport, and to find the way to the correct terminal, of which there are only two, as huge as they are. One would think. An adventure right to the end. Were I a billionaire, which I’m not, and I lived in Panama, which I don’t, at least not now, I would dedicate a part of my wealth to putting decent signs around the country. If any Panama-based billionaires read this, there is my challenge to you.

Featured image, the Cafe Coca-Cola, the longest continuously running restaurant in Panama, since 1875.

The Panama City skyline, over the Pacific Ocean.

Carnival images, floats and Carnival queens, and people having a good time in Pedasi.

The Pacific end of the Panama Canal and the Puente de las Americas.

All photos by the author.

This piece also appears on my Substack, Issues That Matter. Comment, share, and subscribe, here, and there.