Bushwhacking Bocas and Vow Renewal; December 2016 Panama Travel Blog #4; To Aunt Gerry

My eyes opened to a grey sky.  Rain was playing with the metal roof and the sound was both comforting and disappointing.  What would we do with a rainy day?  After breakfast with Raine, Carlos, Joel, Vicky, Kitty Girl and Oliver, we lingered over coffee and decided to take the bus over to Drago Beach on the mainland-facing side of the island.  Carlos had said that Starfish Beach, a short hike from Drago Beach, was a nice place to spend some time with a view of the Panama mainland and the mountains of the continental divide.

The rain stopped and it looked as if the sun was making an effort.  We walked a short distance from the casa to the local stop and waited for the bus.    It was a national holiday, some sort of independence from something or other, and the buses ran frequently.  We sat for about 20 minutes on a broken and rotting wood bench completed with a tin canopy overhang and tried to avoid staring at the soppy garbage on the ground around us.  Panamanians were not keepers of the environment and trash on the roadside is a common occurrence.   The rain started up again and we distracted ourselves by watching an army of ants carrying off with a dead bee.  The teamwork amazed me and I tried not to think about analogies I could apply against the current political climate.  The bus came.  We got on.

We were the only gringos on the bus and it clearly was a domain of the locals intent on enjoying their holiday.  The ride was about 20 minutes through the interior of the island and I was surprised at the deeply wooded rolling hills, the cattle farms, the settlements and the abundance of roadside stands.  Eventually the paved road ended and the bus took a sharp left along a sandy road parallel to the beach.   We came to a restaurant and beach area where water taxis were busy with passengers coming and going from neighboring islands, other beaches and locations we were not aware of.   We patronized the restaurant Yaris Nori as Carlos told us they would accommodate any food preparation we needed and the owner spoke some English.   A whole red snapper wonderfully poached with garlic and butter, dirty rice with beans and green salad set us back about $21.00, a price that was more than reasonable for the meal.    We lingered a bit chatting up a Spaniard and his Panamanian girlfriend who was eager to know more about how Trump was going to block international trade, deport all foreigners, build the wall and forbid imports from China.  What would our country become?  Interesting to learn that he had left Spain for Panama some years back because the Spanish government was not to be trusted.  Ah, well… we were in sympathetic company.

Bay along the jungle path

A moderate hike through a jungle path along the beach line provided breathtaking ocean vistas, verdant foliage and brought us to Starfish Beach.  This was where all the Panamanians on the buses were headed for the day.  A beautiful long series of beaches with numerous bars and restaurants, boats tied up at the shoreline, music blasting everywhere.  The water was clear, flat and tepid and the views of the mainland and surrounding topography framed the idyllic setting.  We sat on the beach for a while, waded in the water for a bit and noticed lobsters in traps waiting to become someone’s dinner.  However, we had a timeline to keep and were mindful of getting back to the casa to prepare for our vow renewal at Paki Point later that afternoon.

Starfish Beach

We found a water taxi with a willing, and somewhat sober, driver to run us back over to the bus terminal.  The $3 was worth the short ride versus a 30 minute walk back along the jungle trail.  The bus terminal has any number of vans and small buses awaiting the party goers ready to return to their villages to sleep off the day of celebrating and we were waved into vacant seats.   I asked if the bus would stop at Big Creek, the area where our casa was located.  The response was rapid fire Spanish with a hand gesture that looked to be describing a ‘Y’ in the road.  That was close enough.  Mental note, study more Spanish.  The doors closed, the music cranked up to top volume because apparently the engine doesn’t work otherwise and the bus went forth.

Back at the casa we prepared for our visit to Paki Point and a renewal of our wedding vows.  I had no idea what I was going to say and I was a bit concerned that Bryant would either be sappy or cheeky.  I put on a white cotton v-neck dress with a bottom ruffle and Bryant wore a white T-shirt covered with big flowers and our outfits were finished off with flip flops.  Raine snipped a few flowers from the garden as we went out the front gate for the ceremonial boquet and she stuck a hibiscus behind my ear.  Joel and Vicki had dressed in their finest beachwear and went on ahead intent on meeting us at the point.   We climbed into the waiting van and a few minutes down the road the driver was waived over by Joel.  They were not successful in finding a taxi and were attempting to walk to the point, about 2 miles from the casa.   

Paki Point was really the perfect spot to be with friends and without any concerns.  The vibe is very laid back and the focus is on the beach and water activities.  Just a few others were there enjoying their food and drink and watching a group of very young surfers navigate the waves.  Paki Point was known for consistent size surf and the point attracted surfers young and old from everywhere.  We took over an area on the deck with lounging couches and ordered our first round of drinks.  It would take at least that for me to figure out what I was going to say to the man that anchored the last 25 married years of my life.   The sun was setting and Carlos was voluntold to take the pictures.  He did a great job without much direction.  Bryant and I put our drinks down, stood up, faced one another and held hands.  He said his stuff first.

What came forth was heartfelt prose, meaningful and beautiful.  I tried my best to not cry.  Definitely the good times far outweighed the trying times we had experienced together.  Then it was my turn.  Bryant’s piece was hard to follow but Raine and Vicki nodded their approvals.  It was done and we looked forward to the next 25 years.  The sun was setting and the bar was closing up.  We took the revelry back to the casa.

Leftover turkey can be prepared many ways.  When on an island, one takes advantage of what is offered and convenient in the pantry.  Flamenco music enhances the flavor of anything so Raine produced music from her tablet via bluetooth to the ranch house speakers and the Reposado we had purchased a few days prior was poured.    I chopped up the turkey and added raisins, celery, onion and  whatever else was in view.  Raine stirred up dirty rice and beans and Vicki was assisting.  The three of us were having a ball dancing, chopping, cooking, singing and just being silly.  I discovered that Raine could dance!  The girl has rhythm!  Turns out her mother was something of a dance instructor and Raine had also danced during her youth with people of color, greatly influencing her style.  She was a granny with grace and sensuality behaving as a giddy girl and her laughter was contagious.  In the morning, Carlos told us that he had not seen Raine in that mode for quite some time and thanked us for helping her to relax and have fun. 

The party went on until 9:30P when Oliver began staring into Vicki’s eyes with a clear sign he was done.  Oliver has a very distinctive and distinguished look.  His eyes are always bedroom sleepy or dreamy depending on how you want to define it, his ears are slightly lopsided on his head and he uses his expressive face to his benefit.   Vicki took Oliver up to their casita and the party began to wind down.  It was a perfect end to a perfect day.