Panama City and Santa Catalina, Panama

Ash and I decided to head off to Panama City, to check out what everybody does when they go to Panama-- check out the Panama Canal. My initial first (and lasting) impressions of Panama City were 1) new buildings and construction EVERYFREAKINWHERE. Global financial crisis? Not here. 2) the noisy ass Diablos Rojos. Think of your old elementary school bus, add some random grafitti, an exhaust system you can hear a mile away, and a mad scientist at the helm and you pretty much have your basic bus transportation in Panama City.

From Panama City and Santa Catalina, Panama

3) There are ten million banks. Panama City is going places, ladies and gentlemen. I don't know if it has anything to do with the expansion of the Panama Canal, but there is a serious amount of foreign investment going on.

Anyway, Ash and I met up with Jenn (UK), and a couple, Reggie (Nebraska) and Clay (New Zealand) at the hostel to check out the Panama Canal for the day. It really was not as exciting as I thought it would be, but, there are just some things you have to see. Interesting thing about Clay-- he has been travelling and working for 14 freakin years! He works six months a year, then travels the other half. Truly an inspiration. After the canal, we all had dinner at a Chinese restaurant, and I actually had the chance to speak to the waitress in Cantonese and translate the Spanish menu in English to my fellow gringos. As as sidenote, I think Panama has the highest percentage of Chinese in South/Central America.

There was not much else to do in Panama City after a couple of days, and I felt like surfing again, so upon the recommendation of a few friends at the hostel, Ash and I decided to head out to Santa Catalina. Actually, how it all played out was that we woke up at 11am that day without a single clue where to go. Ash ended up talking to two Norwegian girls in their underwear for an hour or so, and was persuaded to check out Santa Catalina. The underwear, I am sure, had nothing to do with their credibility. Fair enough, we headed out anyway to find a totally secluded and sleepy beach town, with probably no more than 350 people living there. It was one of those places where the hotel manager also happens to be the waitress of the restaurant downstairs and oh yeah guess what she is the chef as well! Ok, slight exaggeration, but you get the drift. Hanging out in Santa Catalina for a few days was just what the doctor ordered, as Ash and I tried to make good on a week of sobriety, as well as a few good days of surfing.

One day, we went to "town" to eat, which really just meant where the bus stopped. The two public telephones also probably made it THE place to hang. Anyway, the first restaurant was closed, so we strolled down a few paces to another restaurant. I asked if the place was open, and the lady said yes. I asked if they were serving any food, and the lady looked at her husband (?) and the husband looked back at her, gave each other a weird hesitant look, and the lady told me, "Sorry, we do not have any food but there is another place down the street you can check out." I am absolutely convinced they just did not feel like getting up to work and cook. Such is life here in Santa Catalina...

Given the spontaneity in our decision to head to Santa Catalina, we overlooked the fact that there were no ATMs there. Because of that, Ash and I really had to conserve our cash. Our last night there, we had exactly $11 between us. At the restaurant, we saw that the cheapest meal was $6 for a plate of pasta. That meant we would only be able to have one plate and an appetizer or two between the two of us. I told Ash to check the hotel room for any leftover change he may have and he said, "I only have about 25 cents I think..." I told him to go and check anyway because, well, desperate times call for desperate measures. He came back a few minutes later with a huge grin, and proudly proclaimed he had $1.40 in change. SCORE!! That meant we could both order a plate of pasta, the highlight of my day. As I counted up the change to double check, I dropped a few coins on the floor. I freaked out for awhile as I practically went down on all fours searching for our precious pennies. It was good to remind ourselves the value of a few cents, as it literally meant the difference between one plate of pasta or two!

Craziness in Puerto Viejo, Costa Rica and Bocas Del Toro, Panama

From Panama City and Santa Catalina, Panama

If there is one thing I am certain of on May 5th, 2009, it is that I WILL miss my scheduled flight back home. My round the world ticket expires that day since I have one year to use up all the flight segments, but I am pretty sure I can scramble up enough cash to get a one way ticket back home if and when I am ready. I know you guys are all disappointed to hear I will not be back home for Cinco De Mayo, but the fact is, I am simply not ready to go home. I still have enough cash to float me for another month or so and if I pick up a bartending gig somewhere I can continue living my dream! (And, believe it or not, I still think I have a shot at winning Shakira's heart!)

I arrived into San Jose, Costa Rica in the evening of April 6th, and got a nice verbal reprimand from the immigration official about the lack of space to stamp on my passport. I went to the US Embassy the following day to add more visa pages-- and I could not help but smile on my way out that I filled up all my pages already.

I only spent one full day in San Jose, as there was not much to see. I decided to check out Puerto Viejo on the Caribbean coast for Semana Santa (Easter Weekend) on the recommendation of a few friends. On my way out of the hostel in San Jose, two girls from Sweden, Nina and Johanna, asked me where I was going and I told them Puerto Viejo. They said they were going that way too and asked me if I wanted to join them. Umm... sure!

We ended up staying at a place called Rockin J's, right on the beach outfitted with nothing but hammocks and tents. There were no tents available that day so Johanna, Nina and I took the few remaining hammocks left. I had never slept in a hammock overnight before, but I figured I'd give it a go. Besides, with enough beer and booze, I can sleep through anything! I had the worst hammock in the house, though, as it was literally in front of the main entrance to the 50+ other hammocks in the room. I knew right then and there I would need to get piss drunk to get through the night. And piss drunk did I get! Unfortunately, one of the casualties of that night was that my brand new camera that I bought after getting mugged in Ecuador (not one week earlier) got stolen! I was chattin it up with my friends and had my camera on the table right next to me. Not one minute later I noticed it was gone. Just. Like. That. I am convinced a rather stealthy flying mini midget was the culprit because there is no other possible explanation for its disappearance.

Throughout this trip, one of my goals was to learn how to surf once I got to Central America. After all, I got tired of telling people I was 33 years old, from Santa Monica, California who not only did not lunch with Angelina Jolie on a weekly basis, but also that I did not know how to surf. On my second day in Puerto Viejo, I rented a surfboard and happy to report I was able to get up on the board (albeit only for a heavenly 3.8 seconds) that same day! It was tiring as heck though, just trying to paddle out through all the whitewash and drinking/snorting all that saltwater.... but totally worth it. Plus, I think my sinuses have never felt better.

One of the things about Central and South America is that 99.99 percent of the toilets are not equipped to swallow up toilet paper. Water typically flushes at the rate of about 1 ounce per hour, if you are lucky. Keep this in mind as I am about to tell you something that will probably gross you out, but worth telling. So for those of you afraid or squeamish about poop stories, skip this paragraph...

It was early in the morning, and I had to hit the can but there was a lineup outside one of the bathrooms. I went to another bathroom and saw that one was completely backed up. I checked another one and there it was, the mother of all turds just sitting in the toilet there, trying so desperately to go to its proper home down under. However, the size of this thing simply prevented it from going down. It was without a doubt the biggest turd I have ever seen in my entire life and I wondered outloud what kind of person (or beastly animal?) could possibly squeeze that freakin machaca burrito out. Needless to say, I really had no time to delay anymore.... so, yes, I went ahead and did my business in the burrito toilet. The whole time I kept hoping that there would not be any backsplash or collateral damage, and luckily I escaped unscathed, though mentally traumatized. As I was getting ready to leave the stall, I thought to myself, with my luck, some hottie chick will be waiting right outside and will need to use my stall. Sure enough, fate did not disappoint. I warned her not to go in, and thankfully, she heeded my advice. Ok enough poop stories for now.

I met some very cool and interesting people in Puerto Viejo, including a Ashley, an Aussie who quit his job as a banker in Hong Kong. Like me, he is doing an around-the-world trip on pretty much the same itinerary as me, except in reverse. As I mentioned before, I had the worse hammock in the house, and when I checked in that day, I said to him, "Looks like you got the second worst hammock here..." He agreed, and I said, "We're going to have to get wasted tonight." And the rest, as they say, was history. Actually one night, we got completely smashed but it was raining like mad so most of us decided to hang out and crash out for the night. I got into my hammock, and was pretty much ready to pass out when I heard Ash yell out loud, "I can't sleep, the guy next to me keeps crashing into my hammock!" I took one look over at him and shouted back to him, "Dude, YOU are the one crashing into the guy!" I was just about ready to pass out again when I heard him mumble outloud, "I am heading into town, and I am going to get arrested!" Unfortunately, he did not succeed in the latter, nor did he succeed in doing anything really the following day. He ended up lying in his hammock all day. This is what he missed out on...

From Puerto Viejo, Costa Rica and Bocas Del Toro, Panama

We also met up with a serious party wrecking crew aka Team Canada-- three awesome chicks from Ontario. Ashley had actually met them in Miami, and they somehow found their way to Rockin Js in Costa Rica as well. These three crazy girls reminded me of my old buddies back home, but the female version. Some really classic lines came from them, which I will detail later in my upcoming post, "Memorable Quotes from this Trip."

After a booze-fueled weekend, Nina, Johanna, Wannes and I decided to hop over to Bocas Del Toro. Eric, the chef from the Rockin Js hostel decided to join us as well. Not a bad travel buddy to have around!

Bocas del Toro, Panama was a short 3 hour bus ride from Puerto Viejo, Costa Rica. We crossed the border at Sixaola, one of the most memorable and interesting border crossings I have ever come across. Basically, we got dropped off on the Costa Rican side of the border, and then we had to walk across this rickety old wooden bridge. If you weren't careful, you could easily step into a gaping hole and probably even fall through!

We spent about a week in Bocas, pretty much just partyin', surfin' and hangin' out..... although that should not be a surprise to anyone reading this. When my head clears up a little more, I will detail a few more stories... but for the time being, here are some pics that I uploaded from my friends' cameras.

Back to the good ole U S of A....(for just a few hours)

I arrived into Miami for a six-layover enroute to Costa Rica from Ecuador, and it was really exciting to step foot on American soil again. I felt strange trying to answer the question on the US Customs Declaration, "Countries Visited Prior to US Arrival" so I put down, "Ecuador and 25+ other countries." The US Immigration Official asked me what the hell was I doing in Ecuador, and I told him, "I stayed on the beach for six bucks a day!" He immediately shouted over to his colleague, "Hey Ed, we gotta go to Ecuador, man!" I sure hope so... Part of the reason why I share so many stories with you all through this blog is not just to tell you guys what I am doing, but also to encourage you to really seek out your own travel adventures instead of wasting your money on other things.

Being stuck at Miami International Airport {2008 TSA Airport of the Year, whatever that means!} for such a long time meant I had some time to kill. It was nice to see a Starbucks between every other check-in counter again, {not} as well as all the familiar shops and sights one would not have seen in over 11 months of being away. It was a tough choice trying to figure out what I wanted to eat, Taco Bell or Chili's? Unfortunately, there were no Mexican Pizzas at Taco Bell, and besides, I really wanted my baby back, baby back, baby back {Chillliiiiiiiiiiiis} baby back ribs!

I mosied on over to the bookstore, and when I went to the cashier {and despite not having said a single word to him prior to} the guy told me, "Dieciseis y cinco centavos por favor...." {$16.05, please} After having travelled through South America for the past four months, I thought to myself, have I gone native as well? I AM still Chinese, right?????!!!

I also had some time to think about what I do miss about the US....

1} Being able to flush toilet paper down the toilet. For those of you who have never experienced trying to stuff your crappy toilet paper down a crappy toilet paper filled bucket next to the toilet with your right hand while squatting and trying to keep your shorts from falling onto the piss-covered floor with your left hand, the simple joy of being able to simply crap, wipe and drop without worrying about blocking up the plumbing and causing a fecal flood was an absolute joy. So much so, in fact, that I decided to take a dump three times just for the sake of it. I told you, I had six hours to kill! Ok fine, the food from the night before didn't hurt, either.

2} Having the server at Chilis {I want my baby back baby back..... alright, enough already} ask me if everything was alright after my first bite. Ah, yes, I almost forgot, people actually WORK for tips in the US, as opposed to the rest of the world, where they either do not work for tips, or simply just add 10% to the bill and do absolutely nothing to earn it.

3} Free and safe tap water at restaurants. Asking for tap water in South America is like asking for diarhea. No, wait, it IS asking for diarhea.

I also had some time to think about what I do not miss about the US...

1} How everybody waiting for their flights at the airport is working. Working on their laptops, typing an email, writing a presentation or yapping on their cell phones about this that and the other. In most South American bus stations, mostly, you just see women breastfeeding their babies and guys taking a nap. Yeah, that's pretty much it.

2} Spoiled rotten kids who absolutely own their parents. I was watching a little boy, not more than 5 years old, boss his mom around like no other, for something to eat and drink. The mom obliged, of course. Just the other day when I was in Ecuador at a restaurant I was eating in, the mother {chef} smacked her son {not more than 7 years old} upside the head for slackin off and not taking the bowl of soup to one of the customers. I wonder, who will work harder later in life? And yet some of us have the nerve to complain {quite publicly} that American jobs are being taken away by immigrants. Sorry, Mom, your little sweet unemployed Johnny just got outhustled by Paco.

3} The crappy American Airlines airport lounge. Ok, I know this is all going to sound really lame but really, just ONE drink ticket???? And nothing to eat but some fruits and nuts???? I GOT SIX HOURS HERE!!!!!

Getting mugged in Ecuador and other highlights

Well, I finally got to cross off another thing off my List of Things To Do On This Trip -- I finally got mugged! It was bound to happen, and frankly, I think my dumb luck was running out anyway. I am not really that bummed about it, actually, because I really expected it to occur sooner than later. Actually, I am more surprised it didn't happen in Brasil...

It was Saturday night, and a few of us from the hostel went out to celebrate my friend Maria's (Venezuela) 21st birthday. After getting tanked, I decided to walk back to my hostel alone (bad move) and not two blocks away from my hostel, amidst a crowd of people in the streets, a couple of dudes knocked me down (or did I fall down on my own volition?) and a woman (for crissakes!) snatched my camera from my pocket. The other two dudes took off in different directions, and I chased after the woman. The little shorty had some wheels, even with my alcohol-fueled afterburners, I could barely keep pace with her. I finally almost caught up to her when I suddenly tripped and fell pretty damn hard. I yelled for the people around me to help, "Socorro, ayudame, ella me robó mi cámara!!!" and to stop her but everybody just kind of did nothing, sadly. If this happened in the US, I am sure somebody would have knocked her down, but this was Quito, where a homeless man apparently gets more attention than a tourist being robbed. I eventually gave up, as I saw her pitch the camera down the street to three other guys who all ran in separate directions. This was something they had rehearsed and done before, clearly. Anyway, a police patrol showed up ten minutes (where are they when you need them?) later while I was still trying to catch my breath. We patrolled the streets for a bit, but to no avail. They took me back to the hostel and the first thing Santiago (one of the hostel employees) did after taking one look at me was pour me a large glass of whiskey, which I downed right away, and promptly passed out....

Quito, and especially the touristy area where I was staying in (La Mariscal) is notorious for robberies like the one I experienced. In fact, the very next day, I witnessed another gringo get his wallet stolen on a crowded bus. Five teenagers hopped on the bus and proceeded to squirm and squeeze past everybody rather awkwardly. I was immediately suspicious and kept my hands in my pockets the entire time. On the very next stop, they hopped off and the poor gringo yelled out to his girlfriend that his wallet was stolen. I saw that his right front pocket was slashed open. The kids took off in different directions and sadly, there was nothing he could do, either. Later that night, I went to a bar one block away with two of my buddies from the hostel, and surprise surprise, they got mugged by knifepoint. I left back to the hostel not five minutes earlier...

Enough bad news... Anyway, as many of you know, I have become a fan of football (ahem, soccer, for you Americans) and luckily, Brasil was in town to play Ecuador for one of the qualifying matches for the 2010 World Cup. Tickets were sold out, but I paid 30 bucks (face value $15) for a ticket to see them play. Given I had spent over six fun-filled weeks in Brasil, and that I had only spent one night in Ecuador and got mugged, it was a no-brainer as to who I was rooting for. I did not make that obvious to the 40,000 fans around me, of course, lest I be mugged and beaten to a ceviche pulp. Brasil ended up playing horribly, and luckily came out with a 1-1 tie. One of the funny things about being at the game was that after every time the announcer stated the Brasilian players' names and numbers, it was followed by 40,000 people chanting in unison, "Hijo de puta!" (Son of a bitch/whore) What made it uniquely interesting is that a) this would never happen in the US, unfortunately and b) the announcer, in a tacit agreement with the crowd, would wait for the crowd to finish the chant before announcing the next players name and number.

I went to check out "La Mitad Del Mundo," a city aptly named Middle of the World due to its latitude of 0 degrees. I spent two hours by bus getting there, and paid two bucks to check out the relatively boring monument, and as with all touristy sites, was a bit disappointed. However, I had lunch at a restaurant nearby and after I finished, the owner asked me where I was headed. I told him back to Quito, and he offered me a ride back! We chatted a bit about this that and the other, and his 11-year old daughter, Ana Camacho, proudly proclaimed that she would one day beat Venus Williams. I'm rootin' for ya, kiddo... I always like hearing about kids' dreams because it is always refreshing to hear their completely honest belief in what it is they want to do later in life. Chasing dreams-- shouldn't we all do that?

Given that Quito's weather was rainy and cold, and going out at night just didn't seem to be a good idea, I decided to head north to the beach again, to Mompiche and Canoa. I took the bus, thinking I was headed towards Mompiche, but, strangely enough, ended up in Canoa! Canoa is a sleepy little beach town, and extremely cheap. It only cost me $6 for my own room and bathroom right by the ocean, and about $2 for lunch. Strangely enough, a double espresso costs the same as a single at my hotel. Go figure!

I spent four days in Canoa, doing nothing but sleep, eat, read, (No Country For Old Men, en Español...it's taking me forever!!!) and go bodyboarding all day until the sunset. Life is tough!

On my bus ride back to Quito, and during one of the frequent rest stops, I left my book on my seat, only to find it gone when I came back from the john. Just as I was really getting into the book, it gets nicked. I decided I had enough of Ecuador for the time being, and reserved my next flight out to Costa Rica!