Welcome to the Banana Republic

Panama is more than a little different than Cuba. Panama has a sky-line that puts Seattle to shame. I still haven't figured out why they need so many banks and hotels and casinos. Almost everyone speaks a little english and there's a US fast-food chain on every damn street corner.

I guess this is what you wind up with after a 100 years of US Colonialism. But I guess Panama does enjoy a relatively high standard of living compared to the rest of Latin America. But I don't know, I feel like I could just have stayed in the US and gotten this experience.

Oh well, once I get my Brazilian visa (hopefully tuesday!) I'm free to go off and explore some more of this country and get out of Panama City. The San Blas Islands off the Atlantic Coast sound like fun, and I don't head to Brazil until Feb 13, so I got a little time.

Sometimes things just work out, and other times…

I came to Panama pretty much without the inkling of a plan. Panama was actually just my Plan C. You see I needed proof of onward travel in order to enter Cuba, and I still needed to get a Brazilian visa. Panama City had a Brazilian Embassy and was the cheapest flight I could get leaving Cuba. So Panama it was.

I showed up at the airport and at the tourist booth I found a flier for a youth hostel. I had the nice Panamanian lady working behind the counter call them up and sure enough they had space for the night, and only $8 a night! At the line for the cabs I was able to find a Spanish woman who was heading in the same direction so we split a cab.

The next morning first thing I headed to the Brazilian embassy. My Spanish has improved to the point where I can understand most of the reply I get from a question like “where is the Brazilian embassy?” After walking in circles for a little bit the last person I asked just pointed to the Brazilian flag about a block away. In total only took ½ hour to walk the 4 blocks, which isn’t really that bad.

At the embassy the very helpful Brazilian representative assured me that a tourist visa would only take 24 hours, unless it was an emergency and then they could issue it the same day. That was so much better than the answer of “maybe two-weeks but come back tomorrow” I kept getting in Havana. She even had the direction for a place that would give me the Yellow Fever vaccine that I needed.

I was able to catch a cab to the health center without any problems. Within another ½ hour I had my vaccine and more importantly my International Certification of Vaccination. It only cost me $5, sorry Ellick they didn’t have anything for Dengue fever, I checked. I caught another cab and headed back to the youth hostel to figure out the tickets.

As I heading to the hostel I saw a place that was advertising free WiFi. Fantastic, I can finally use my own laptop! I hopped on Expedia and found what I still think is a great deal for tickets into Rio and out towards Buenos Aires. I even found a bittorrent of the Pimsleur Portuguese lessons I’d been looking for! Everything was going swimmingly!

And then I checked my e-mail. My 19 year old cousin has just been diagnosed with Stage IV Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. Her chemo-therapy is already scheduled.

Fuck.

I don’t remember the last time I prayed, but when I saw that message I asked God for mercy. I recited every bit of the Qu’ran I could still remember. They say there are no atheists in fox-holes, I suppose that applies to love ones in distress as well. So those of you out there reading this, do me a favor and say a prayer to the god of your choice, it can’t hurt. Her name is Sana Javeed and while she can try one’s patience at times, she’s really a sweet kid.

Cuba, a photgraphic retrospective

Final thoughts on Cuba

It’s only a matter of time. This can’t possibly continue. I’m amazed it’s lasted 47 years. But these days you actually hear people openly criticizing Fidel and the government. Everyone says things are getting really bad, even the tourists have stopped coming. There’s nothing propping up this failed experiment anymore, and as soon as Castro can’t pay for food and electricity, that will be it. I just hope the Venezuelans or the Chinese don’t get a foothold.

Al Pacino is a brilliant actor. I never imagined that he actually nailed that Cuban speaking English accent so perfectly in Scarface. Everytime Yanet asked me "Wha ju tawkin abou?" I wanted to duck because I thought maybe she’d bitch slap me at the dinner table.

I still can’t dance worth a god-damn. I didn’t stick to the lessons like I should have, but I can keep the rhythm now and trust me that’s progress. I think one day I’m actually going to put for the time and effort it takes to do this right. It sure seemed like everyone was having a lot of fun out there, and I did too, given enough rum.

I have no idea what language they actually speak in Cuba, but it definitely isn’t Spanish. I’ve taken to calling it Cubano, and everyone universally seems to acknowledge it’s got it’s own distinct flavor. I guess that’s one of the things that happens when you are isolated on an island, especially one that was closed of to the world for about 40 years.

When the revolution finally comes, and it will come, perhaps sooner than we can all imagine, it would be a great time to buy a small coastal island. Stay away from the cities, that’s where all the big money will go, and there’s so much investment that needs to be done there you’d be better of starting with a pristine piece of land.

I really started to enjoy smoking cigars. I can even occasionally get a smoke ring. If I didn’t know better I would think they’re addictive or something. Bill explained it to me this way, "learning to smoke cigars in Cuba, is like learning to drink wine in France" Great guess I can see that new vice starting up, well the good news is I haven’t had a cigarette in about two weeks!

I'm not 21 anymore but god-damn if I can't still pull a rock-star couple of weeks every once in a while. For the 15 days I was in Cuba I know I didn't get to bed before 2 AM any single night. And there were more than a few 4 in the morning stumbles back to the household (sorry Nancy and Angel for waking you up when I got home every night!) Towards the end I felt like I was coming down with something but I think I found the perfect mix of tobacco and rum to kill whatever virus was in my system.

Why does this keep happening to me?

Damn, it seems like I just went through this a couple weeks ago but here I am again. It’s time to say my goodbyes. Actually I’m basically the last one of our little group left. Kay and Pavani headed back to Australia, I wonder if their friendship is still intact. Yorst is back in Amsterdamn showing off all the moves he learned no doubt. Bill is back in the US but I suspect that won’t last too long.

But the hardest one is left, saying goodbye to Yanet. I gave her that book of Pablo Neruda poems in the original Spanish I picked up last year in Buenos Aires. She had told me earlier how much she loves his poetry, and of course she lives in Cuba so it’s not like she can buy a copy anywhere. I packed my bags as Yanet translated verses for me. I couldn’t imagine a more perfect scene.

In two short weeks we got to know each other far better than most people I’ve met. I think that’s something that just happens with relationships on vacation. Everything is in fast-forward. There’s so much less time to play games and you’re almost forced to open yourself when you can’t hide behind the nuance and subtlety of a shared language.

She’s still convinced I’m insane and at this point I’m inclined to agree with her. Trying to explain what I was doing with my life actually forced me to start looking at it with a critical eye. "So explain to me again why you quit a well-paying job that was pretty good to you and what you’re going to do next?" "Um…I want to find myself"

But she told me if that I need help realizing that plan of mine to sell juice down at the beach drop her a line. I told her I’d be waiting for her breakthrough single to hit the charts. She even finally sang to me like I’d been asking. Somehow I managed to avoid proposing to her on the spot, I’m still not sure why.

When we walked to that big yellow taxi the next day she told me that she doesn’t like to say goodbye. I struggled with my Spanish and said, "neither do I, but sometimes…" and like she likes to do, she finished my thought "there’s nothing else to say"