Panama Real Estate Investment Travel Information


Walking in my shoes (or flip flops as they provide more ventilation)

(2 votes)

Written by Matt Landau

Friday, February 03 2006

I wake up and wipe the crusties from the corners of my eyes. (Yes, men of international mystery have morning eye-crust as well). Unlike those frigid school days in Jersey when the overnight snowfall would peer-pressure me to sleep in, here in Panama the 80� sunshine calls me out to play. After some good hygiene skills I put on a comfortable shirt, some mesh shorts, a fast pair of running sneakers, and head out for my morning exercise.

I pull out my iPod and switch on some bumbling tunes for the walk over to the gym. For those few minutes every morning, I'm in my own world—soundtrack and all. I pass by orchestrated traffic jams, perfectly conducted bird flights, and around the occasional territorial gardener. I walk under the shade of tropical flowering trees and through the light mist of errant water sprinklers all with that upbeat bass line spring to my step.

My gym, Sport Tec Center is a fitness space-ship. To enter I bypass a muscular girl in smurf-blue spandex and secretly punch in my personal 6 digit ID number. Next, I set my hand on a laser sensor which then accepts or rejects my entry—Area 52 style. My Millennium Falcon treadmill is equipped with plasma TV, high-speed fans for cooling, and a view out into Panama's great green unknown. I usually leave the Sport Tec galaxy feeling like an able-bodied android although I've only exercised for about 20 minutes. It's great.

I usually stop for an icy glass of watermelon juice at my favorite café on my way home. After a refreshing shower I get ready for work. Sometimes I'll work at the offices but today, I'll walk a block to the internet café: a fresh sparkling lemonade, a giant palm tree as shade, and happy fingers, ready to write.

Some say the crossroads of the new world is Panama. I say more specifically, it's at the corner of Via Veneto and Via Espana. I see this bizarre yet motivating melting pot of cultures, of languages, and of socioeconomic levels. Polished bankers in trendy Hugo Boss suits stand in lines along side indigenous Kuna Indians wearing traditional hand-made garb. It's crazy! School children, taxi drivers, business men on lunch breaks side by side. From the first time I met my neighborhood, I could feel its heartbeat. It's this thumping, rousing heartbeat and without any effort, I am somehow part of it.

In the evening, choosing where to go to dinner is a daunting task—just because there are so many great options. Though I am a self-admitted super foodie, I almost never cook in my apartment--just because the food in restaurants is so cheap. The majority of the food is great, the majority of the food is cheap and the weather at night is always perfect. The night scene in Panama City is super diverse and whether I'm trying out a new open-air eatery or hitting up one of my usual favorites, I'm destined to have a good meal. The European influence in the city oozes at night, pushing dinners and bedtimes back a few hours. However, the longer I stay out, the more tired I am the next day when I have to wake up and do it all again.

Days here aren't too tough. Sure there's the occasional water-outage or bad hair day, but overall, I live in paradise. I love waking up and smelling the tropical air. I love doing automated workouts. I love walking to work. I love doing my work. I love going out at night. And I love looking forward to the next day. I'm on a big long vacation down here and now that you've been for a walk in my shoes—you can't complain either. Although, I have been told I have unusually high arches.

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Comments (3)

sutton47: Walking etc.etc.

Where do I sign up? I envisage my first visit for May/June to look at buying a property for retirement(I'm already retired to Belgium and we just had 5 inches of snow this morning!)I really am enthralled by the prospect, but my brain begins to hurt with so much advice and so much choice.My laptop is on Panama by default.

March 04, 2008

Madre Una niRiain: seasons, snow, fog, and...

oh, snow... a magical word... and seasons... how else does one celebrate the equinoxes and the solstices if one's DNA screams beltane and samhein?

i'll gladly trade panama for belgium any day...

what i'll miss if we EVER get out of here:
1. the fabulous health care with md's who are people not MDeities and assholes

2. this includes dentists and

3. veterinarians who make house calls

nope, i'm not one for it's just another day of sweat, swelter,heat, humidity, plantains, horrid homophobia, rampant tedious machismo (passed from mothers to sons and culture...or so a peruvian woman tells me), gross injustice against panama's first peoples, episcopanglican church's horrid liturgy-hymnody-theology-with a bishop and priests who eat endangered turtle, too few jesuits and only at a school in panama city, no Good Vibrations' selection of toys, a country without decent lube.. i realise we live in an hideously ugly, unattractive, terminally noisy evil company town with streets filled with pools of dengue and god only knows what else puddles from the trucks. BAD salad produce is three and a half hours a way and i've yet to see bordeaux, eros, space, frisee, radicchio, endive, escarole,chiogga, pizzo, collards, mustard, turnips, cress (speaking of which, where is high tea with harp music?), vit, sorrel, arrugola,mache, mizuna, escarole, mesclun, tango, etc....

a life without flowering plants that smell?
no spring dogwood, redbud, daffodils, hyacinth

there are no irish pubs, no cellis, no irish pipes, no scottish pipes, no irish music. no gaelic spoken here...

no pete's coffee. no great teas in real tea pots. make your own teapot cozy, try to find organic milk. try to find milk that goes in the cooler and not on the shelf with the life expectancy of the plastic on the roadsides.

no recycling here either

the idea of sushi here is really scary. so does meat anything after seeing beef carcass on a water taxi still lying there an hour later, covered in flies...

no, i'm not made for this version of paradise. i prefer san francisco, derry, dublin, kerry, iona, corrymeela, santa fe,new york city, glasgow, belfast, london, cornwall, wales, british columbia, anywhere canada actually, florence, paris, and OH YES amsterdam!!, rotterdam, holland!!!!!! ... i'd rather not return to the us...being an expat and not fitting in anywhere is an interesting liminal space...

i miss the BBC and NPR

i miss Martunis and the Castro... and great haircuts and amazing hair colour and hair that doesn't fall in this heat... i miss buying and wearing awesomely beautiful shoes. i miss boots and cashmere, knitting, knitting shops, and the local Stitch n Bitch... i miss leather and latex, opera, symphony, ballet, dance.. i especially miss santa fe opera openings and off-off broadway...

i miss Nature and country without fear of snakes, spiders, and plants that grab you and hold on... i miss frost on the window panes and starched sheets frozen perfectly for ironing. i miss organic groceries and co-ops, goats' milk soaps, and shea butter, high thread count sheets onsale, gypsy moon, FLAX, and the BBC...

i miss Jesuits, Franciscans, silent retreats, Ignatian exercises, civil disobedience, Good Friday at Livermore or The Nevada Test Site, codepink, Mennonites, Quakers, liberal theology, feminist theologians, womanchurch, gaychurch, convent/monastery retreat houses, SF's gay jesuit church, the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, women's retreats, and pet stores that cater to cats... i miss Wysong and good cat litter and the acupuncture/homeopathy/herbalist lesbian vet... i really miss lesbians, bisexuals, transgendered, and out gay clergy. i miss UCC's and UU's and swedenborgians. i even miss michael lerner for x's sakes! i really miss tikkun and NICWJ and the GTU and EDS, st john the divine, carter hayward, robert cromey, rusty clyma, and most of all, i miss my best friend michelley

i miss la perla and oroblu microfiber and nordstroms and bergdorfs and fiestaware and barneys and louis weil.... i miss laci's and making corsets and tatting bobbins... i miss FILM!!!! and barq's rootbeer and dr pepper and new orleans's chicory coffee and beignets... i miss the San Francisco Columbarium and Mr Emmit.

i miss sailing in winter and pinon fires..and fireplaces...and changes in the weather. i miss sunrises and sunsets and lengthening shadows and the "fingers of god."

i miss lavender and aromatherapy and LUSH, Dr Haushka, and M.A.C. and Janet Sartin and acupuncture...

March 24, 2008

tejano: ...