AT LONG LAST

        My dear readers, it has been quite a long while since my last post. I left you all in sunny Bocas del Torro,Panama, as I made my way back to Casco Viejo in Panama City.  After exploring that magical city during the Carnival, which, it now occurs to me, is a celebration stemming from the same tradition as the Madis Gras in New Orleans, I continued on the journey into Cartegena, Colombia.

So why did I leave you without telling you so much more about Boca, i.e., Starfish Beach, the unforgettable Yoga lesson on Isla Carenara, or the  farm on top of a two mile high hill on Isla Bastamente, where there were absolutely no cars?  The only way the farmer could bring his provisions in from town is first by water taxi and then by pack horse over a narrow and muddy path.  I climbed that muddy path on foot, swearing all the way up, but in the end it was worth it.  This particular farm and the farmer were seriously inspirational.  What he has already accomplished is the life I crave. 

I left off my writing because, as the old saying goes, “Into each life, a little rain must fall”.   The first ¨rain¨ fell in Panama, where some dental bridgework began to come loose.  It got much worse in Colombia, and by the time I reached Ecuador, it was a critical condition.  Try as I might, I could not get any dentist to respond to my emailed pleas for help.  Until Dr. Jose Acosta in Cuenca.  The news he delivered was devastating.  Much of the work I had had done just four years earlier was history to the tune of nearly $10,000.00.  Now, I would need three implants to boot.  So just that fast, my dreams of visiting Chili and possibly Argentina were dashed.  I would have to spend my traveling money on the necessary dental work.  But the good news:  I LOVED BEING IN CUENCA, ECUADOR, and it seemed that the special place for my farm, which I was beginning to think might never materialize, could very well be in Ecuador.  Surveying the landscape in and around Cuenca, I thought to myself, “Could it really and finally be true?”

 My dental work commenced with bone grafting (yuk!), but soon it was time to return to the States to take care of my taxes, visit my baby kitties, and some other business.   I wasn´t in the States very long when the ´”rain” returned in a torrential downpour.  That is, I slipped and fell in a friend´s bathroom, shattering my wrist.  And wouldn´t you know it….it required surgery!   In the midst of whole body shock and excruciating pain, my initial thought was, how would I ever manage the two suitcases of supplies I planned to carry back with me to Ecuador?

Soon after the surgery, the sun began to peek out from the stormy skies and my outlook brightened somewhat.  Thanks to all the very dear friends whose generous hospitality spiritually lifted me to a place which I know helped speed the healing.  I never had to spend one single night in a cold motel room.  The accident and ensuing surgery lengthened my stay in California nearly a month over what I had anticipated, but the time was well spent, since I was able to see and spend a lot of time with the people I care most about.  As my wise mother always said, ¨Behind every dark cloud is a silver lining¨.

Three days ago, I returned to Cuenca.  After traveling nearly 30 hours, I was exhausted to the point that when I opened my suitcase to get my nightgown, I didn´t notice that my computer was missing.  It didn´t register until the next evening when I began to come out of the nasty case of jet lag and decided I´d better check my emails.  My computer had been stolen en route somewhere between Los Angeles and Cuenca.  I have a theory about how it happened, and I´ll tell you about it here, so in case I´m right, you can avoid making the same mistake.

As my friend Roy was unloading my suitcase out of his car at the Airport Bus Terminal in Bakersfield, I noticed that the zipper was pulling apart in one small spot.  The case was packed tightly, and I could just picture it giving way entirely while en route, so I wrapped it the best I could with some twine.  I told the check-in agent at the LAN counter, LAX, my concerns over the zipper…and here´s where (I suspect) I made the fatal mistake…I also told him that my computer was in the suitcase and my fears of what would happen if it spilled out.

¨Not to worry¨, he said.  He even put a piece of white tape on top of the bag and wrote fragile on it.  ¨The twine is a good solution (it felt like a Beverly Hillbilly solution to me) and it should be just fine¨, he said.  Now I may be way out in left field, but it seems very possible to me that this agent communicated what he knew to the baggage handlers and the theft occurred right there.  Since I had a 6 hour layover before leaving LA, there was certainly time.  The white tape could have made the bag easier to identify as well. 

In retrospect, I noticed that one of the reasons I didn´t recognize the theft at first, was because my suitcase was in the same neat order in which I had packed it.   It was not ransacked and nothing else was taken, not even some very nice silver jewelry.   When I retrieved my luggage in Cuenca, the twine was no longer there and the suitcase was re-zipped shut, the two zippers tied together with a plastic tie right over the damaged place.  These observations didn´t alert me that anything might be amiss, it just looked like it had been inspected by the TSA, as it seems it most always is.   Well, this time it wasn´t, so travelers BEWARE!

Enough about that.  But you get the picture.  First my ability to communicate with my mouth is seriously compromised, then I lose the use of my left hand, and soon after that,  my right hand machine…my laptop!  At this point I am hoping that the rain will stop already!

Today, Saturday, is the first day I can walk without feeling jet lagged and every inch of the 6,250 ft. of altitude here in the grand city of Cuenca.  As I walk along, gratefully taking in all the lovely surroundings, I am certain that Ecuador is what I need and what I want.  The troubles I described above are absolutely nothing compared to the deep happiness I feel having come this far.

From the luscious butter cream avocados, to the plentiful passion fruit and carrots as big and round as a small woman´s forearm, this is a land of health.   What is better than clean air, crystal clear water, pure nutritious food, bright sunshine and bountiful rain?    This is the place where I can aspire to a happy and healthy old age.  If you are curious and want to experience this for yourself, and meet some of the sturdy, engaging and hardworking Ecuadorian people, please do come to visit.  Bring your work gloves, because although I fully intend to build my dream, I certainly won’t be able to do it myself.  I know it will be a labor of love, and that is best shared.  I remind myself that all things are possible, and how exciting that is.  I expect miracles.  COMING SOON:  ECUADOR ON A SHOESTRING BUDGET

Bocas Bonita

  

Falling asleep and waking up to the sound of the cascading surf is good for my soul.  It is good medicine, and if you are fortunate enough to have good health, I’m sure it is protective.  There is a feeling of contentment and peacefulness with every deep breath of the breezy ocean air.  I only came to Boca del Torres, or simply “Boca”, as the residents call it, because a cousin in Long Island was kind enough to refer me to some of her late husband’s family members who emigrated to Panama many years ago.  Otherwise, this place was not at all on my radar.  While researching, I formed the (mistaken) opinion that Boca would be your typical tourist spot, with high rise condominiums hogging the shoreline and cruise ships spotting the horizon like punctuation marks.  I imagined that luxury shops and boutiques would line the elegant avenues, traveled by throngs of well healed shoppers in designer sportswear.  For the record, Boca is nothing, nothing, nothing at all like that.  I would describe it as no show, and except for the ride that delivered me here, all slow.  Another reminder of just how often I can be absolutely wrong!

What I actually saw after about a half hour ride on a very fast and sea worthy little water taxi with a Yamaha outboard, was an island that flat out stole my heart.  It is already my third day here, and I’m afraid that the two weeks I have allotted myself will be an inadequate amount of time to soak in all the loveliness of Boca.   First off, there are tourists, but even though it is high season, they in no way overwhelm the residents.  Tourists and residents alike ride bicycles, walk, or take the island cabs to their destinations.  Sixty cent taxis will take you anywhere you want to go in town, but I find it much more pleasant to walk.  Although there are cars here, there are relatively few.  And unlike everyplace else I have traveled in Panama and Costa Rica, there are no noisy, city buses and huge tractor trucks belching black sooty exhaust to disturb the ambiance or sully the fresh sea air.

This time my “Lonely Planet” failed to guide me in finding a reasonably priced accommodation.  Because it was the beginning of the weekend and high season as well, all the recommended hostels were full, but I was relieved to find a vacancy in a non-reviewed hostel called “Coconuts” right on the town plaza.  It seemed unfortunate that all they had left were dorms, four people to a room with two bunk beds and a fan, period.  Luggage (or in most cases, back packs) are placed at the head or foot of your bed.  I had had only one other experience with a dorm early in my travels.  It will do in a pinch, but for only a few dollars more it is so much nicer to have your own private room and bath.  In this situation one bathroom with two unisex shower stalls served the whole floor of about 10 rooms.  And when I say “shower”, think cold water.  I have been really very lucky to find many hot showers in the places I’ve stayed, but in both Panamanian and Costa Rican hostels they are the exception rather than the norm.

This tiny dorm room was shared by me and two interesting women.  Mandy, about 40 years, had just finished a job as a crew member on a charter boat that had been sailing from and around San Blas Island in Panama.   Dutch, hailing from a town near Amsterdam, with a perfect golden tan and blond Nordic features, Mandy is beautiful and statuesque enough to be a model.  She, like me, had to take what lodgings she could find, and also like me, was able to find a more suitable place after only one night at Coconuts.

Mandy had decided to leave the conventional life to do something she really loved to do, and she soon found that she really loved being around boats.  She is tranquil and soft spoken, and as the saying goes, as beautiful on the inside as on the outside.  It so happened that we met up again just one day after we both left Coconuts.  Small Island!  She is friends with Curtis, an artist who lives next door to where I am now staying.  It was on his porch, overlooking the small “international” airport and a spot where the sun would have been setting had it been out that day, that we all three had a conversation where I was once more astounded in my great good luck at meeting these exceptional people!  

While on a tour of Curtis’ very cool stilt house and studio, I was totally blown away by the beauty of two surfboards he had sculpted out of fine wood.  My first thought was, I hope to God no one actually commits these museum quality pieces to the salt water!  He later assured me that they were, indeed, made for surfing.  Unbelievable.

The other woman who shared the room at Coconuts came from Colorado.  Kim, around 25 years old, works six months out of the year in the States to fund her stay in Boca for the other six months. We both agreed that Boca is a truly special place.  I had the impression that she had been traveling this way for a few years already.  Her love is cooking and she is now waiting to go to work and cook in a local restaurant.  When she has enough experience under her belt, she feels she will be able to work in any country, including the U.S., as a real chef.  Judging from her passion, it is certain to happen.  As I was leaving, she offered me a whiff of a proprietary blend of exotic spices that she carries so she can cook for her friends, which is easy to do in these hostels with shared kitchens and living spaces.  Even though the dorm style rooms have some real drawbacks (unisex showers for one!), you can readily see that hostel living offers great opportunities to meet fascinating people of all stripes.

In my next post, more on Boca del Toros and the local lifestyle.