The Land Of Good And Plenty......

Every time we go back to the US we're just amazed at the endless aisles of boxed foods in the groceries stores. Frozen meals pretending to be healthy, loaded with salt, sugar and preservatives that Clyde and I ate for years.  The endless choices of cookies, candy, ice creams, snacks and more that seduce us into buying them and stuffing our faces.  I counted twenty-four linear feet of cake, cookie and brownie mixes along with frosting in one store.  The quicker way to bake someone happy, with little effort and lots of ingredients that we can't even pronounce on the labels.  Huge restaurant buffets every where we looked offering cheap, all you can eat hog-like portions of food.

Living in Panama we don't realize how little choice we have when we shop for groceries.  Don't get me wrong there are plenty of choices of groceries, just not nearly as many as in US stores.  Our stores here have a four foot section of cake mixes because most of the locals make desserts from scratch.  Cookies, candies, chips all are here too but with many less choices than the states too.

But while visiting the Land Of Plenty we had to indulge a bit and take advantage of the things we don't get to eat here, like Tex-Mex food.  For the first few days we stuffed our faces with every taco, tortilla, enchiladas, burrito, chips and salsa or whatever else was on the menu of the restaurants. And since some of the wait staff didn't speak English too well, we surprised them by speaking to them in Spanish.  It actually felt comforting to hear Spanish being spoken since it felt like home, and my ears just seemed to focus in anytime I heard it. The first place we hit was Taco Palenque, just a few minutes outside of San Antonio Airport.  Signs in Spanish lined the walls and it was comforting to recognize the words, as if they were in English. And a few days ago here we discovered that "taco" refers to more than just a flat bread eaten in Mexican cuisine.  Clyde went to buy brake pads for our car and asked for "frenos" which is brakes and the girl behind the counter asked if he wanted "tacos" too.  At least he didn't say, "no thanks, I'm not hungry."  So now we know that "taco" is Spanish means "pad" along with a few other things too.

After we had our fill of Mexican food and loads of free chips with various toppings, we headed toward Austin to visit Clyde's daughter Christy and her husband Jerry.  She had planned for our arrival with delishly seasoned ribs with an array of spices that made them finger lickin' good.  Along with that was some zucchini, guacamole and salsa along with some tantalizing desserts.  After a long day of travel we decided to find a hotel room in Austin where we could crash for the evening. We literally fell into bed as soon as we made our way to the room.  Early the next morning I woke up well rested and we found our way to the hotel gym for some much needed workout time before heading out to Corpus Christi.

We found ourselves driving around Corpus sometime in the afternoon wondering who to call or what to do since everyone we knew was working.  In Panama this doesn't pose a problem since most of our friends here are also retired. Eventually we made our way out to the town of Ingleside where we'd spend the next week at the home of Andrea and Ronny.  Their large five bedroom, three bathroom home is quite inviting to guests, since they both like to entertain.  Their tranquil, spacious, beautifully landscaped backyard seduced us in to taking a dip in their private pool.  And just like last year they encouraged us to make their house our own, where we could let it all hang out in any way we chose.

The week flew by fast as we kept busy visiting with family and friends. We picked up my grandson Vash for some shopping, mini golf, and swimming before sending him home to Mama.  But since he's such a picky eater, I felt bad that I couldn't sugar him up and send him home, like many grandparents do.  One day I offered him a yummy, chocolate covered graham cracker which he looked at and said, "it's square," and refused to eat any. Another day we went for ice cream and he ate just a few spoonfuls before rejecting the rest because the chocolate topping wasn't applied exactly right.  Although frustrating it was in some ways refreshing to realize that Vash is a "normal" eater.  He seemed to eat only when he was hungry, and knew enough to stop when he was full, unlike Clyde and I or many other people in the world.  It was nice to get to spend time with him alone, without his Mom's influence.  And we all know that kids are usually better when they're parents are not around, and he was.  But it seems that OCD (obsessive, compulsive, disorder) skips a generation and Vash just may have inherited that from this grandma, who admits to having just a touch of it.  During one hole of mini golf he realized that the flag was missing.  He stopped an attendant that was cleaning the area and adamantly complained that there was no flag in the hole in front of us, as if it was a major offense.  The young man quickly found the missing flag and carefully put it in the hole making Vash a happy six-year old once again.

Vash
 

Terry at the Miniature Golf Course

 



Vash the Pirate

We were able to meet up with Cobey and Caleb, Clyde's boys to see that they were doing good and to catch up on a few things.

The rest of the week was spent trying to meet with as many old friends as we could, over coffee, lunch, dinner or mid-day rendezvous.  On Friday night Andrea and Ronny invited a bunch of our old friends to meet for dinner at a steak house in Calallen before a night of bowling.  While waiting for a table at the restaurant I was spotted by Stan, my former boss who owns Inmon Respiratory Services.  He came over to say hi and chat a bit before he rejoined his wife and kids at their table.

Since our friends love to entertain Saturday was spent preparing for an evening get-together at their house.  We were thrilled to see so many of our old friends show up to see us, and even more impressed at how many were following this blog and knew about all of our adventures here in Panama. A fun night of catching up, eating too much, enjoying some drinks, and cooling off in the pool under the stars. 

And we've come to realize that while prices have gone up here in Panama they've gone up in the US too. One of the reasons we couldn't retire early and stay in Texas was because of the high cost of health insurance.  When Clyde was working in the fire department the city supplemented his insurance premiums, but after retirement we'd have to pay the whole amount.  Two years ago when he retired the after retirement premium would have been close to $1,000 for both of us.  A recent increase of 26% would have that premium at $1,200 a month today!  Here in Panama we pay just $200 a month for health insurance should anything major happen.  But to see a local Panamanian, English speaking doctor we pay just $6.00, or a specialist for $30-$50. 

Getting back to life in Panama this week we had to replenish groceries yesterday.  First stop was a local "Mercado" in San Carlos where locals sell their produce.  Tomatoes, onions, carrots, cabbage, bell peppers, green beans, bananas, two pineapples and garlic for the week was around $12.00.  At the grocery store we picked up any additional produce like fresh spinach for 50 cents, endive or escarole for the same price and sweet potatoes.  Clyde bought two large, whole chickens for around $5.00 each which he boiled up to have for lunches or quick meals for the week.  Some corvina, a type of sea bass for around $2.00 a package (of three fillets), along with some ground beef for $3.00 a pound (prices range from 60 cents a pound here up to $4.00).  Before heading home we stopped for lunch at the Caney Café, a restaurant attached to El Machetazo, the three-level grocery store we were at.  Clyde and I shared a meal of chicken, mashed potatoes, beans and salad for around $4.50.  We drank water which is provided free, and the local tap water is quite good.  On a side note....El Machetazo is like Panama's version of Walmart.  The first floor is home to groceries, toiletries, pet food, and the restaurant.  Up the escalator for people, while our grocery cart rides a separate escalator for carts only to the next floor. The second floor is full of housewares, gifty items nicely displayed, cleaning supplies, crafts and fabric, clothing, shoes, instruments and musical equipment, party supplies, and baby stuff. The top floor has appliances, exercise equipment, school supplies, toys, hardware, garden and paint.

Our flight home was uneventful and boring since the plane offered no movies or Direct TV for entertainment. The meal was a chicken wrap, salad and brownie and we chatted with a US businessman coming here for a quick business trip to pass the time.  We flew thru a brief thunder and lightning storm before landing safely in Tocuman International Airport.

Immediately upon walking outside of the overly air conditioned airport I actually felt my hair begin to frizz from the humidity.  My frizzy head was filled with Spanish being spoken all around me as we waited for the shuttle to the parking lot.  We were back on mañana time, as things moved slowly and no one seemed to be in a hurry.

A big thanks to everyone that welcomed us with open arms throughout our trip.  For those that bought us meals, drinks, or allowed us into their homes we can't thank you enough for your hospitality and friendship.  And especially for those that were willing to put up with us and let us stay with them, like Clyde's sister Donna in Kansas and our friends Ronny and Andrea in Texas.

Maybe just one of these days we'll find ourselves saying, "Bienvenidos a Panama," to some of you that venture out and come to visit us here in Panama.....along the gringo trail.

Goin' To Kansas City....Kansas City Here We Come.......

A few months back when I began thinking about this year's trip to the states, I came up with a new idea.  Maybe this year we could visit my favorite sister-in-law Donna and her husband Dean near Topeka, Kansas.  Clyde hadn't seen his sister in three or four years, and I'd only ever visited with her when she was in Texas.  So we booked a flight for Kansas City, Missouri which seemed to be the closest airport to their house.

We headed into Panama City the night before our trip to make things a little easier on the long day of travel.  With two large suitcases accompanied by two carry-on bags, plus personal items, we quickly stood out as gringo's that needed help.  Promptly, a Panamanian man brought us a cart for our luggage which he pushed to the ticket counter and stood by while we checked in for the flight.  After he passed our luggage through to be checked in Clyde handed him $1.00, which seemed adequate for his five minutes of work.  The man rejected the dollar and said his services would cost $4.00 which Clyde paid since he had no choice.  The ticket agent chuckled and said in English that it should have cost no more than $2.00, and even she said that we'd just been "gringoed." 

With airport security heightened we went through the first security check point as usual and then thought it was safe to buy a bottle of water, after stopping for breakfast.  But lo and behold there was a second security search right before we boarded the plane.  A woman nicely told us that we could step out of the line and drink our bottles of water, or throw them away. Despite the fact that we'd just paid $2.00 per bottle, we chugged down as much as possible before throwing them away and getting back in line.  Did she really think I'd be drinking from the bottle if it contained explosives, poison or some other deadly substance?  Another feeling up from a TSA officer of the same sex and we were allowed to board the packed plane. Little did she know that this travel rebel smuggled small bottles of hand sanitizer and lotion in my purse that I neglected to pull out with my liquids bag.

The first leg of our trip took us to Houston, TX where we would have to collect our luggage that had been checked in, and go through the process to re-check it for the next flight.  Apparently this is a standard procedure on International flights, although I don't remember having to do this last year.  Clyde was complaining all day about having a three and a half hour layover in Houston before boarding the plane to Kansas City.  But as it turned out, the flight was delayed 90-minutes due to bad weather somewhere which made the wait even longer.  Since Clyde's sister Donna was picking us up at the airport which was nearly a two hour drive from her house, we needed to contact her as soon as possible to alert her of the delay.  Clyde tried to find free WIFI in the airport, or even some he could pay for, but there didn't seem to be any such thing.  He walked around for a long time looking for a pay phone but those seem to be a thing of the past.  Our cheap, pre-paid cell phones from Panama didn't work in the US and it was frustrating to have no way to contact her.  Finally Clyde asked a man sitting nearby if he would let us use his cell phone, briefly explaining our situation.  The man agreed and we were able to catch Donna and Dean before they left their house for the airport.  Our hour an a half delay turned into two hours before they let all passengers board, making us even later on the other end. 

But eventually we made our way to Kansas City and spent the next few days reuniting with family and reminiscing about old times.  They showed us around the area including the Tall Grass Prairie, one of the last displays of tall grass in the nation that sits near the Flint Hills Region of Kansas. As it's name suggests, the tall grasses range from five to ten feet in height and some have roots that burrow just as deep. Parts of the prairie's are among the top ten eco-regions and home to an array of reptiles, birds, butterflies and various tree species. Herds of bison roam freely on the prairie's and provided an impressive back drop for our eyes to behold. 

Clyde's Family in Kansas
Sister Donna, Niece Denise and Brother in Law Dean

Dean and Donna with Clyde and Terry in Kansas



And since Donna works for Weight Watchers, she was always conscious of points in the foods she was serving us.  I have to admit that despite the many diets I'd been on throughout my life, that was never one of them because it required asking for help.  But looking back maybe it would have been easier than the drastic road I ended up taking nine years ago when I had gastric bypass surgery and lost 150 pounds.  Funny how our lives can change at any moment just from the little decisions we make, or fail to make along the way.

And just maybe from now on whenever we hear the words to that song we'll remember what a great time we had in Kansas City, just another detour.....along the gringo trail.

Poppycock From Panama.....

Another first in Panama happened for me last night when I sat down to watch the World Cup Soccer game between Panama and the United States. It was a first because I'd never before in my life watched a soccer game, or at least not that I remember.  Our Panamanian neighbors had a yard full of company and had positioned their television set outside in front of their house, surrounded by chairs ready to watch the game.  We left for a few hours to enjoy some time in the pool at a nearby resort that we belong to, and to soak up a little sun.  Besides it was nice escape from the pounding, Panamanian style music coming from the house across the street too.

Unsure as to what time the game would be televised since we'd heard times such as one, four and nine in the evening.  It was around two when we left and the neighbors were still rockin' to the loud music blasting from their large speakers outside, so we assumed the game hadn't started yet.  We returned home around four and were surprised to find the neighbors still not watching soccer.  Once inside I turned on the television and found the game already in progress unsure of its start time, but it was scheduled to end at five according to our Direct TV guide.  We watched the last half of the game as the US scored the only point for a score of 1-0.  The US took home their 5th world cup in soccer, a victory over this tiny little country of Panama that's no bigger than the state of Florida.  And to think this ditzy, damsel void of any sports knowledge didn't even realize that the US was that into soccer.

Panama vs USA!

 

A while later we noticed the music had stopped and the neighbors had gathered round the television outside to watch the game.  Not sure if the local cable stations televised the game later than the satellite stations, or if they were watching some other game?  But I so wanted to run outside and tell them not to bother watching because the US had already won.  Clyde said that I might want to do it from inside the gate and be prepared to run fast back to the house since mangoes thrown by angry Panameños could certainly hurt.  Of course I wouldn't do such a thing, and should they ever try to retaliate against us because of the win, surely I'd remind them that we moved here from Canada.

Recently Clyde had it with the chickens and wanted to see them gone.  Since they'd become not-so-popular, pooping and pecking machines that refused to lay any eggs, he was tired of spending money and time feeding and taking care of them  After all he'd given them a year, raised them from cute, cuddly chicks but still only managed to get a few eggs out of them.  But how to dispose of the frantic, feeding machines?  He could kill them and we could eat them, but being a lifetime, life saver in the fire department he just couldn't do it. Besides killing a chicken is something he'd never done and apparently doesn't want to learn now.  Another option was to drive them one street over and throw them into the yard of our gringo friend since his Rottweiler has taken a liking to eating chickens.  Mysteriously, the chickens that he had a while back turned up missing with tell tale signs of guilt sticking out of his dog's mouth in the way of feathers.  This poor guy even tried the popular method of putting the dead chicken in a sock and tying it around the neck of the dog.  After days of sitting around with a rotten chicken on it's neck and being ignored by his beloved owner, the dog would supposedly get the message that he'd done a bad thing.  But this clever canine managed to get the sock off his neck and ate what was left of the decomposing carcass from inside.  Ok so apparently that trick doesn't work, or at least no one told this clever canine that it was supposed to do the trick anyway.  So last week during our Spanish lesson Clyde asked our Panamanian teacher if she'd like to have the chickens and she agreed to adopt the pooping cluckers for her very own.  She lives with Mama and said that after a while of tending to them, her mom would kill them and make a large pot of sancocho, the local version of chicken soup. A few days later Clyde stuffed the fat, fluffy hens into a box and took them over to her house where they'd spend their final days.  Clyde is quite content and our yard is once again free from clucking and stinky smells that go along with raising laying hens, that turned out to be lazy lassies who didn't earn their keep.

This was NOT what we got from our lazy ass chickens!
 





Another mango season is almost over as we pick up the last of the free fruits from the lawn. Our freezer is full of bagged mangoes that will make the rest of the year sweeter as we indulge in their gooey goodness.  We've eaten our fill of mango salsa, mango cookies (the healthier version without sugar),  low-sugar mango jams, mango chutney, mango sorbets, salads and parfaits all crafted by the sweet, loving, hands of the one-and-only "Mangoreesa".  Mango's have been munched and crunched, boiled and baked,  fried and tried on most everything, with the only thing left to be spreading it all over is my handsome hubby. And perhaps when and if we do find mangoes making their way into the bedroom we best bury our befuddled, boudoir, behavior in the back of our brains and not broadcast it here....along the gringo trail.

The Simple Little Roadside Clinic......

Once a year when we lived in Texas we'd visit our weight loss surgeon for a follow up appointment.  Prior to the appointment we'd pick up an order for lab work, and then faithfully we'd forgo our morning coffee and head to the lab bright and early with tummies empty.  Since we haven't had lab work done in over a year we thought it was time, and living near Coronado we have several choices.  One option was to visit the San Fernando Clinic, a new, modern facility geared toward expats.  The freezing cold, overly air-conditioned facility has a lab, pharmacy, specialty doctor's that can be seen by appointment along with an emergency room that no longer offers 24-hour services. But even though the clinic is geared toward gringos the staff still speaks little to no English, at least those that we've met there.

A braver, more adventurous option was to visit a Panamanian clinic where we'd pay less for the tests, so of course we took the challenge.  The tiny little cement building is painted bright yellow with the words "Multi's-Services" written on top in large, red letters. The misspelling was apparently their attempt to write in English.   Under the title in smaller writing is a list of the services they offer.  The clinic opened up at 7am and we dragged our coffee-less butts in around 8am not knowing what to expect.  Inside was a tiny room painted bright pink with eight chairs, an old desk where the receptionist sat, and a small table that held an older model television set and a boom box playing Latin music.  We presented the girl at the desk with our orders which we had translated into Spanish by my gynecologist here, from an old order I'd kept from our weight loss surgeon in Texas. She efficiently transferred the orders onto a pad of paper that served as a receipt and looked up the prices of each test.

Little Roadside Laboratory in Coronado



She delivered the order to a male lab technician in the back room and soon after he called my name.  I walked into a tiny room with an old brown, stuffed chair that sat next to a table of supplies.  The fifty-something year old gentleman was dressed in blue slacks and a plaid shirt to match, which accentuated his protruding belly.  In Spanish he asked me to have a seat and immediately grabbed my arm looking at my veins.  In English he said, "close your hand," a common practice used to bring the veins to the surface.  With a quick, tiny pinch he drew one syringe of blood which he transferred into several tubes for the various tests to be performed.  This is much easier than in the states where they attach the tubes directly to the needle area, switching tubes as many times as necessary.  I know this since I was trained to draw blood when I studied to be a medical assistant, and the changing of the tubes was a bit tricky.  After he was done he put a cotton ball over the spot where he drew the blood and bent my arm upwards until he unwrapped a tiny band aid to cover it with.  Here in Panama technicians wear no gloves which definitely saves a bunch of money, since they're not throwing a pair away after every patient.

As soon as I was done the man called "Clee-day," which is the way they pronounce Clyde's name here, as it doesn't translate well into Spanish.  Although I've never liked the name "Theresa" when they say "Teresa" with a Spanish accent it's more acceptable to my ears.  In fact since they don't understand "Terry" many times when asked my name I simply say, "it's Teresa."  We each had twelve  different tests performed for a total of $133.00 each, or $266.00 for both of us.  Being cheap as we are we thought it was a lot of money but had to look at it this way.  We could be back in the states paying $1,000 a month for our health insurance premium and pay little to nothing for the same tests, or pay out of pocket here one time instead. After Clyde paid the girl in cash he asked when we could pick up the results.  She told him the results would be ready Monday after 10am which amazed us that they could have them done that fast. And in case you're wondering why we don't let our health insurance here pay for the lab work it's because they'd want to know why we were having the tests done. Since the labs are all related to our weight loss surgeries and pre-existing conditions are not covered by our insurance here, they wouldn't cover the tests.  Along with the normal things like cholesterol, and glucose weight loss surgery patients are tested for protein levels, calcium, B-12, iron and more.

New dental clinic in Coronado with an example of prices. 

Yes it's that cheap and the dentists are real dentists with six years of dental school.

This translates to:  Braces, White Fillings, Cleanings And Extractions.

 

 

So now we know what's inside the tiny clinic that sits behind the congested bus stop, across the highway to the affluent beach community of Coronado. Since we moved here to immerse ourselves in the culture why not take advantage of the good, cheap health care that the locals use.  It's much nicer to see a doctor for $7 than to pay one $50 just because they're in a fancy building. And besides it's more fun to venture into the little hole in the wall clinics and come out with a story to tell here in this little blog....along the gringo trail.

Getting The Run Around.....In The Tribunal Electoral.....

Back in May we took it upon ourselves to drive into Panama City and submit the initial paperwork for a Panamanian cedula.  The word "cedula" in Spanish simply means "identification card" and every Panamanian over the age of 18 carries one here as a form of ID.  Unlike the US where a birth certificate serves as ID until one reaches driving age and then a driver's license takes over, since so many people here don't drive there's only one form of ID needed.

At first when we moved here our passport served as ID, until we secured our Pensionado's (residency) Visas which then became our identity.  Although we do have Panamanian driver's licenses they don't seem to be highly regarded as forms of identification here.  Last year the government of Panama began offering to foreigners an actual cedula which looks much more like the one carried by all locals.  So being the crazy adventure whores that we are, we decided to apply for the coveted cedula on our own, without the help of a lawyer.  Some friends who'd gone before us gave us the list of what documents we had to present to the "Department of Migration," in the city.

We dropped off the documents in May and were told to return in 30 days which we did, only to be told that our paperwork had not been processed yet, and to come back in July.  Yesterday we made the trip into the city again and waited our turn in migration where they found Clyde's paperwork completed but seem to have misplaced mine.  After searching through the pile of papers the girl found my application stuck on the back of Clyde's paperwork and told us to return in another 30 days.
Since Clyde was ready to proceed to the next step we left migration and headed to another part of the city to find The Tribunal Electoral.

The name to me sounds like we'd be forced to meet with a panel of Indians wearing full native garb and feathered head dresses.  But the reality is that the TE is merely another government office in Panama, which issues identification cards to it's people and gives them the right to vote. Once inside the building we were on the ground floor called "planta baha," or "ground floor," which is different from the first floor.  The receptionist instructed us to go to the third floor, a direction that we immediately followed.  But when we got there the receptionist there gave us a funny look and sent us down to the first floor, and someone there sent us to another floor, then another and another.  I think they just enjoy sending silly gringos on a wild chase up and down the stairs over and over again.  The office upstairs had to stamp the paperwork, then we had to go downstairs to the cashier to pay $65 for the cedula.  After that back upstairs we went only to be told "sistema no sirve," which means "the system's down," come back mañana.  But instead we'll just wait another 30 days when my paperwork should be ready, and take both sets of paperwork to the TE. 

Before leaving the congested, gridlock traffic of the megalopolis we stopped at Price Smart to stock up on paper goods and other stuff that seem a bit cheaper in the warehouse club type of store.  Also a brief stop at Riba Smith, a local grocery chain that offers many of the US imports we can't find throughout the country.  We picked up some Tahini, a paste made from ground sesame seeds to try our hand at making hummus, a dip made from tahini and chickpeas.  We made our way back to the house late where we barely had time for some leftovers before heading out again.  A last minute invite to a local restaurant to bid a temporary farewell to a new friend Tricia was our next stop.  From there we headed to Coronado Bay Condominiums for an impromptu birthday party for some first time visitors to Panama contemplating spending more time here.  Our head hit the pillows at the early hour of 1am where we drifted off quickly to sleep, after a long, tiring day of retirement.

It was hard to crawl out of bed this morning to the darkness of a cloudy day with rain pitter pattering off the tin roof.  The rain gave way to a partly clear sky as the day progressed, yet the heaviness of the humidity lingered on and saturated our souls but not our spirits with dampness.

A few days ago we had a delightful moment while dickering around in a local hardware-home store called Novey.  As usual my friendly, hubby said hola to the helpful salesclerk who recognized him in passing.  The clerk began saying something to Clyde in Spanish and faithfully followed us up the escalator to the second floor of the store, which in Panama is really the first floor after planta baha.  The pushy Panamanian continued to follow us through the aisles until we stopped to look at something where he cornered us and continued to cackle about the countless numbers of "ofertas" or sales going on in the store.  Perhaps it's a possibility that my handy hubby spends too much time shopping the hardware stores for fabulous finds to fix faulty home projects?  Or that his creative counterpart comes up with too many projects that purposely propel him outside of the casa and into the hands of helpful clerks, begging to bag some balboas....along the gringo trail.

The Price Of Flying High.....

One of the benefits we receive here in Panama as retiree's is 25% off the price of airplane tickets.  Everyone knows all too well that flying anywhere nowadays it not cheap, and any little savings is worth the effort.  Since last year was our first year to cash in on the airline benefit, we only knew of one way to get the discount.  After looking online for a flight that fit our schedule we selected the flight, hit the button that said "pay cash," and then we made the 90-minute trek into Panama City.  Once there we had to find the United Airlines (Star Alliance Group which covers many carriers) office on Balboa, find parking, and stand in line to get our discount. 

This year several friends mentioned a way to do it via the internet, and someone even gave us an email address to reach that office.  But when the email wasn't answered after a day, we became impatient and tried to find a phone number to the office.  We searched online and dialed #120 directory assistance for all of Panama but any number given to us was for United Airlines International, and not that specific office. Since it's Panama that offers the discount and NOT the airlines it's self, it has to be done through this office.

Since we have plenty of time we jumped into the car and drove into Panama City.  Once we found the office on Avenida Balboa we even managed to find a parking spot right outside the door.  We were waited on immediately once inside the door, and just like last year the clerks were very nice, professional and even spoke English.  It was toward the end of the transaction when another clerk came out of her office and looked over the shoulder of the woman waiting on us.  She seemed to recognize us from our passport photos and stopped to ask, "didn't you email me," she asked?  Clyde explained that yes we did but made the drive anyway being impatient and not wanting the fare prices to change since we placed them on a "fare lock," which we paid extra for.



The sweet woman explained in English that next time after choosing an itinerary hit the "pay cash" button, send her an email and she will adjust the price from her office, eliminating the need for us to drive to her. She also suggested that we sign up for their "mileage plus" program for save a little more money in the future.  I asked about a phone number and she explained that while there is no phone into the office for the public they can call us if necessary. But it was nice to know there's a real person on the other side of that email address that really will take care of our needs, next time around.

Everywhere we go clerks chuckle when we hand over our credit card since our photo is proudly displayed on the front.  It's customary here for the clerk to ask for ID when using a card, but when they see our photo they tell us "never mind."  In the end the airline office adjusted the price of our tickets to result in a savings of over $300.  It's kind of nice that Panama is willing to pay us for living here, just one of the many perks of being retiree's here.  And in case you forgot from previous posts the following is a general list of benefits for those of us living here with "pensionado" status.  And that simply means that we've proved we have money coming in from outside of the country, through either a private pension or social security and are not allowed to work here in Panama.

Under the pensionado program we're entitled to :

• 50% off entertainment, such as movies, theater, concerts, and sporting event
• 25% off restaurant meals, 15% on fast food
• 30% off bus, boat, and train fares
• 25% off airline tickets
• 50% off hotel stays Monday through Thursday, 30% off on weekends
• 15% off hospital bills
• 10% off prescription medicines*
• 20% off medical consultations*
• 15% off dental and eye exams*
• 20% off professional and technical services
• 50% off closing costs for home loans
• And more…

*Unless insurance applies

Now if we could only get them to discount our grocery bill since that seems to be where most of our money goes.  But I suppose that we can't have everything, even though we all want it that way....along the gringo trail.

How Things Have Changed......

As I sit here drinking my cup of cappuccino topped off with a layer of frothed milk, I realize how much my life has changed over the last two years. Two years ago I was a devout, confirmed, anti-coffee, tea drinker that didn't even like the flavor of coffee in ice cream.  But after we moved to Panama and visited a coffee farm in Boquete, I sampled the coffee at the end of the tour and thought "I could get used to this." And get used to it I have so much that not only do we grind our own beans, but just recently we even bought a cappuccino maker with a milk frother too. 

In Texas we ate tortilla chips, here in Panama we eat plantain chips.  Those long, green, things that look like bananas are sliced either lengthwise or into chips and fried to make tasty snacks.  The best "platanitos" or plantain chips can be found at these little grocery stories called "chino's."  These little stores are all owned by Chinese people, that's where the name comes from.  They're packaged in tiny, cellophane bags which makes me wonder if the store owner cooked up a batch earlier that morning in his kitchen?  And that brings to mind another common practice done here that would never be done in the US....eating things from the kitchen of a stranger.

Be it plantain chips, baked goods, candy, cups of fruit or anything else that one can buy on the street corner here that was processed in some one's personal kitchen.  Although I'm a bit of a germaphobe, I've never hesitated to pick up some local goodies from roadside stands to help support the poor, innovative, hardworking Panamanian.  Things are different here and people don't seem afraid to buy this stuff out of home kitchens.  Perhaps people here are naive, crazy or just still trust other people to do the right thing?  We've bought cookies, breads, meringue candy, tamarind candy and other stuff from local stands alongside the road.  Drive through Panama City on any given day and it's easy to find bags of cut up fresh fruit, pizzas, cooked meats, breads and other delights.  Vendors stand in the middle of the street and sell things to drivers stuck in traffic.  But how great is that to be driving home after a long day at work and be able to pick up fresh cut pineapple for very little?  Or a loaf of fresh baked bread to take home to the family?  Yet despite the home made nature of this stuff, the package always seems to have an expiration date listed on it, crazy as that sounds!

My innovative husband decided to try his hand at making plantain chips because he likes to cook, or more likely because he's cheap?  He even picked up a handy-dandy, wooden, plantain slicer to slice up the hard, green gems before frying.  They actually came out good and one plantain between us was plenty for a cheap snack. 

Plantain Slicer

This is what the plantains look like,
For frying, the greener the better

The plantains peeled and
ready to slice

The perfect slices ready to fry

Yes, I am using vegetable oil
they don't seem to soak up the oil
as bad as potatoes do

The finished product
perfect "platanitos"



A few weeks ago it was time for Clyde to get the stitches taken out of his toe after he broke it on the cruise (refer back to blog called "Caribbean Cruise To Hospital"). Our Spanish teacher Jasmine suggested a local clinic located right on the highway and told us we'd be charged $1 to $2 per "punto," or stitch that had to be removed.  The place was called something like Montenegro Clinic and probably had 20 people waiting to be seen by a doctor when we walked in.  Jasmine said there's three doctors there, her favorite being Dr. Ortega but there's also Dr. Montenegro and a female doctor too.  Clyde explained to the receptionist what he needed and she asked us to come back in one hour which we did.

We were escorted into a small room where I sat in a chair and Clyde sat up on the exam table.  Next to the chair where I sat was a stash of drug samples piled high on a book shelf.  Having worked as a medical assistant back in Texas, I know drug samples are NOT made accessible to the public for obvious reasons, but here things are different and there they sat right out in the open.  The doctor entered the room, a middle-aged man wearing a dress shirt and slacks with a stethoscope hung around his neck.  He chatted with Clyde in Spanish inquiring as to what happened to his foot before removing the stitches.  As we left the clinic we paid the receptionist $10 cash for his services, so apparently we were charged $2 per stitch, less than we paid WITH insurance back in the states!

Our computer died beyond repair, so yesterday we made the trek into Panama City to buy a new one.  The computer savvy young man that diagnosed the problems on our old one suggested one particular store to shop at, so that's where we headed.  A place called YoyTec who's up-to-date website listed all of the models that they had in the store, and which ones were in English and Spanish.  Before we left  I suggested to Clyde that he write down the name and model number of the one he was interested in, before we left for the long drive and it's a good thing he did.

Inside YoyTec was a large counter with one line for internet purchases and another for sales.  To one side was a row of computers for customers to use, apparently a type of virtual showroom since there was NO actual showroom with items on display.  Clyde gave the item number to the man behind the counter who sent a runner to fetch the computer.  Next we were sent to the cashier to pay for the laptop that was still in a box and we hadn't actually seen yet.  And then to one more window we we'd pick up the item.  It's at this station that the clerk usually opens the box, sets up the device to show the customer that it's in working condition before it leaves the building.  You see here in Panama it's takes almost an act of God to return anything, so it's important to make sure it's really what you want before purchasing.  But since the electricity was out in this computer store we were sent next door to their service department where a generator was running.  There the man plugged in the laptop and had Clyde go through the prompts for initial setup, verifying that it  worked and that nothing was missing from the box. 

While driving through Panama City we noticed the price of gas was a bit cheaper than here in the interior.  It was selling for $1.01 per liter which is something else we've been forced to finally learn a little of.....the metric system! 

Yesterday was a cool rainy day with temperatures hovering around 22 degrees Celsius which translates to around 72 degrees Fahrenheit. Recently while grocery shopping Clyde ordered two kilograms of turkey breast, thinking he was asking for ONE pound.  The clerk kept cutting and piling the meat up high on the scale.  Clyde was getting upset and finally told him, "no mas, solomente dos kilos."  Finally we figured out we had the conversion backwards.  Two kilos is about 4-1/2 pounds so instead we should have asked for 1/2 of a kilo instead of asking for two.  Instead we walked away with over four pounds of meat which turns out freezes nicely and we just take out what we'll use that week.  The grocery stores here recently converted from pounds to kilos making everyone confused.

On the roads here we drive between 60 and 100 kilometers per hour instead of miles.  Land is measured in hectares instead of acres or meters squared and not square footage too.  When I bake it's at 176 degrees instead of 350, since the oven is also metric.  So besides struggling with learning Spanish we're also learning a bit of the metric system, something we probably should have learned years ago.

Well I think it's time for another cup of coffee which is brewed so strong here that it's served "mitad y mitad," or half and half. I didn't realize this until one morning on the cruise when the waiter asked this question and I watched him pour half a cup of coffee into the cup and top it with half a cup of hot milk.  Funny to think we live in a world of people pumped up on coffee here when they move so slow at everything they do. And I do think we're moving a bit slower now too since there's nothing that really has to be done right now, since there's always tomorrow....along the gringo trail.