Of Coffee and Horses.

Hola a todos,
Today has been a day full of adventures.



This morning, I toured a coffee farm just outside of Boquete, in an area called Jaramillo Alto. The farm is about 5 hectares (a hectare is a metric measurement of area. 5 hectares is about 12 acres). It's owned by a man named Don Tito. Don Tito grows eight varieties of coffee, including a variety called "Geisha Coffee." It's the second-most expensive variety of coffee in the world. His farm can produce up to 7,000 kilos of coffee in a good year.

Don Tito was a pretty interesting guy. He used to be a vegetable farmer, but he decided that he wanted to start growing coffee. The problem with growing coffee is that it takes five years for coffee plants to start producing consistently, and it's a very labor-intensive crop. In addition, in order to grow arabica coffee, the idea elevation is 1500 meters above sea level. Don Tito had land, but he had no idea what elevation it was. It turned out that his farm was precisely at 1500 meters above sea level. Don Tito named his farm "La Milagrosa," or "the miraculous one," because everything seemed miraculous when he started to pursue his dream of growing coffee.




Coffee doesn't look like a bean when it's growing. The coffee fruit is actually called a cherry, and it can be either red or yellow. It's a real fruit, and it's very sweet. The cherries should be picked when they are very ripe. If they are picked when they are green, they ruin the flavor of the coffee blend. Then the fruit is separated from the beans and discarded (in the case of Don Tito, he recycles the pulp as fertilizer for the farm). There are usually two beans in each cherry. If there's only one, this is called a peaberry, and it's highly prized for its stronger flavor. If there are three beans, they're called fenomenales, and they generally have less flavor than the others. The beans are dried in the sun for several weeks, then dried indoors for three months more.




There's an extra paper-like layer that has to be removed from the bean. The beans then are finally roasted, after which they look like the coffee you've seen in the store.






There are lots and lots of factors that go into making a good coffee. Don Tito blends several varieties of beans to make his coffee. If the beans float in water, they are poor quality, and they're discarded. When the coffee is roasted, it's roasted at 250ºC for 12 minutes. The beans make a popping noise as they roast. After 12 minutes, the beans are considered to be lightly roasted. After another 40 seconds, they are a medium roast, and another 40 seconds after that, it's a dark roast. After that, the coffee is burnt, so it's a delicate process.




It was a tasty experience.




This afternoon, I decided I wanted to go horseback riding. The countryside is beautiful outside of Boquete, and the Volcán Barú looks awesome from any angle. It's been a while since I rode a horse, so I'm quite proud to say that I did the challenging trail without a problem. There was a stretch of trail that went straight up a muddy hillside, so that was thrilling.

Plan what you can, go with the flow, and don't be a doofus.

Hola a todos,
I have many stories to share with you today. Many, many stories.

I decided yesterday that I wanted to spend a few days in Chiriquí. I was supposed to travel with my friend's mom, but she got sick so I decided just to go by myself. I left the house in Panama around 10 am, made it to the bus terminal by 11, and got in the longest line I have ever been in to buy a bus ticket. There were so many people that there were news reporters taking pictures and writing stories about the congestion in the station. Seriously, I might be in a Panamanian newspaper right now. It took 2.5 hours just to get in sight of the ticket window.

This is where the story of Eddie the Gringo begins.

Just as I was getting near the window, a guy came up to me and said, "Do you speak English?" It had been three days since I'd spoken English and he caught me off-guard, so I said that I did. He spoke no Spanish at all and he was completely clueless about how to buy a bus ticket. Trying to be nice, I helped him get a ticket. There were hundreds of people buying bus tickets to the city of David, so as soon as you bought your ticket, you had to go straight to the waiting room, and buses were constantly boarding. So that meant that because I helped Eddie the Gringo buy his ticket at the same time that I bought mine, he had the seat next to me.

Time out. When I travel in Spanish-speaking countries, I only speak Spanish. I don't speak English unless I have to. It's safer that way, and it's just plain polite to speak the same language as the people around you when you can. Also, I don't speak to strangers, no matter what language they speak. At the very least, I'm very selective about the strangers to whom I speak.

I thought that once I helped Eddie the Gringo buy his bus ticket that my job would be done. No. Eddie the Gringo insisted on talking to me. Here's a tip, guys: it's okay to ask general questions about people's travel plans, and it's best to ask where people have already been if you want to make small talk. But when you ask people details about their plans for the next day, you're being really, really, really creepy. Eddie the Gringo was creeping me out big time, asking about where I was going and where I was staying. This is an example of when lying a little bit is okay. I told him I was meeting friends in Potrerillos, a small town near the town where I was actually staying. Never tell complete strangers your detailed travel plans, even if they seem really awesome. Eddie the Gringo was not awesome in any way.

In general, Eddie the Gringo was just plain creepy and overwhelmingly clueless. He didn't know how to do anything in Spanish, and he didn't even know how to ask people for help in Spanish. What's worse, he never even tried. Please don't be like Eddie the Gringo.

In the waiting room of the bus station, there were people wall-to-wall waiting for buses. I had to wait for the attendant to shout the number of the bus that was printed on my ticket. This is why knowing your numbers in Spanish is important, kids. I also had to check a bag on the bus, and when I got to David at 1:30 in the morning yesterday, I had to wait for my number to be called. Seriously. Study your numbers.

It also helps to know the alphabet in Spanish. I had to call a hostel in Boquete to make reservations, and since my name is not a common name in Spanish, I had to spell it over the phone. I also had to spell my first and last name when I bought my bus ticket. Seems like something really simple, and it is, but it could save you a lot of trouble just knowing the alphabet.

The bus ride to David was only supposed to take 8 hours, but with the incredible amount of traffic and some wicked rain, it took 10 hours. I'll make the next moral of the story brief and to the point: always carry your own toilet paper. Bus bathrooms will not have TP. Bus station bathrooms will not have TP (unless they're the kind of bathroom you have to pay to use, in which case they will have TP). But in general, always always always BYOTP. My friend's mom gave me a roll of TP before I left her house. Best present ever. The end.

After the bus got to David, I still had to find my way to the town of Boquete, about 45 minutes away. I had planned on arriving to David around 7 p.m., but with the traffic, I didn't get there until 1:30 a.m. That meant that there was no public transportation to be had, so I had to get a taxi. A friend who is from Boquete told me that taxis should cost about $18 from David to Boquete. I asked a taxi driver how much he charged for the trip, and he told me $30. "No, gracias," I said. "$25," he replied. I asked around, and the cheapest I could find was $23, probably because of the late hour. It's pretty normal for taxi drivers (or anyone, for that matter) to raise their prices if they think they can get the money out of you. If you can, check around and see how much things should cost before you try to go somewhere.

Finally, I made it to my hostel at 2:30 this morning. I know I've talked about hostels before; they're dorm-style rooms, and you rent a bed for the night. I was shown to a room where three other people were already asleep. The moral of this leg of the trip is to always pack your most important stuff at the top of your bag so that you don't wake everyone else up by digging around for a toothbrush. I knew that. Just making sure that you do.

So there are some general themes here.
1.) Plan ahead as much as you can. Ask how much things should cost, think about what you'll need when you get to your destination, take an extra bottle of water in case an 8 hour trip turns into a 16 hour trip.
2.) If your plans don't work out, go with the flow and don't stress about it. You'll get where you're going eventually.
3.) Don't be afraid to ask questions and try doing things on your own. If you don't, you'll have trouble getting anywhere and you'll constantly have to rely on other people. Don't be like Eddie the Creepy Gringo.

Baseball

Hola a todos,
I went to a baseball game last night in Panama City--Metro vs. Los Santos. Baseball games in Panama are quite different than baseball games in the States.



Here are three main differences I noted:

1.) Tickets are $3. You sit on concrete steps. If you want real stadium seats, tickets are $4.


2.) People are insane about baseball in Panama. The game was tied 1-1 through the ninth innings and went into a tenth inning. Los Santos scored a run in the top of the tenth and the crowd went nuts, throwing their drinks and screaming and beating on drums.


3.) Oh yeah, drums. There was an entire percussion section at the game. Not just someone beating on a couple of bongos, but an all-out section of people playing percussion instruments together, mostly salsa rhythms, throughout the entire game. I'll try to get a video for you guys to listen to it. I'm having trouble uploading video right now, but I'll see what I can do.



Strangely, most baseball terms are in English. So you might hear someone say, "Carlos Muñoz de Los Santos está al bate, y tiene un strike. Rodríquez está en primero base. Los Santos tienen dos outs." There's actually a verb that means "to get someone out"--"ponchar". So you'll hear people in the stands screaming "pónchalo!"--"get him out!"




Afterwards, my friends wanted to get something to eat, but it was late. What's the only fast food restaurant that's open late? You guessed it--Taco Bell! It was really, really weird to order food in Spanish at a Taco Bell. Panamanian Taco Bells sell french fries, by the way--complete with salsa, nacho cheese, and jalapeño rings.



I'm a bit in a hurry to get packed up and get to the bus station, so I'll stop here. I'm heading to Chiriquí province tonight, to the city of Boquete. A friend of a friend told me that the Easter celebration in Boquete is very beautiful, and the region itself is beautiful, high in the mountains. There are also lots of coffee plantations, so I'm looking forward to some tasty samples. :)

¡Hasta pronto!

Casco Viejo

Hola a todos,
Today I visited Casco Viejo, an old neighborhood in Panama City. If you remember from the last entry, Panama City was the first European-built city in the Americas. It was begun around 1513 by Spanish conquistadores. The conquistadores built the city facing the Pacific Ocean, which made it very accessible by sea--too accessible, in fact, because the city was attacked and destroyed by pirates in 1519. The city center was moved to a more easily defensible spot, in what is now the present-day barrio of Casco Viejo.

Casco Viejo is an important government and cultural center for Panama. It houses the Institute of Culture, the National Theater, various government institutions such as the ministry of foreign affairs, and the president's house. There's also some really great colonial architecture in the neighborhood, as well as a fantastic view of the commercial center of Panama across a small bay.

The president of Panama's house:


A pretty sweet view of the city:


Some of the colonial architecture I was talking about:



And some artwork in Casco Viejo:


And finally, the food picture of the day--patacones. Patacones are plantains that are fried, mashed, and fried again. They are, I assure you, quite tasty.



I'm going on a sort of random road trip to the province of Chiriquí tonight, so I may not get a chance to post again for a while. ¡Hasta pronto!

A man, a plan, a canal, Panama!

That title is a palindrome (it reads the same backwards as it does forwards), and it usually refers to president Theodore Roosevelt's push to create the Panama canal. It's a bit more complicated than that, though, as I learned today.

Saul and I went to the Miraflores Locks, just outside of the city. Our area used to have a complex system of locks when the rivers were used more for shipping, particularly in the 1800s. If you're not familiar with locks, they raise and lower water levels to help boats move from different elevations. The Panama Canal has three sets of locks. It takes most cargo ships about 8-10 hours to travel the whole length of the canal.

The canal was started in the 1800s by the French, and the project was never finished. At the time, they didn't have the tools they needed to complete the canal, and the project was abandoned. Panama declared its independence from Spain in 1821, and found that it was struggling in its independence, so it joined forces with Colombia. Unfortunately, Colombia took advantage of Panama, taking its natural resources and forcing its citizens to work for Colombia's interests. The United States took an interest in Panama, realized its potential for creating a canal, and decided to help Panama gain its independence from Colombia.

The canal was completed in 1913, after lots of difficulties (hacking through the jungle, exploding mountains, and Dengue fever, for example). It was opened for travel in 1914. The United States controlled all traffic through the canal, and there was a designated "canal zone" that Panamanians were not allowed to enter--it was only for American citizens. In the middle of the country of Panama. In 1964, a group of students launched a protest against US control of the canal. They argued that a canal through Panama should be controlled by Panama. They entered the Canal Zone, ripped up a US flag, and flew the Panamanian flag from a light post. In 1977, the Carter-Torrijo Treaty was signed, promising that the US would cede control of the canal to Panama in 1999. Finally, in 1999, that's what happened--86 years after the canal was completed.

You might think that, with a history like the one I just described, Panamanians wouldn't have a very good opinion of the United States. That's not true. On the whole, Panamanians have very positive views of the US and its citizens. I was in a grocery store today, and I was surprised by the vast number of American brands I saw--not just the ones you might expect, like Coca Cola, but lots of different products like Snyder's chips, Philadelphia cream cheese, Pantene shampoo, and lots of other things that I know I'm forgetting right now. That was refreshing for me, because I'm accustomed to visiting countries that have a less favorable impression of the US.

I also visited Panamá Vieja today. It's the original Panama City, built by the Spaniards around 1513 when Balboa reached the Pacific coast. Panamá Vieja was very accessible by sea, which was unfortunate when pirates attacked and destroyed it in 1519. The city center was moved to a more protected location.

Modern-day Panama City:


The cemetery for workers who died while building the Panama Canal




A cargo ship entering the Miraflores locks on the Panama Canal



And you all know how much I love ruins/history/nerdy things--this is the bell tower of Panama Vieja, most of which was destroyed by pirates in 1519

Ya llego, Panamá

Hola a todos,
I made it safely to Panamá, despite an hour-long delay in Pittsburgh and a close connecting flight in Miami. I had to run the length of the concourse, but I made the flight. We flew over Cuba, which was pretty cool.

I'm staying with my friend Saul and his family while I'm in the city, and I spent the afternoon settling in and meeting Saul's three cats: Pochi, Salem, and Benito. Saul and his family speak both English and Spanish, and Saul also speaks Portuguese, so it's been a multilingual experience so far.

I admit that I was a bit concerned about coming to Panama City. I've never been to Panama before, and I've heard some scary stories about the city from friends and acquaintances. I'm happy to report that everything is just fine in Panamá.

So, while I don't have much to report, I wanted to check in with everybody. There will be more photos and more fun stuff tomorrow!

Also, I just want to rub it in that it's 95° here.


Hola, Cuba!











A quick view of the Panama Canal from the airplane:

T -1

¡Hola a todos!

Everything's packed and ready to go. I bought a new hiking backpack recently, and I'm not thrilled with the design, so packing was a little more difficult than in the past. I loved my last pack, but it died a grisly death in a dark little hostel in Foz de Iguaçu, Brazil. I had bought it for about $20 in a grocery store in Mexico four years ago, so its time had come. RIP, blue backpack.

Packing for eight days is not much different from packing for eight weeks. You need the same stuff and roughly the same amount of clothing, the only difference is that you probably won't need to do any washing. I could have packed more lightly, but there was lots of room in the bag, so I figured I'd go ahead and splurge--I packed an extra pair of shoes. Crazy, right?

The pack weighed in at 10 kilos, or 22 pounds, which is a little lighter than usual for me (there are 2.2 pounds in a kilogram, btw. Fun fact).



There it is!




And here's the carry-on. It's the green thing under the blue bag. I try to keep my carry-on small so I can just stick it under the seat during takeoff. That blue bag on the left is a dry pack, a kind of bag that people use on kayaking or rafting trips. It has waterproofed seams and a rubber seal. I might be a little paranoid, but after my passport nearly disintegrated in Paraguay, I keep everything important in waterproof or plastic bags. The plastic bag next to the blue one has my most recent book in it--Le Comte de Monte-Cristo, or The Count of Monte Cristo. I'm only on page 58 of 926, so it should keep me busy on the plane.

I also keep a journal when I travel. It's surprising how much more I enjoy the places that I visit when I sit down and reflect on them at the end of the day. It's also really cool to reread my journal after I get home and remember details of the places I've been. That helps me share a lot more than just pictures with my students--I can tell them how I felt, what things smelled like, people and objects that I didn't catch on camera. I have a lot of coursework to do for my grad classes, too, but I worked ahead a bit and all I have left are some online readings. Plus, the topic for this week's grad class is social networking, which I will be doing quite a lot of as I keep up with all of you in our Facebook group!

Have a very restful Sunday afternoon. I'm off to enjoy the cool weather and get some more homework done before tomorrow!