I was staying with friends in the Chapala area and running some errands, mainly between Arraijan and La Chorerra.  I decided to use the local buses known as diablos rojos. I waited at a nearby bus stop, and as the red devil rumbled to a crawl I swung myself aboard. Oftentimes a young entrepreneur gets on the bus to sell condoms (before and during carnaval), gum, drinks, food, or religion. They’ll ride for a few bus stops, tolerated by the driver.

On this morning it was all Che and religion. I wasn’t surprised to see something of Che Guevara, the former Argentine doctor and rebel who was killed in Bolivia. As legends go, he had passed through Panama, even Casco Viejo. He had eaten at the Coca Cola Café, which is still pretty much the same and still serving good food. 

The man was the last to come onboard, not needing a seat. He was ready to tell us what he thought we needed to hear; and we had no way out. He walked up and down the aisle, ranting about this and that, and why we should believe in the Bible. I had no doubt that he believed as many do in Central America that it’s bad luck—and bad manners—not  to listen to someone when they are preaching religion—no matter what belief it is.

The young man was wearing a belt buckle. And not just any belt buckle. It was huge. Comparable to what you might see a cowboy wearing in the states while at a rodeo. It was obvious that the man was proud of his buckle and he wanted it to be noticed. On the buckle was an engraving of Che Guevara, the image of which we have all seen. The original picture was taken by Alberto Korda while Che was attending a funeral. He’s wearing a beret with a star on it and his hair is hanging down. That image is copyright protected and since Che’s death has been produced worldwide on T-shirts, coffee mugs, key chains and now as I saw… belt buckles. Someone had further enhanced the engraving by painting over it with bright colors. As this young man yelled out Bible verses, I wondered if he knew anything about Guevara.

I know his image is popular. And I know that to many he represents what being a rebel is all about. I’ve seen tourists buy Guevara T-shirts and then proudly walk down the sidewalk showing them off as if to say, “Hey, look at me, I’m a rebel like Che.”

There are some that to this day believe Che was a hero. A martyr. I am not one of them. I am, however, amazed how little many people know about him, and will defend his actions. I knew men from my ranger days that had been a part of Special Forces, Eighth Group (later Seventh Group) that had trained Bolivian Rangers and eventually caught Che and his followers. I’ve read his diaries and other writings. I mention this to show that I have studied the man, his politics, and his beliefs. But at the same time, I understand why his image is as popular as ever, especially in the Americas.

The man with the Che belt buckle finished what he had to say, pulled off his hat, and made the rounds. In actuality we were getting close to his bus stop. I watched as just about everyone (these are people with little to no disposable income) dropped nickels, dimes, and even some quarters into his waiting hat. When the entrepreneur stuck his field expedient offering plate under my nose, I shook my head no. He lingered there for a moment, but then moved on.

I didn’t think too much about it until a couple of days later. I was looking for an Internet café, one that I had used in the past that was owned by a Chinese – Panamanian family. I found a different one after searching, but it was closed with people waiting; even the hours posted showed that it should have been open. No surprises there. I went next door and got a bite to eat. As I finished an empanada and sipped thick, rich coffee, I noticed the sidewalk clear. A few minutes later I was inside the Internet café and waiting to pay. As I waited my turn, a woman loudly entered the open door, and as I turned to look at her, she made a beeline straight toward me. She was carrying religious pamphlets and waved them like a fan back and forth. She asked me to buy one; it was only $1.25. I shook my head no. She tried again and got the same result. Then she dropped the price to $1.00. I shook my head but she persisted. I told her no, and with that she turned and yelled to no one in particular that I would die. She went back out the door and I could hear her ranting by the lottery ladies. Oh well, I thought. At the same time it reminded me about the guy on the bus with the Che belt buckle and Bible.

As I waited in line to sign-up I noticed a large framed photograph on the wall behind the desk. It was Tony Noriega, all dressed up in his general’s uniform when he was the commander of the PDF (Panama Defense Force). There he was, good ‘ol cara de piña, (pineapple face), all smiles before the 1989 invasion. It wasn’t surprising, really, to see his picture displayed so prominently in a place of business. After all, he is Panamanian and was the leader (dictator) of the country at one time. Many hated him, but there were others that supported him. He killed, but he never killed as many as Che was responsible for. He was a gangster, but not as bad as some others who were in power back then, or even now. But he put himself in the cross hairs of the US when the security of the Canal came into question. Little Tony ran Panama like Alphonse Capone. He was the Mouse that Roared and the US heard him and right or wrong, did something about it. I knew people that supported Noriega because they believed that he showed his defiance when he stood up to the “Colossus of the North.” And they didn’t like how Panama as a sovereign nation was invaded just to get one man and his inner crew. Most Panamanians don’t ever want to see him step foot back on their soil. Even so, I understand why some display his picture and will do so for years. Some do it just to be different from everyone else. Maybe it’s that rebel inside them.

But then I noticed another photograph, and this one really struck. It was also framed and about the same size as the Noriega picture. I certainly wasn’t prepared for it. It was a picture of Bin Laden. I know that Panama is a fairly tolerant society when it comes to religion. In Panama City for example, you will find a wide variety of churches, mostly Catholic, as well as synagogues and mosques. Even so, I really had to wonder why the owner of this Internet café (who most certainly had to know, and maybe even approved), allowed a photograph of Bin Laden on the wall. The picture of Noriega now seemed to take on a different significance.  Was this the expression of someone who was doing it for shock value? Did they do it because it was the exact opposite of what most reasonable people believed? Did they do it because they were anti-American and against anything America thought or stood for? Maybe they had lost a loved one during the invasion over twenty years ago.

It was time to pay and I asked for just thirty minutes instead of an hour. I dropped two quarters on the desk and moved to my assigned station. I sat down on a plastic chair with the back broken off and signed in. I needed to check a few things before heading off to Isla Taboga. As I logged in I found myself inexplicably turning my head to the left, toward the pictures of Noriega and Bin Laden. It was like driving by a horrendous car accident where you tell yourself, “Don’t look, don’t look,” but at the last second you can’t help yourself and you do look, and then you wish you hadn’t.

I checked what I needed to under the perpetual gaze of two notorious criminals, and every now and then I glanced back. I was done within fifteen minutes, logged off and walked out the door. My “friend” with the pamphlets shot me a look as I walked by. Before I turned a corner and headed down a side street I could feel eyes boring into my back.

Tomorrow’s another day…

The Miraflores Locks, or Pacific side locks, are the first locks when traveling south to north, or from the Pacific to the Atlantic. This might sound strange, but keep in mind that Panama is “S” shaped with Costa Rica to the west, and Colombia to the east. It’s also close to Panama City and Balboa. Any taxi driver knows how to get there. Just be sure to verify the fare before leaving.

The museum is filled with artifacts and exhibits from the early days of the French when Panama was still only a province of Colombia, to when the US took over operations. First-time visitors are amazed at just how big the Canal is, and the engineering feats that were needed to complete it nearly a century ago.

Along with the numerous displays is an outdoor observation deck overlooking the Miraflores Locks. From here you have a bird’s eye view of the lock, the mules (the cars that pull the ships through the locks) the Canal, and of course, the ships. If you get hungry, there’s an onsite restaurant.

Miraflores is the most visited, but there’s a lot more to the Canal. If you have time, it’s well worth a visit to the Pedro Miguel Locks near Gamboa, and then the Madden Dam. On the Atlantic side you’ll find the massive Gatun Locks.

View of the Canal from the observation deck

Miraflores Museum entrance

Map overview of the Canal

French Odyssey plaque

Workers from around the world

Worker’s plaque

Heroes of the Canal plaque

Surveyor

Steam powered digging

Laying track

Model of an old boat dredge

Miraflores Locks

Mule

View of two ships in the locks from the obseravtion deck

My daughter’s friend playing with the jaws of a shark

Flamenco Yacht Club

Flamenco Marina

Flamenco Marina

Shops

Shipyard

Flamenco Marina

Mr. Bull, former President’s boat

Pacific Queen party boat

Relatives at Lago Alajuela

There’s an ingredient in Panamanian society that I just can’t put my finger on, but without it, life wouldn’t be the same. It’s that ingredient that makes a soup good or excellent. It’s that smile that makes a painting just a painting, or a work-of-art. And it’s that ingredient that has intrigued me over the years. What is it?

The first anniversary of my Panablog was during my father-in-law’s funeral. He passed away at the age of eighty-eight. He knew the land, the sea, the weather–as well as he knew his children. In my mind, he was Panamá. He is greatly missed, and I think of him often.

I want to thank all of you who have stopped by to read a posting, view a picture, or leave a comment. As with all travel, it’s good to be a little cautious, a little skeptical, a little inquisitive, and follow your instinct in uncertain situations. But most of all–study your destination before you go. I hope that I’ve shed some light on traveling through the Isthmus.

Thank you.

Isla Verde

Hostal Refugio del Rio

Hostal Boquete

Highlands

From La Artilleria — A man’s profile

View of Volcán Barú from La Artilleria

Tree in a tree

Mountain Horse

Campesino

Monkey Rock — Can you see a face?

Holiday tree decorated with presents on Isla Taboga

Some homes might have Christmas trees, but in the rural areas you’re more likely to see small, handmade nativity scenes made from dirt, grass, and miniature figurines. Christmas is a time when the large, extended families share their food and drink. There’ll be plenty of traditional food made with rice, chicken, and plantains. There’ll also be a lot to drink. The nance berries are ripe, and many families make a very tasty juice known as chicha de nance. Another drink, Seco Herrerano, is clear liquor made from sugarcane. Locals might ask the bartender for nueve letras, referring to the nine letters that spell Herrerano.

Christmas in San Miguelito

While traveling in Panama you’ll see life-sized muñecas (dolls) outside of homes or on roads. Some are wonderfully creative and you can actually understand who the effigy represents. Typically, they are well- known people such as politicians. On New Year’s Eve, along with fireworks and drinking, the muñecas are burned, representing the end of the previous year.

After the New Year celebrations finish, Panamanians begin to focus on carnaval, which begins the weekend before Ash Wednesday, and as such, the date changes from calender year-to-year.

¡Feliz Navidad! While in Panama, have a SAFE and Happy Holiday.

At the end of this historic area is a large seawall near the French Embassy. When the tide is low, you’ll see kids down below looking for shellfish. I’ve gone out there a time or two myself. This is also near the San Felipe District where there’s a fish market. You’ll know when you’re close because of the smell, and the large black birds.

For more pictures, please visit the Casco Viejo Gallery under PAGES.

The Casco Viejo and seawall

Seawall stairs

Fish market near The Casco Viejo