A Strange Few Days
It was a strange couple of days on the other side of the Bridge of the Americas. Well, maybe not so strange since it was in Panama and one tries to get used to strange. But even though you get used to seeing some pretty weird things, some days can stick out. Every day can be adventurous. You never know what you might see. And at the start of this day, I didn’t know it would begin with Ché, and within 48 hours also include Noriega and Bin Laden.
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.
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