Feb 2010 Survey - Panama City, Panama

How to write about Panama…? Superficial impressions of Panama City remind me of Miami: sky-scrapers, car-necessary, water/beach, sun, designer-wearing glitterati nightlife hanging out in the hotel lobby-turned lounge… well, my Miami stereotype is based on flying over the city and TV shows, so the comparison may be totally inaccurate. Anyhow, I felt out of place the whole time I was in Panama… as well as physically out of sorts thanks to my messed up digestive tract. Panama City provoked the same insecurities that I would get in Eastern Europe, so that by the time I left I felt terminally under-dressed and under-class. Perhaps if I had had a Couch Surfing contact in the city, I would have had a better sense of belonging. I did have dinner on my last night with another Couch Surfer from Guatemala who was also in Panama on business. We had very different music tastes, as evidenced when he me sang an Iron Maiden song to see if I would recognize it… :)

View of the Panama City skyline from the Causeway.

You hear Panama and what do you think of? That’s right: the Panama Canal. It takes 8-10 hours to traverse the Canal. As ships travel from the coast to the canal’s inland mid-point, they have to gain I think 20 meters in altitude by going through the locks, and then lose those 20 meters again heading toward the opposite coast. The Miraflores Locks are closest to Panama City, and they’ve turned it in to a big tourist complex with a museum, restaurant, and viewing deck (which is surprisingly expensive!!). I went to the viewing deck to watch four yachts and catamarans pass through with a very enthusiastic Disney-esque bilingual explanation of how it all works. The Canal defines so much of Panama—its tourism, its economy, its international image. And they’re currently expanding the canal so that it can accommodate even bigger ships.

Losing elevation in the Miraflores Lock (vs. the far side that filled with water for ships going the opposite direction).

I got a different experience on the Canal when I escaped the city to spend the weekend in the Gamboa Rainforest Lodge. It’s a beautiful property that’s about 40 minutes outside of Panama City by the man-made Gatun Lake, one of the biggest man-made lakes in the world where nature and technology/industry are right smack on top of each other.

The view from my balcony at dawn.

I went on the lodge’s Monkey Island tour, mostly because it includes a boat ride in the canal to get to the island. We bounced along in a speedboat, zipping past massive cargo ships.

Zipping on our way to the Monkey Island...

...to see a capuchin monkey.

I also went on the resort’s aerial tram to a lookout point that gives wonderful extensive views over the canal and surrounding rainforest.

From the tower at the top of the aerial tram, watching a container ship traveling the Canal.

Although my favorite activity was kayaking on the Chagres River. It’s only the second time I’ve gone kayaking, but I found it very calm and peaceful. It enables you to get up close to the shore and the wildlife. And the splash of water was refreshing in the heat and humidity. And I like the mechanics of moving a two-person kayak.

The area has a lot of good wildlife, especially birding. I went on a 6:30 AM birding trip along the Pipeline Road, supposedly one of the top 10 best birding spots (in the world? In Latin America??) The road was built by the Americans for access to a pipeline when they owned/ran the Canal, but now the pipeline is no longer used and the road has become a big birding destination.

Birding is difficult. It’s like a 3D moving version of Where’s Waldo when you’re not exactly sure what you’re looking for and you’re trying to find it based on your guide’s directions:

“Do you see this tree?” (Gestures to an area with dozens of trees) “Follow the third branch up and when it breaks off to the left…” (I still don’t even know which tree she’s talking about, let alone which branch) “And… oh… it flew away.” (Curses!)

Couldn't photograph anything on the Pipeline Road, but this little fella was outside my room. I believe this is a Crimson-collared Tanager.

I did improve in finding fist-sized birds in a wall of thick rainforest foliage… but once I found them with my eyes, the next challenge was to find them in my rented binoculars. And if you can get that far, it’s very rewarding as they are beautiful and so vibrantly colorful… but then your neck starts to hurt from craning upwards while walking in the increasingly hot and humid sun for 3 hours. All things told, we saw almost 2 dozen different bird species, as well as howler monkeys and monarch butterflies. The monarch butterflies acted as our personal escorts, one or two almost always flying ahead of us and back, these brilliant flashes of blue caught in the sunlight.

Otherwise, Gamboa was a weird experience. If Antigua is the solo traveler’s paradise where it’s easy to meet people, Gamboa was a real challenge: it’s an all inclusive resort frequented by families and retired and/or romantic couples. As far as I could tell, I was the only one there alone. I met people through the tours mentioned above, but I felt like an intruder in their vacations. I also realized that I’m not really the resort type of person. Yes, the pool was amazing and yes, the grounds were beautifully manicured and yes, there was a lot to see and do… but I felt out of place.

Back in Panama City, I did a whirlwind tour of the other tourist highlights, specifically Casco Viejo which was the original city before it expanded into this Canal-driven metropolis.

The horizon of Casco Viejo, seen from across the bay.

Panama hats on sale in one of Casco Viejo's squares.

Unfortunately, I was starting my burn-out while I was there. The city and the country grew on me more and more in retrospect, after I left.

Feb 2010 Survey - San Salvador, El Salvador

Yes, there was a civil war in El Salvador... but I don't know enough about it to really say anything. I visited the Museo de la Palabra y la Imagen in San Salvador; they have a powerful collection of photographs from the civil war, especially focused on the rebel radio station, Radio Venceremos. Once again, this survey made me realize how much I don't know about world events that have happened within my lifetime.

The view from my hotel room... the San Benito suburb of San Salvador.

Downtown, with the post-earthquake-reconstructed-dome and towers of the cathedral.

People on the street were very friendly and open (one woman gave me her phone number and invited me to dinner after a 5 minute chat as we both waited for our lunches at a crepe stand), probably the most welcoming of all of the cities on this survey. Well, people were friendly throughout the survey, but here it felt more genuine, like there were no tourist/tip-related ulterior motives and the only thing in it for them was kindness. Although the city still has a lot of safety paranoia and, like Guatemala, is well armed. Armed guards were once again the norm.

The personal transformation that had begun in Guatemala continued in El Salvador. As I talked to other travelers, I started to form a clearer idea in my head of the kind of traveler that I am: what my priorities are, what my non-negotiables are, what I enjoy, being aware of the unnecessary pressure I put on myself. I think that in San Salvador I became less apologetic for who I am. With travel, I often put pressure on myself to be "better"... which by my interpretation means to take advantage of where I am, to be more proactive, to be more energetic, to be more open, to be more daring, to take more social initiative. No matter how a survey was, I always feel that I failed somewhere and that I could have done "more"... always more. And when I meet people who I consider to be "better" travelers, my own shortcomings are all the more highlighted. But on this survey, I started to realize that the other end of the spectrum isn't necessarily better and that I don't need to attach a judgment there... that my travel style is OK no matter how much posturing others do.

I met several "hardcore" travelers in Guatemala and El Salvador--all of them bikers, actually, riding their motorbikes down the continent. One guy in Antigua, Guatemala was 1.5 years into an around-the-world-by-motorcycle-trip: he had already ridden across Europe and Asia, shipped his bike to the Americas and was taking Spanish lessons in Antigua before continuing south with his wife who had been left behind for the bulk of his trip. He was fascinating to talk to, but I realized during our conversation that, as impressive and amazing as his journey has been, it is not something that I would enjoy. I am very home-oriented. I need my roots (well actually, at this point just to create and solidify roots!!!) and I need to feel that I belong somewhere. To constantly be on the move like that would wear me down. Perhaps this is the survey-fatigue talking; perhaps traveling with a partner would provide the stability I would need to be able to enjoy the wandering. I'm all for exploring the world, but I'm always happy to come home at the end.

A lot of the public buses are actually old American school buses that have been redecorated, like so.

My experience in San Salvador was mostly a people one, once again thanks to Couch Surfing. I didn't have enough free time to do a big trip out of the city, although I did go with some Couch Surfing friends to a restaurant in the mountains. We drove along winding roads to watch the sunset on a ridge in the valley beyond the city. It was beautiful and calm. But my Spanish was starting to disintegrate so by the end I generally took on a listening role, finding it too taxing and unsatisfactory to speak as I couldn't express myself the way I wanted to.

The mountains at dusk.

My other Couch Surfing connection came by the way of two other bikers on a trans-American journey. I ended up spending my free Sunday afternoon with one of them on the beach near San Salvador, which included my first round trip motorcycle ride. The ride was a lot of fun and very freeing with the wind and the sun. At one point, I could just imagine letting go of the back-handles and raising my arms. If I had been a flying squirrel I would have lifted right off into the sky.

My new traveling buddy enjoys a pupusa on the beach. I picked him up in Guatemala and he's very photogenic.

I would love to come back and explore more of the country. It still feels genuine and natural, like tourism hasn't altered it yet. Although they use the US Dollar as their currency, which is a bit disorienting... but definitely easier.

Feb 2010 Survey - Guatemala City, Guatemala

Well, I did an appalling job at maintaining this blog on the road! I attribute that to enjoying the survey too much to take the time to write... and then crashing and burning by the end... I'm back in Brussels now and will do my best to capture the experiences several weeks later. My apologies if I mess up some of the facts below as ideas and impressions have blended together. After a survey, I feel so disconnected from the trip (even within a survey, the first cities seem as from a different lifetime), like it was someone else who went to all of those places. As if my photos are the only proof that I was actually there...

So... Guatemala City... it has a bad reputation for safety; I heard a statistic somewhere that there are 20 murders a day in the city. I was advised to take taxis, to not go alone, to not walk at night... as it was, my experience in Guatemala City was very sheltered. I stayed in the Zona Viva (in Zona 10) where all of the big name hotels are located and, except for a curious morning jaunt into the center of town, never left Zona 10 or its environs as that's where the survey was located. It's the wealthy part of town, with armed guards every block and every store front... particularly come nightfall. And when I say armed, I mean they've all got rifles the length of a small child slung across their chests. I found the constant presence of guns a little unsettling, since the most I ever see in Brussels is a policeman with a subtle pistol. Most of the guards doubled as doormen and looked a little bored.

I planned a free weekend in Guatemala and spent it in Antigua, the former capital of colonial Guatemala. I really enjoyed the benefits of traveling alone here and probably enjoyed the town more than if I had been with someone. Being alone made me more open to meeting people, and there were plenty of other travelers to meet. It's such a backpacker hub that it's easy to meet people as they connect through to other places or stay to take classes at the many language schools. I went in with a full weekend planned, thanks to Elizabeth Bell of Antigua Tours, the Academic Coordinator for Elderhostel's programs in Guatemala. She gives a very informative walking tour of the old town... unfortunately the details escape me now... but the general idea is that Antigua was the capital of "Old Guatemala" from the 16th to the 18th Century. However, it's in a valley with volcanoes and the government relocated to what is the current Guatemala City after a few too many earthquakes. So now it's a quaint, colorful colonial town with cobblestone streets, where every building seems to be either a hotel/hostel or a travel agent. And these are all beautiful old family homes with courtyards and balconies. There are ruins scattered throughout the town, many of churches. Tourism supports the bulk of Antigua's economy.

Typical cobblestone street pre-Valentine's weekend traffic.

The iconic clock tower on la Calle del Arco.

Ruins at the Hotel Casa Santo Domingo.

After touring the old town center, I went to visit a coffee plantation. While I do speak Spanish, I requested to have the tour in English, which turned out to be a private tour as I was the only one. So I got a really thorough explanation of how the coffee plants are grafted and grown, how the beans are harvested, shelled, dried, and ground. I'm actually a tea drinker, but since Guatemala is a big coffee country, I figured, "When in Rome..." And I learned a lot, and the sample coffee did taste yummy with milk and sugar :)

Grafted plants in the nursery, growing in anticipation of being planted. They graft the Arabica and another coffee species together to get the best of quality and quantity... I wish I had taken notes to remember the specifics. Oh well.

The coffee plant in bloom. The flower falls off, leaving behind small buds that will grow into the beans that will be picked.

Coffee beans drying in the sun, destined for a lower-quality coffee as they are a mix of the ripe (red/brown) and less-ripe (yellow/green).

The highlight in Antigua for me was climbing the Pacaya Volcano. It's an active volcano about an hour outside of Antigua. You can climb high up to where the lava comes out (lower than the summit). Our group, the Pumas, did just that. It's a beautiful hike, although a little treacherous when we hit the volcanic rock:

The crunchy volcanic rock/hardened lava looks just like... that's right... giant cow patties.

Our goal: the lava... handy for roasting marshmallows. Also comparable to being in an oven.

Our guide was planning to throw one of us in to the volcano as an offering... as it was Valentine's Day, he joked that it would be one of the single ladies. Instead he took our pictures by the lava as we danced around on the hot rock in order to avoid melting the soles of our shoes.

The path through the volcanic rock and the view across the valley.

I really loved my time in Guatemala. I felt like I really came into my own, especially during the weekend in Antigua. I met some wonderful people and really enjoyed myself. It's my 6th survey and something finally clicked. I know how to do this now, this whole traveling alone thing--not just working, but traveling traveling.

Feb 2010 Survey - Cayenne, French Guiana

I guess it’s a given by now that I get cold feet in the week leading up to a survey where I intensely do not want to go. The taxi comes to take me to the airport and I would just as happily stay home for the month… but the wheels have already been set in motion and it’s too late to back out, and so I let the momentum take me into a situation that feels so much out of my control. I know that I will be fine once I settle into the pace of the survey, but those first steps are always the hardest--as it is, I woke up on my second day and it felt like I'd been traveling for weeks already. My heart sank when I realized I still had well over a month to go. Two landmarks with this survey are (1) it is my first absolutely totally solo survey whereas I’ve always had another colleague with me for a portion of my other surveys. (2) I am using Couch Surfing to find social connections in the cities that I am surveying. I’d thought about doing this for a while but never got around to it… www.couchsurfing.org

So, Cayenne, French Guiana. There are three Guianas: Guiana, Suriname (Dutch Guiana), and French Guiana, all on the northern Atlantic coast of South America, neighboring Brazil. French Guiana is one of France’s Departements D’Outre Mer, so it was for all intensive purposes just like being in France… in the hot, humid tropics in the rainy season: they use the Euro and French products dominate the supermarket shelves… there’s a mix of French and Creole cuisine… there’s a subtle French military presence as well as the benefits of the French state.

In January, there was a national referendum where the people had the option to take independence from France. Of the 30% of the population that voted, the majority voted to stay with France. Cayenne is small but incredibly diverse, although from what I was told the different communities don’t mingle that much. There are the Metropoles (people from France), the Brazilians, the Haitians, and a sizable Asian community including a lot of Laotian refugees. Food-wise this means that there are lots of yummy choices :)

La Place des Palmistes... AKA the center of town.

The work was a little frustrating as I never really adjusted to the stores’ 4 hour siesta from 12:30 – 4:30. The town had a very relaxed atmosphere… I didn’t see any buildings more than 4 stories high… buildings were colorful with big awnings to protect pedestrians on the sidewalk from the sun and the seasonal rain. It was good French practice before plunging into an otherwise all Spanish-speaking survey. People were friendly--except for the woman at the water company who was a total and absolute B*tch. We had a 10 minute circular conversation that was worse than pulling teeth and she eventually hung up on me… at which point I cried in frustration for all of the mean and unhelpful/stupid people who have stonewalled me on survey and who will undoubtedly stonewall me on surveys to come. Employees like her make me want to at the very least be nice, even if I can’t be helpful.

View of Cayenne from above... on a hill that might have been a restricted military zone... the signs weren't clear.

I was there in the weeks before Carnaval and went to a French-Guiana-specific event: La Soiree Touloulou. I’m not sure of the origins, but basically on the Saturday nights leading up to Carnaval, discos host these nights where the women dress up in a costume that covers them from head to toe so that you literally do not see a single bit of flesh. The disguised women are called “Touloulou.” It’s hot inside the disco and they’re all wearing masks, wigs, gloves, and rather bulky dresses… some go so far as to wear different-colored contact lenses and alter their voices when they speak so that they are unrecognizable. I went with someone I met through Couch Surfing. His girlfriend was in disguise and went before us so we didn’t know what her costume was… she came and sat down next to me late in the evening and I didn’t realize it was her until she started speaking! The game was then to see if *he* would recognize her :)

Les Touloulous

There are very strict rules at the Soiree Touloulou, and I was told that people who break these rules will be thrown out:
(1) The women ask the men to dance. The men have to say yes.
(2) The men are not allowed to approach the women.
(3) Women who are not in costume are allowed to attend but are NOT allowed to dance.

There was a bleacher seat section in the corner of the room where the femmes non-deguisees could sit and watch. That’s what I did, although I bounced in my seat as it was impossible not to dance with the energetic live band.

The room was packed with dancing couples.

Friday nights are the Soirees Tololo, with everything in reverse where the men are the ones in total disguise. Even though I wasn’t allowed to dance, it was great to just watch everything. It was refreshing to go out and not be approached by anybody… I felt pleasantly invisible, allowed to do my own thing (within the Touloulou rules). The disguise is a major power game and I wondered how the men felt when they had no idea who they were dancing with—not sure if it was a stranger or someone they actually knew—whereas the women knew exactly who they were and could choose their dance partners as they pleased.

My experience in Cayenne was largely defined by the people I met through Couch Surfing. Unfortunately my travel plans changed in the week before I left Brussels, causing me to lose 2 days in Cayenne (my original routing from Cayenne to Guatemala included a stop-over in Haiti… which of course was canceled due to last month’s earthquake, requiring totally different routing and travel days). I was sad to go, more than I’ve been for other cities. At the end of each city I always feel a sense of satisfaction for completing the survey and feeling at ease in a previously foreign place, but this one also had personal connections with people that I will hopefully see again. It was such a wonderful introduction to Couch Surfing that it makes me wonder why I didn’t try it earlier! It's certainly raised my expectations for future surveys.

On the beach where one of the CS-ers live. Playing with prints in the sand.

Feb 2010 Survey

I've got a few weeks to go until my 6th survey (wow--6 already!!) This time I head out to Latin America :) So if you know anyone who knows anyone (who...) then please pass along the contacts.

Cayenne, French Guiana (FEB 02 - FEB 07)
Guatemala City, Guatemala (FEB 08 - FEB 16)
San Salvador, El Salvador (FEB 16 - FEB 23... yaye another birthday in a supermarket!)
Panama City, Panama (FEB 23 - MARCH 02)
San Jose, Costa Rica (MARCH 02 - MARCH 06)

I'm looking forward to warmer weather and sunshine in the middle of winter! And Espanol (and French) and good music!

Nov 09 Survey - Amsterdam

I've been back for over 2 weeks now and still haven't written anything about Amsterdam. But know that, if Biscarrosse made me want to quit on the spot, Amsterdam made me re-fall in love with traveling and really excited for wherever the next survey will be. When people ask me about my favorite surveys, I usually differentiate between cities I most enjoyed while on-site, cities I would go back to on my own dime, and cities that I am grateful I had the opportunity to visit (i.e. that I most likely could not visit on my own since visas are really difficult to obtain). Amsterdam wins on all counts--although it's in the Schengen Area so accessibility isn't an issue. It’s the first city I’ve surveyed that I can really see myself living in. And it’s only three hours from Brussels by train, which made me constantly ask why we hadn’t come more often as a family (which apparently we did but I just don’t remember). Before this survey, I only had two concrete memories of Amsterdam: visiting the Anne Frank House as a child and coming to a Brown acceptance party with the Benelux Alumni as a senior in High School over 8 years ago. For all intensive purposes, Amsterdam was a completely new city for me.

One of many canals.

I felt at ease in Amsterdam in a way that I haven’t with previous surveys. It’s very… European… in a familiar way… with lots of canals… and Europeans… The only thing that took some getting used to was crossing the street as there are three different road systems that overlap each other. Clearly you have the roads for the cars, and then on the sides you have bike-lanes (which are really a whole second set of roads) and then overlapping all of this you have the tram lines. So crossing the street is no longer a simple exercise of looking both ways for cars, but now bikes and trams and taking into account the different speeds that they all move at and having eyes in the back of your head for the rogue biker that chooses to ride on the sidewalk in the opposite direction and then getting to the other side and realizing that you’re actually in the bike-lane and not back on the sidewalk quite yet. So really, the same rules that you use to cross the street in Africa apply here as well, namely Be Aware and Do Not Hesitate. And when I’m talking about bikers, there are swarms of them whizzing by, with equally unsafe mobile texting habits as car drivers. There are at least a dozen at any given intersection, none of them wearing helmets. But the whole system works surprisingly well… it’s like a chaotic conveyor belt where everyone seems mostly aware of their surroundings and are able to flow with and cross traffic without getting hurt. And given the organization of the city center, the best way to get around is by foot, tram, or bike. Leave your car at home.

The Mask (guy in orange), Death, and Darth Vader in Dam Square.

I think it also helped that we have an office in Amsterdam. I got to meet those colleagues for the first time and they were very helpful with suggestions on outlets and telephone calls in Dutch. Their presence gave me a sense of grounding that other survey cities lack: I wasn’t isolated in a foreign place. And people are so friendly in Amsterdam that I was randomly befriending strangers throughout the week. I mean, half of the streets of Amsterdam Centrum are populated by tourists, all consulting the same maps, using the same points of reference. People are open and approachable. Amsterdam reminded me of how positively spontaneous travel can be—something that I felt was missing in my last few surveys. It was the best possible way to end this survey.

I amsterdam, in front of the Rijks Museum, which is currently under renovation and only exhibiting a portion of its exhibit.

Nov 09 Survey - Biscarrosse

Every survey has a city that makes you want to crawl into a corner and die… or at the very least never go on survey again… Biscarrose, France was that city for this survey. It’s a town that’s maybe 100km southwest of Bordeaux. It’s a popular summer destination as the area has lakes, the coast, vineyards, Bordeaux, fun in the sun… and in the winter it has lonely rainy miserable versions of those things and a hotel with unreliable internet.

The church in the town center on the one day of glorious sunshine.

Anticipating bad weather and a quiet town, I viewed this survey as a bit of a retreat away from busy-ness and activity. And my family came here for a vacation many years ago, so theoretically I’ve already seen all there is to see (although I was too young to remember it, and there is some debate as to whether I was actually included in this family vacation or whether it was before my time). So I felt very little pressure to do much with my free time, and any thoughts I had about regional exploration were quickly drowned out by the almost constant rain/drizzle… and the need for a rental car that made my heart quiver. So I read a lot (I was totally engrossed in and overwhelmed by The Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffenegger. Really highly recommend it). Spider Solitaire, Jon Stewart, and NPR filled in the rest of the gaps.

The survey itself was a little awkward as, apart from the supermarkets, most of the stores are smaller local non-chains where you can’t subtly collect your prices. The stores are like as big as my living room and it’s just you and the shopkeeper—you can’t blend into the aisles or the crowds of shoppers. So when trying to price the International Herald Tribune, I didn’t have the heart to tell the shopkeeper that no, I didn’t actually want to buy it after he had already rung it up… Or when trying to price cigarettes at the convenience store, I just stood in front of the counter and stared at the wall of cigarettes, looking for my targets and trying to memorize a few prices while hemming and hawing when the shopkeeper asked me what I wanted. They probably thought I was a total idiot when I just smiled a “thank you” and walked out… or they were on to me. The smallness of Biscarrosse Ville became very apparent when the attendant at the furniture store asked if I was new to the area as she had seen me (stealthing) at the hair salon. If I were the paranoid type, I would think that all of the different shopkeepers were comparing notes and beginning to piece it all together…

I think that this was the first survey where I actually felt guilty about stealthing. In other countries, I could take advantage of whatever socio-economic-racial power dynamic that almost always put me on top and allowed me to be vague and noncommittal when people asked what I was doing. The power dynamics make it easier for me to control the conversation and ask my questions without properly answering theirs… or avoid their questions altogether if language is a barrier. However, manipulating that power dynamic raises a whole host of other moral questions that I really wrestled with. I won’t go into them now, but it worries me that I felt guiltier in France where there were no language barriers or power plays than I did in Africa where there were. Maybe it’s because I am able to lie by omission in Africa, which feels less malicious than outright lying to people who I feel a connection to, being Francophone Europeans and all.

Luckily I priced the stores on the beach on my one day of sunshine and got a 5 minute glimpse of the ocean.

I had one down day in the area due to the November 11 holiday. I spent it in Bordeaux as I was flying out the next day for Amsterdam from the Bordeaux airport. Now, my experience in Bordeaux was also rather disappointing, but I am more forgiving of this as the place has so much potential. I would definitely come back to Bordeaux, but only in the spring/summer and only with other people and only in a car. There is so much to see and do in the area when it’s not raining and when the museums are actually open.

Place de la Bourse.

One of the longest pedestrian shopping streets in Europe, aptly named Sainte Catherine.