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FYI: I found out that I can get text messages in Panama for free. It costs 50 cents to send a text. So if you need to reach me or want to say Hi feel free to text...

Happy Birthday Cha Cha Cha

Sunday was Meivis´s birthday. So on Saturday I ventured to the biggest supermarket I could find in hopes of finding the ingredients to make my mom´s yummy pumpkin cake. No luck, even when I looked up pumpkin in Spanish and successfully asked where a can could be found, I was let down when I was assured they don´t carry canned pumpkin in Panama. A search of the canned section confirmed this.

My next idea was a delicious pineapple upside down cake with delicate powdered sugar frosting made with the juice of the pineapple. I found the cake mix, the canned pineapple, but only granular and brown sugar. Even with somewhat successful translation I couldn´t find any powdered sugar. Later Meivis assured me she had never seen powerdered surgar in any stores.

I bought the cake mix anyways faintly remembering that you can make frosting from regular sugar on the stove. How, I dunno? I figured I would pop into the Internet cafe Sunday Morning while the cake was baking and Google it. I didn´t realize that on Sunday everything would be closed. Yikes.

Next option... Call mom of course. I called my mom and with her and her best friend Alice´s help we decided that yes I could make frosting on the stove and Alice described the process. I was limited on time, so the frosting didn´t turn out like I had pictured. The cakes on the other hand were gorgeous. Possible the best I have ever made. I was limited on supplies and only had access to a toaster oven. However, using a small casserole dish and a sauce pan missing the handle, I made two cakes.

I was a little anxious when I dribbled the sugar-pineapple juice concoction onto the cakes, but I had little choice. I took the bigger of the two cakes with me to Meivi´s sister´s house where we were celebrating with a Panamanian style Sunday afternoon BBQ. The house was small but luxurious. They had a new kitchen, flat screen TV and a mini pool in the back yard. At the back of the yard was a rancho (pretty much the roof of a beach style hut) complete with a mini pool table, bar and BBQ pit.

Just like a BBQ at my dad´s there was plenty of meat. There was also a basic Panamanian chicken rice dish and the best potato salad I have ever had in my life.

Once we got to the party I realized I should have brought both cakes. There were over twenty people there, including several of Meivi´s sisters and their spouses, kids, babies, and a few teens. At first I was worried I would end up being a wall flower while Spanish was whirling around. However, most of the people there spoke some English and several were fluent in not only Spanish and English, but also French and Portuguese. We sang Happy Birthday three different times...



I talked to the husband of one of Meivi´s friends and it turned out he was a Panamanian attorney slash business man slash pilot. We spent a while comparing the two systems, how you become a lawyer in the two countries, etc. It was insightful. I also played some pool, talked to a parrot, ate three servings of carne asada and so much chordizo I lost count.




When it came time for the cake and candle, I was worried about the sketchy frosting. My worries faded when I herd the sounds `um´ and `wow.´ Score! The cake was a big hit.



As a birthday present, I took Meivis to get a pedicure andmanicure in a salon, not on the streets :) I got just a pedicure myself. They didn´t have the comfy vibrating chairs or any Vietnamese women and I am pretty sure my cuticles were removed not just cut... My big toes were sore for two days. I was also worried because I saw that their serialization method was essentially putting the dirty utensils in some hot water and swishing. I shouldn´t have expected more considering the pedicure was only $3. I have examined and reexamined my toes in search of gangrene, keeping in mind that my health care ran out on the 12th and hoping that the Cipro I brought could kill toe bacteria. It´s been several days now and I am pretty sure I´m safe. The pain is almost gone...

Jeeni minus cuticles

A working girl again...

After making a big stink about being photographed, I think I may have agreed to be in a commercial... What am I selling you ask? Traditional Panamanian sweets or dulce.



What am I wearing you ask? Traditional Panamanian dress.




Jeeni

Body Language

It turns out that I am multilingual after all...

Meivis´s younger sister Amarilis invited Meivis and I to go to the discotec, or in other words, clubbing! When Meivis asked me if I was interested, I was elated. Even one night of dancing would justify bringing the heals I somehow squeezed inside my hiking shoes when packing.

Getting ready for a night on the town was just like at home. Make-up, asking `does this match?´ (Amarilis changed her entire outfit at least four times), hair straightening, the perfect earrings, perfume, and of course snide comments from Meivis´s little brother who was bummed he had to stay home and babysit. I ended up selecting the only heals I brought, jeans (also the only ones I brought) and the closest thing I had to a night on the town shirt, a black tank top with some lace. The girl´s night clothes weren´t much different than their day clothes. ´

On the cab ride to the club, the girls asked me if I knew salsa or marangay... I shock my head while saying `uh-uh´ and they looked worried. Meivis assured me they would teach me, but she didn´t seem confident. In my mind I was picturing the salsa club in Along Came Polly with Ben Stiller and Jennifer Aniston where everyone was a pro.

What I found when we got to `Moods´ discotec was just like at home, but with a few twists. First most of the music was in Spanish. Yet, when I paid attention I realized they were playing everything from MC Hammer´s You Can´t Touch This to Madonna´s latest hits. Most of the familiar beats had Spanish lyrics, but a few were actually in English. The music was nothing like the Spanish music coming from my dad´s neighbor´s backyard on Sunday afternoons. Second, girls on the left, boys on the right, with a few exceptions. Third, beers and shots were only $3. Finally, no tipping necessary.

After doing the obligatory preliminary assessment of the layout of the club, the music, the people and their moves, I started to feel confident. However, when I asked the girls if they were ready to grove they looked at me like I was crazy. As became apparent, they needed a few beers in order to shake their tail feathers. I on the other hand dance my best when sober. After about an hour of watching and a few moves and shakes I just couldn´t hold back even though we were on the side lines, I convinced Meivis to hit the floor. Amarilis would need a few more beers and a shot of tequila. After dancing a few songs, we went back over to where Amarilis was standing and blushing, putting her hands over her face. I was think I had totally embarrassed myself with my Jeeni spiced Latina moves and I was questioning if I had gone too far with my mime-like lasso move to Amarilis on the side line.

Meivis spoke with her sister in Spanish. Laughing, she then told me her sister thinks I dance better than the both of them. I assured them if this was true it was due to my many, many years of practice. Cat Club, Kels, Holly Cow, Endup, Ruby Skye, Fat Cat, the list goes on...

Finally, I got both girls dancing and we had a great time. The Panamanian men were very respectful. Instead of scootching over to you and attempting to hump your leg like at some clubs back home, they actually asked you to dance and then it was like dancing with a grandpa with style.

The only hiccup we ran into were some US marines. Two men came over and tried to talk to us in broken Spanish. When it was my turn to answer ´De done eres?´ (where are you from) I shocked them when I said California. Apparently they had though I was from Panama. If fact several people had come up to Mevis throughout the night and asked if I was Panamanian.

I soon discovered that Meat-head was from San Jose, CA and Knuckle-head was from Colorado. Right away I thought they were trouble. They were the only ones in the entire club who had that misplaced confidence that can only be obtained by being a American marine, with too many $3 shots pumping through their veins.

I tried to warn Meivis and Amarilis, but `carne cabezo´ wasn´t translating well. Meat-head raised his camera to take pictures and I said `no.´ However, when Amarilis struck a fabulous pose and Meivis just smiled I didn´t want to be a prude so I stepped into the background and smiled. But when the guy tried to take covert pictures of us when we started dancing, I wasn´t having it. I asked him to stop. Just to show me his red, white and blue power he took another picture. I snatched the camera from him and attempted, but failed to delete the pictures.

Earlier Knuckle-head had bragged that they were two of only four marines that worked at the American embassy and had gone into detail about where they were living claiming that they had the best party house in town (a mansion close to the embassy, US dollars well spent I´m sure.) Knowing their names and exactly where to find them I knew that Meat-head wouldn´t do anything stupid because I could go straight to his immediate boss and all the way up to Bush if necessary. I was self-assured by the fact that I am an recovering law student AND my Lonely Planet book has the American embassy clearly marked on the Panama City map, local phone number and all!

There was a tense moment when Meat-head demanded his camera back. I agreed to give him the camera on the condition I wear it around my wrist like a bracelet while he deleted the pictures in front of me and then I would magically release it by unlocking my iron clad double handed clasp, learned from my 8th grade wrestling coach. The pictures weren´t bad or anything, I just didn´t want to me the Friday Night Special on some Marine´s Myspace. Weighing his options, Meat-head obliged and poof his camera was free to molest other women. Knuckle-head pouted when Meat-head said `let´s bounce.´

After dancing for nearly 5 hours, we took a cab home. In the cab, Meivis asked me why I was afraid of cameras. Note: I had also spent the entire night avoiding a cameraman following a beautiful TV host around while she interviewed discotecers for a nightlife TV program. Amarilis had of course given an interview while striking the perfect pose. Did I mention Meivis and her sisters are all georgous? Over and over I ducked and dodged the camera much to the sexy host´s dismay. I think I was especially desirable because I was the only blond in the place, or it could have just been my moves... Even back home I always avoid those expose night life documentors. It´s just not my thing.

Overall the night was a blast. I haven´t worn heals since my graduation so my legs were sore for several days. However, I woke up hang-over free having had only three Miller Lights and one `let´s get Amarilis to dance´ shot.

Jeeni the Intrepid Rug Cutter

Where is Waldo AKA Jeeni

Life goes at a much slower pace here. Since the goal of this trip was to recover from law school and the bar, the pace is just what I needed. The weather is not as bad as I anticipated. It is always between 80 and 95, clouds mean less heat, but more moisture. I looked up a nifty formula so I can translate Celsius into Fahrenheit (all the thermostats are Celsius). When it rains several times in a row, it really cools down, but everything is sloshy wet. During particularly hard rainfalls the streets essentially turn into rivers. From Meivis´s three story window I can look down and it appears that we are on river front property. People and cars disappear suddenly. As soon as the rain stops, the people and cars return and the water drains away rather quickly. The garbage bins here are metal cages welded to two feet tall posts. This keeps the garbage in check when the streets flood.

I have been making adjustments to my wardrobe in order to fit in and be comfortable. Rather than wearing my REI zip off jungle pants, I bought myself a smoking hot pair of knock off Bebe shorts for only $10. Over the weekend I went shopping with Meivis and her sister Tita. We took a taxi ($1.75) to a market, essentially a long blocked off street with shops, street vendors, blaring music of all kinds, hundreds of lotto sellers, and street pedicures. It was fantastic. I have some pictures of the street pedicures and the lotto sales I will post when I remember to bring my USB cable to the Internet cafe (I remembered!) The reason for the shopping excursion, besides getting me some camouflage was that Tita needed a new bathing suit for our planned trip to the beach.




Let me point out that there is a great deal of diversity here, with one exception. Gringos! Yup, there are very few white people. We stopped to get some soft serve ice cream on our shopping excursion and a little boy came up to me asking for food in Spanish. I said no and he ran off. It was at that moment when I realized out of thousands of people working, walking, selling, dealing, singing, shouting, laughing and just milling about, I was the only whitey in site. I didn´t feel uncomfortable at all. There are all sorts of Latinos, blacks, and even Chinese and mix of every combination in Panama. I feel at home, especially growing up part of my life on the west side and then later living in Berkeley, Oakland and San Francisco. Plus I am used to hearing Spanish, albeit a more ghetto version. No one here says 'ay way' or 'ese'. I pointed out the diversity phenomenon to Meivis and her sister and they laughed. Tita pointed out that her son six year old son with us was very white-looking and it was possible people thought I was a lighter Latina. I was flattered.

The market was an interesting people watching playground, but the merchandise was nothing special. Since Panama has the canal, they have tons of knock off and boot leg products. Most of the stuff is pretty crappy. In a shoe store, Meivis´s brother was checking out some Michael Jordan's and telling me 'muy bonita'. I picked one up and discovered the rubber soles to be much too stiff, the stitching sloppy and the overall quality very poor. Nonetheless, the price tag was $60, a discount compared to a similar, yet real pair back in the states. The only other thing I bought was the ice cream, the shorts and some new cheaply priced hanker chiefs.

I feel like I am getting used to most things here. For example, I no longer gasp when I jump in the shower (there is no hot water in the house). However I still giggle when everyone is watching TV. They play movies here in English with Spanish sub-titles, but they don´t bleep anything. So it´s f-this and f-that right on regular cable. At first I wondered in anyone else realized that the actors were cussing, but then I read the sub-titles and saw that it was being translated into the first words I learned in Spanish... You can guess which ones.

I am off to my second day of Spanish lessons. Hasta luego.

Jeeni