As Promised... Pics From Girl's Night

The Girls.



Taking over the DJ station.



Kickin' it old school.



Tag team, back again.

Tree Trekin´

Today I did a zip line tour of the top of the rain forest. They had their own photographer, hence the high quality photos... We put on uncomfortable, yet safe looking gear and went through a brief training.



After the training we took a military style truck up the mountain.



Then we headed into the forest in search of the launching platform. Along the way one of the tour guides pointed out all sorts of weird mushrooms growing on rocks and trees.



When we got to the first platform, of course I wanted to go first. There rest of the tour party included an American couple from NY and two girls from Germany. With wide eyes, no one objected to me taking the lead.



It was so much fun.



I didn't get scared even for a second.





The longest line we zipped was 400 meters (over 1300 ft.)

There were a few lines that no one (even the guides) could get across without using a little muscle.



If it wasn't so expensive, I would have done it again a few more times.

Invasion of Metal Ugliness

After my coffee plantation tour, I got a little extra tour. I had asked my guide about where to eat and the local gardens. He took me around the tiny town and pointed out all his favorite eateries. Then he took me on a 5 minute loop through the country side to show me the two nearest gardens. I had him drop me at Mi Jarden es Tu Jarden (My Garden is Your Garden).



The garden is open to the public and free. I am really glad I didn't pay because I would have wanted my money back. The gardens were moderately pretty. There were streams, pounds filled with coy, and little brick pathways that crisscrossed all over, sometimes ending at nothing at all.











The part of the garden that was a disappointment was the "art work." Almost everywhere you looked there were these awful metal cutouts of various animals, people and objects. The cutouts were rudimentary and ugly. Each one was painted and reminded me of the clip art in original Microsoft Word.

They had everything from a cartoon moose to a evil looking devil man. The winner for the most hideous was a very large cut out of a blond woman pushing a lawnmower. She was wearing short shorts, because apparently that is the impression of what all white women would wear if given the choice. Her face was some sort of Picasso, but I am pretty sure the artist didn't mean her to look that way.





Here is one example, I didn't take many pictures of the metal ugliness, although looking back I should have for the funny factor.



These hunks of metal were everywhere. If there was a beautiful pond, then there would be a cartoon dolphin on a rusted mental stick in the very center. Even the trees had one dimensional metal birds hanging from the branches. It was pretty bad.

Coffee is a fruit?

One of the main reasons I came to Boquete, Panama was to go on a coffee plantation tour. I had read about tours that take you through every step of the process. They weren't lying!

I was picked up at exactly 9:00 a.m. on Sunday by a 29 year old native (Indian) Panamanian tourist guide named Carlos. I arranged the tour through my hostel. Unknown to me, they don't usually offer tours on Sunday. I was the sole tourista along for the ride, so I had my own private tour.



We began at one of the 10 farms owned by Cafe Ruiz. Carlos told me the story of how his mother was one of the natives who came to pick the coffee fruits and how this led to him working at the farm at the age of 11 and eventually becoming their main guide. Carlos is very passionate about coffee, loyal to the Ruiz family, and said everything at least three times. Everything. It was also pretty clear that Carlos was not a fan of the growing gated communities in Boquete. Many coffee farms are selling off their land to retires for quite a profit. I have to admit, Boquete seems like the ideal place to retire. The development is still saddening.

Here is a coffee tree.



The company claims to be eco-friendly and has a few certified organic farms. I was convinced. I was shown the coffee trees, which are not planted in rows. Rather, they are planted sporadically all around the hilly country side. They grow arabica coffee, which can only grow within a certain altitude (1300 - 1500 feet above see water) and requires lots of water, shade, and volcanic soil. There are only two places in the world where such coffee can be successfully grown. Boquete is obviously one of those places.

They have some special trees called geisha. This coffee sells for up to $500 dollars a pound. Holly cow.



I thought coffee grew in pods like a pea. Not so. A coffee tree takes up to 7 years to mature and begin producing little fruits that start out as dark green and then eventually look like small cherries. A tree can live and produce over 100 years. When you pop open the fruit, two and occasionally three coffee beans are discovered. They are slimy and white. Carlos insisted that I put one of them in my mouth and it was actually really sweet.





Because the fruit doesn't all ripen at the same time, the farm has harvesters come through and scour each tree every two weeks for several months. All of the fruit is picked by hand. Pickers earn 6.50/day including housing, electricity, day care and health care for the whole family. No one under 14 is allowed to work and those under 18 must be on summer break and obtain permission from their school and parents. Apparently this has only been in effect for the last 7 years. Coincidentally, the farm started taking their beans to international competitions about 7 years ago. I was informed that they have won the gold metal four times and the other three times other farms from Boquete won. Impressive. I was also told that women are allowed to get groceries and other necessities prior to the men receiving their pay checks. There are quite a fee AA meetings offered each week as well...

There is a volcano nearby, which provides volcanic soil. Here is a photo, but the top is covered in fog.



Its Panama, so its definitely wet. In order to get shade, the company has planted over 40 different varieties of trees and edible plants, which are scattered at random. All of the fruit is given to the workers. Many of the trees and other plants help add nitrogen to the soil. When trees are pruned, the debris is used at the processing plant for fuel to aid in the drying process. The large trees also attract birds. To prove this point, Carlos threw a rock at a random three and several brilliantly green parrots and other varieties of birds quickly took to the air. The birds eat insects, thus reducing the need for pesticide. Chickens run wild on the grounds providing fertilizer. Its a pretty well balances eco-system.

I got to see seeds being dried, germinating, budding in the nursery, and growing tall and strong.

Here is Carlos at the nursery.



Next we headed to the processing plant. Here the beans are floated. This involves submerging the beans in water. If a bean floats it is either infested with bugs or fungus. Not to worry, there is no waist in the harvest of coffee beans. The skins or peals of the beans are sent back to the farm to be mixed with the chicken poo as fertilizer. The floaters are sent to Folgers and Nescafe. In Panama, Folgers is referred to as Floaters and Nescafe as Notcafe. The sinkers are squeezed, fermented, washed, pre-dried, dried, aged for several months, pealed of a parchment like layer and also a very thin skin layer, sorted by size, shape, color, and density. Finally, the green little guys are sent to companies all over the world to be roasted. Apparently Pete's Coffee is a big purchaser (not of the floaters though).



Our next stop was the roasting facility. Only 10% of the coffee beans are roasted by Ruiz to be sold locally. I had to wear doctor's scrubs in order to prevent contamination of the facility.

At this stage of the everlasting tour, I was shown the uniquely designed bags from each of the farms. This allows the company to tell which beans are from where and keep everything separated. In addition, I saw the old school roasting machines, including the very first one used by 86 year old Mr. Ruiz himself (a old beat up pan and a spoon welded to a screw driver).



In the picture above I am standing next to the bagging machines. They inject nitrogen into the bags to keep the beans fresh.




After viewing the intimidating machinery, we headed over to a cabana like bar. Carlos stepped behind the bar like a seasoned bartender. This bar didn't have any alcohol. Rather, he began describing different scents from fishy to chocolate. I was given the smell test (sniffing various jars and identifying the scent). I passed with flying colors, correctly identifying each and every one. I was also given a gruesome, yet enlightening lecture and bad and good coffee. I learned that French roast is not the strongest and actually has less caffeine than most other roasts because the beans are roasted too long. European roast, a must lighter shade of bean, is one of the best flavors and has a higher amount of caffeine. According to Carlos, some coffee farms mix in bad beans, corn, and other materials in order to "fill" ground coffee. Thus, I was instructed to never ever under any circumstances buy ground coffee. I was grossed out to learn that a few farms, of course outside of Panama, are spraying their beans with cows blood in order to get the desired color that customers are demanding. Yuke to infinity.

The last stop of the tour was the Ruiz coffee shop, were I was given an espresso, a souvenir bag and some goodies including a bag of ground coffee, which now I don't trust. I also bought a bag of award winning (whole) beans. They better be worth lugging around Central America.

Note: you can tell a good espresso by dragging your spoon through the foam. If the foam immediately goes back together, your good to drink. If not, you got screwed.

Paradise

First morning in Boquete. I woke when my temporary dorm mate's alarm went off at 4:30 a.m. I had trouble falling back asleep. The room I am staying in is simple, has a slanted roof and a large window facing the river. When I arrived, I picked the farthest bed from the other dorm dweller and ended up sleeping in the crevice of where the sloping ceiling met the wall. With the sound of the rushing river and the ceiling looming over me I felt disoriented. Sometime around 6:30 a.m. I could have sworn I felt an earthquake.

When I finally woke I ran into a few hostel staff members and picked their brains for the best plantation to visit, where to eat, parks in walking distance, etc. I took notes, literally.

I decided to eat at a super cheap cafe where the locals outnumber the tourists. After my delicious $2.15 breakfast of scrambled eggs with veggies, toast and coffee, I strapped on my pedometer and took off down a country road I was told would lead me to friendly monkeys.

It was hotter than I had anticipated and the person who gave me directions had failed to mention the steep incline... for two miles. I hate inclines. I would rather walk three miles flat than one mile up hill. Needless to say, I arrived at Paradise Gardens, a privately owned animal rescue center and garden, dripping with sweat. As I entered the gate I saw a sign that said admission $5, but there was no admissions booth. There was however a beautifully landscaped drive way dotted with stone sculptures of various Panamanian animals.

When I got to the end of the driveway I happened upon a house surrounded by amazing plants and camouflaged animal habitats. I walked in amazement past an endangered hyacith macaw (a large brilliantly blue parrot with vivid yellow accents around his eyes and beak) in a large rolling cage and the happiest looking tamarin money with a leash attaching him to a zip line and a monkeys paradise.

Here is the little guy enjoying exploring my timbuk2 bag.



When I made it to the house there were several people sitting around a table on the porch having afternoon tea. I walked in expecting someone to ask for my fee or to great me, but everyone just went about their business. The porch included several cages and enclosures. I was finally greeted, but by a small green parrot who proceeded to shock me with his vast vocabulary and singing abilities.

As I was being awed by the parrot, a black howler monkey walked over to us, climbed up on a table and started helping herself to some bananas. I was so excited.

Finally the people on the porch started to take note of the stranger exploring their area. I was invited to have a seat and the howler monkey followed me. She climbed into my lap and started exploring my shirt, hair, the buttons on my clothes, etc. I fell in love instantly.

She nestled in and as I was petting and cuddling her she fell asleep. I was the most contented person in the world. I sat for almost an hour with a sleeping monkey in my lap. I was able to explore her hands and cute little face. I was surprised to find that the underside of her tail was made of the same skin as her little hands and feet. She was just the most adorable little creature.

Here she is sleeping in my arms.



Here she is, caught mid-yawn.



When she finally woke from her siesta, she leaned back into my chest, reached her long arms up through my hair and around my neck and used me to stretch. Next she just looked up at me yawning, playing with locks of my hair until she decided to leave me in search of more fruit. Beautiful.

I learned that the main goal at Paradise is to release animals into the wild. They had an extensive list of all their successful releases. I heard horrid stories of what some of the animals went through, especially the birds. I will spare the details. Here is the website for Paradise http://www.paradisegardensboquete.com/home.html.

After serving as a monkey bed, a wonderful older woman offered to take me on a tour. The tour lasted over 4 hours, a record according to all the other staff members!

My guide was Jennifer. Her and her husband are living in Panama while he is working on some projects. Jennifer volunteers at Paradise and was a plethora of information. Not only did I learn the animals scientific names, but also their pet names, how the arrived at Paradise, their favorite food, when they were leaving, etc. She also pointed out all the different types of flowers and plants during the tour. Plus she made me feel less crazy when she asked if I had felt the earth quake that morning. I knew it!

Here is a little monkey who was begging for back rubs.



The photo tour follows.

The entire grounds were meticulously manicured and landscaped. Here are a few of the beautiful plants.






Besides different varieties of monkeys, Paradise was filled with all sorts of exotic birds and several boarders (they watch privately owned birds while their owners are on vacation.)

Here one of the endangered hyacith macaws. Jennifer started singing to her and she immediately began dancing. On a whim, I busted out my iPhone and played Mercy by Duffy. The bird went nuts, dancing. For each new song she put her head as close to me as possible in order to listen. She would find the beat and start up a new dance. Jennifer vowed to bring a radio with her everyday from here on out.








This guy was my favorite. He preferred male vocals and did exotic dances all over his cage. Several times he tried to take my iPhone. I got a shot of him in the act. When I finally left his area, he threw an absolute fit.



The couple who ran the sanctuary each have their own specialty (besides loving and caring for animals). The wife is in charge of the garden and the husband had brought several crates of stones with them from England. He was an exert masonry. Here is one of his creations.



Here are two sleeping Marguy cats (leopards). While I was taking pictures, the front of my camera got caught on their cage and flew into their habitat. I thought `oops their goes my camera.´ Jennifer came to rescue and entered their area despite the hissing and possibility of getting attacked. My hero!



This adorable creature is a Kinkajou, also known as the honey bear. He kinda looks like a opossum with monkey hands and tale and a 5 inch tongue. Despite looking like he is going to eat my hand in the second photo below, he was the most docile and precious little guy. Every movement was in slow motion.





At the end of the tour, Jennifer and her husband offered to give me a ride home. Since it looked like it was going to rain, I gladly accepted.

When I got home from my dream like day at Paradise gardens I started talking to a hostal staff member from Belize. She was very interested in the process to become a lawyer and we talked for quite a while. Eventually some of her friends showed up and they invited me out for girl´s night. I agreed to go so long as I had time to change out of my monkey fur covered top.

There were five of us in all, from the US, Australia, Ireland, Belize, and one local Panamanian girl. My ears were in for a pleasureful night of accents from all over the world.

We started at a local place appropriately named Amigos. I had a rather expensive beer by Panama standards, a Guinness for $2.50. From there we ventured to a bar with an interesting African motif. Despite being in a town with a population of a few hundred, I randomly met a guy who transferred to my school for his last year and took the CA Bar in the same location. Small world. The conversation was short lived (lucky me, I didn´t feel like talking about school) when the girls moved us to the final stop of the night. A large hole in the wall discotec.

We befriended the DJ and had a little influence on the dance beats selected for the evening. Despite failing to pack proper dancing attire, I yet again found myself dancing the night away. I surprised myself... I was able to dance in flats? Tevas at that! I know it´s too crazy to believe, but my flat footed dancing even got rounds of applause. One of the gals took pictures and promised to email them to me. I promise to post them...

We all arrived back at the hostal at 4:00 a.m. The gal from Australia busted out a blender in the common kitchen and made everyone fresh pineapple rum drinks. These girls kept the party going! I finally crawled into bed at 5:00 a.m. Not a bad first day in Paradise.