No One Returns Phone Calls in Panama

Go figure?  Leaving a message on some one's phone is a waist of good breath.  No one returns calls.

Most Gringos don't either.  They go native pretty quick!

Even after 6 months of living in Panama, many of the cultural aspects are still to be discovered. The phone thing is just one of them.

The depth of differences is amazing.  

For the most part, locals think North Americans and Europeans are neurotic and they are probably right.  

Communication is big for us.  And, not for them.  If a local says they will call you, and whatever was supposed to happen doesn't, they don't call...after all, there is no reason to call, so why bother.

This is a huge source of upset for us gringos.  We want, no demand, communication and we want it now, now, now!  God help you if you defy us and don't COMMUNICATE.

Pick up that damn phone and call!

Or walk your sorry ass over here and SPEAK!

Do you get a glimpse of the neurosis?  

I can't help it.  It really upsets me when someone goes out of communication.  It can ruin my day, week, or in the case of Panamanian builder, several months.  

I know the score here.  Why oh why can't I stop this incessant upset with the lack of communications?  No wonder they think we (I) are neurotic.

I was in David today to see my lawyer.  I called yesterday to make sure she was working today. Like a fool, I went today without calling to double check.

Sure enough, when I got there, her office was closed.

Grrrrrr!!!!!

I called her and it was my lucky day, she answered.  She was delayed (Imagine being delayed in Panama!).  She said she would be there in 30 minutes.  I translated 60 minutes.

Waiting for her, I got some free time to walk around David.  After 3 blocks I was soaked with sweat.  This is one hot place!  

I stumbled into a coffee shop in the grand old Hotel Nacional and it is indeed grand.  With mighty air conditioning.  Hell, it could have been a dump and I would have been happy just sitting in front of the AC.

The next time I want to walk around David, I will start earlier!

I had to wait for 75 minutes for my attorney after she was 30 minutes late getting to the office. They refuse to make appointments so you arrive and wait until they're free.  

That's the way it is.  For doctors too.

All this takes some getting used to...and I'm not doing so well with some of it!

Ah, paradise.

Lights On!

What a thrill!

After all the crap we have been through, and all the crap we still have to endure, I saw the lights on in our house today...for the first time.

Granted, we were using a generator but we got it done.  In fact, we are able to move into our house from the electric stand point now.  However, we have no water, sinks, toilets, much less hot water, installed so it is a moot point.

But a pretty big club to use on our builder to get him to finish the house though.

I have been working on purchasing the right plugs and wire to make an extension cord to connect our generator to the house electrical box for several weeks.  This may sound simple but it is not.

To start with, their are dozens of different plug configurations available.  I located a really good electrical supply house in David.  Then, I got the generator manual on line and printed the specs for the plug.

They actually had this unusual plug.  But, don't you now it, it was not the right one.  The manual was wrong. So I had to return to Boquete to get better information.

I made a drawing of the female receptacle and took it back to the electric place, another trip to David of course.  They didn't have it.  He told me to get the numbers on the receptacle from the generator which would be better.  Hell, the numbers were so small I didn't even see them when I made the drawing.

That would require another trip to Boquete and back to David.  But, as we walked around PriceMart, we saw our generator and got the numbers.  What luck!

Back to the electric place and they had the plug.  Will wonders never cease!

So far so good. 

My friend who knows electrical systems, helped me wire it up.  He told me that every house he has worked on has had a short somewhere and required trouble shooting to get it working.  So I was prepared for a set back.

It worked perfectly the first time!  Every light, ceiling fan and outlet worked.

Now for an interesting phenomena in Panama.

We had been told by other people using our electrician that he was not trained and didn't know what he was doing.  There was a big long story about how his brother was the one who really knows, so the electrician would go back to the brother to get the scoop.  It this way, he would limp along, doing an inadequate job of it.   They fired him and got their own electrician to complete the work.

How does this happen down here?  The information floating around is flat out misleading at best, and preposterous at worst.

If I had listened to them, I would be in a real mess now.  This guy was great!  He wired a flawless system.

What more can you ask for?

It's Back!!!!!

The rage.

I was practicing music on my guitar last night.  This is an activity that takes 100% concentration and what pops up through all that concentration...

Rage!  At my builder, of course.  

Right out of the blue, during the second verse of the Indigo Girl's song Closer To Fine, rage. There I sit, iPod fired up loud, Indigo Girls blaring in my ear phones, pounding my guitar and rage finds it way into my mind.

Not good!

Over the last three weeks, we have not talked to him once.  We have received a few cryptic text messages that were incomprehensible.  Do those count as communication?  I think not.

We received a price and contract from Union Fenosa last week .  They are on the hook to get our electricity in 60 days (work days) which really means 4 months.

So the end is in sight!

As I look at the progress on our house, he won't get it done in 4 months.  There is no way.  You can't put a man working on our house one day every 2 weeks and get it done.  That is his track record.

It is time to give him an ultimatum.  I am wary of drawing the line in the sand.  This tactic is just as likely to backfire as to succeed but I'm so sick and tired of this shit!

We got a vague text message that we will meet him next Monday.  Like that will really happen. 

We owe him about the same amount of money that it will take us to finish the project by ourselves.  I am a little scared to pull out the big club and threaten to throw him off the project.  

I guess it's time to reach down and grab some existential, intestinal courage and LET HIM HAVE IT!

I am going to my house today with a friend to make the 220V extension cord to connect our generator to the electric box.  

We will have electricity today!  

Abiet, from a generator, but we will have it.  

Technically, we could move it tomorrow.  If, of course, the house was completed to the point we could live in it.  You know, with water and stuff.

But not!

So the frustration continues.

Goodbye to the King of Pop & Farrah Fawcett

Not a good day...

The top pin up poster girl of the 70's dies at age 62, to young in my book.

Then, the King of Pop dies at 50, well, I guess if you look at him--now--not back in the 70's and 80's when he was killing us with his dancing--something wasn't right.  But did it have to end in death at this young age?  Why not a stroke or a little insanity?  

Their deaths made me feel a little bit vulnerable to the terminal nature of life.  Somewhere in the hinter reaches of my brain, I know that we all die, but this sure brought it home.  

Believe it or not, this brings me to my point for this blog.

Two days at the beach just did not hit the spot.  I know, you are thinking, for crying out loud, how can you lay back on the beach and not have the best time of your life?

For me, vacations are earned.  You work at a job, tolerating this and that, going through some kind of personal hell, raising kids, meeting commitments for volunteer stuff, or serving this mighty world in some other way.  Then, you get a reward...vacation.

Well, I'm always on vacation, I'm retired.  Going to the beach just doesn't seem earned.  There are too many things I need to get done--or, worry about getting done...no house, poor communications down here, stuff and more stuff.

When I get this stuff done I can go to the beach.  Then I'll have earned it.

Never mind that it takes almost no time to do this worrying but some one has to do it!

So, I was tolerating the beach, preoccupied with not knowing what was going on, or better put, what was not going on with the house.

Yella on the other hand, loved the beach.  You see, she just finished a play that consumed all her time for weeks.

She needed a break.  I didn't.

Then these people die and it really hits home that I'm not doing much in the way of contributing to this life now.  Even with the worrying, I have a lot of time on my hands.

I miss it.  Being a contribution.  Having a purpose.  This retirement thing is not all it's cracked up to be...yet.

Da Beach!

When the going gets tough, the tough go to the beach.

Who knows what force of nature has kept us from the beach since Yella arrived in early February.  Insanity for sure.  There is nothing as relaxing as the beach.  When it's rainy in Boquete, it's sunny on the beach.

We had a little trouble getting out of Boquete Tuesday morning.  We were leaving after Spanish class at 10:30 but Tom, the resident genius, forgot to sign a check for Union Fenosa.  This was the check to GET THEM STARTED ON INSTALLING OUR ELECTRIC LINE. 

Just a minor detail.  We've only been waiting for this with abated breath for forever, or at least since February.

We were at the Union Fenosa office when it opened at 9 am to try to intercept the check before they sent it to the bank.  We weren't fast enough though.  They had already deposited the check at Banco Nacional down the street.

We ran down to the bank and asked a lady who speaks English if she could find the check so I could sign it.

This is where Panamanians shine.  She went into super helping mode and got the check.  I would challenge you to do this in the USA.  I signed it and we were on our way.  I would have kissed her but it would have freaked out the armed guard. (All banks and many other stores have armed guards--I don't know what they would do if confronted with trouble because they are just for show even though armed)

What a relief.  If we didn't get the check signed, it would have to wait until Friday, essentially losing another week.  We have already lost 5 months so more lost time would have rubbed salt in the wound.

The trip to Las Lajas Beach is about 2 hours, not bad, and a pleasant route to boot.  We arrived at the new Las Lajas Beach Resort at 12:30, just in time for lunch.

They are running a special for June so a room is $40 per night or $44 with tax, a great price for big new rooms with two queen size beds.

The place has an open air bar and restaurant on the beach side with a stiff sea breeze keeping it cool in the shade.  I love open air restaurants!

 

We had lunch.  Mine was a "Panamaina" fish dish which included rice and beans, salad and a generous portion of grilled fish.  It was great.  Price, $6.  Open air, the pounding surf and a cheap, delicious meal.

Now we're talking.

We did the beach thing...laying around, reading, napping...then time to eat again...

Perfect.

It started to rain in the late afternoon. Yella and I grabbed umbrellas and headed out for a walk on the beach in the rain.  Pretty cool.

This may be hard to believe but it was so cool it almost required a light jacket.  

Yella and I had dinner then played cards out in the open air restaurant until bedtime.  

We hit the sack with the window open, the surf lolling us to sleep.

Ah, the beach!

Knock Your Socks Off Theater in Boquete!

I don't generally like live theater.   

Sure, I've seen a few traveling Broadway productions playing in Colorado, and some of them were even good.  But local stuff, no thanks!  Amateurs, embarrassing, boring, tedious and self indulgent. 

The Vagina Monologues knocked my socks off!  It was mesmerizing, touching and funny.  

I have seen most of the actresses in previous productions and, except for one, I was not impressed. 

So, how have past performances been lacking and this play was tremendous, with each performance at a professional level?

Most likely the director...and giving credit to the actresses for taking his direction, working extraordinarily hard and letting it rip for the performance.  Boy, did they let it rip!  Their performances were utterly convincing.  Wow!

I am amazed that such a small community can produce a play of this caliber.  It goes to show you what can happen when people have enough time to really get into something.  

I am also very grateful that the community has embraced Yella with both arms.  

Integrating into a strange land is a daunting task.  We need all the help we can get.  Having a few groups of people, with like interests, sure does help.

I am continuously amazed at how many unusual and interesting people are here in Boquete.  You can't tell by looking what a person was in their past life.  You never know, you might be talking to a judge or millionaire or con man.  Most of the past life stuff doesn't come out until you really get to know someone.

This place is full of surprises.  That's the real reason I wanted to move here!

Sorry that the picture doesn't include Yella.  I had to use what I could get...no pictures were allowed in the performance.

A Big, Get It Done Day

Right off the bat, you know I'm in trouble.  I used the dreaded phrase, Get It Done.

I started with 10, count them, 10 things on my To Do List.  I was exhausted before I left the house.

Not to be deterred, I went to Breakfast at Olga's.  After all, first things first, don't ya know! I must confess that I did eat and run.

I was on a roll.  Went to the bank, Mail Box Etc with speed and agility.  All this came to a halt at the city.  The entire department was out at a training class.  Must have been Remedial Get Nothing Done 101.  I thought they were already experts at this but I guess there is always room for improvement.

Oh well, on to David.  

On the way, I called my iron worked to check up on him.  He needed a couple of hinges, OK, anything I can do to keep things moving!  I called my lawyer and she had great news, our building permits were in order and processed properly.  

My main reason for the trip was to buy 22oV plugs and wire at an electric supply house to connect my generator to the house.  I found the store...that's always a good start.  They had the obscure plugs, even better news.

Because I was on a roll, I stopped at a music store to purchase guitar strings and picks.  As I was standing close to the door, in a really narrow isle, they fired up a speaker cabinet 3 feet away.    

If you remember, everything is loud and louder in Panama.  But, for God's sake, not this loud!

My hands flew up to my ears, I was convinced I was bleeding from them.  I lunged for the door, trying to escape the teeth rattling noise, and blew out the door.  A couple of local guys were walking by, and started to laugh.  It did look pretty funny, me tumbling out of the store.  The racket outside was still deafening.  They covered their ears too.

In reality, I'm sure this was heard in Panama City.

I think I really did suffer hearing lose in my right ear.  There should be a law against this kind of volume.  (Oops, that's thinking like an American!)

After I collected myself, I returned to Boquete and stopped by my house.  The iron worker, who I hired, was working, but no one else.  Why is it that the people I hire work and the people my builder uses rarely show up?

There goes my blood pressure again.  Holy shit, will I be glad when we are finally through with this house building thing.

I talked to my neighbor through the iron worker, who translated, which is great because the last time I saw him, he talked a blue streak in Spanish and I didn't understand any of it. Turns out, he needs to use a generator to finish his house and I have one.  It is always good to help out your neighbors here.  This will help build our friendship.

My other neighbor hates gringos.  This is very bad.  He was screwed over by an Ugly American a few years ago, so his feelings are justified.  I am working on thawing him our a little.  I can't mention this enough, it is so important to get along with Panamanian neighbors.  We will see.

At the end of the day, I completed 7 out of 10 To Do's.  A great day in Panama!

A Day in the Life

It was early to rise for me today.  I had to get a run and workout in prior to my big activity.

All of this after a breakfast at Olga's.  I am convinced this is the best place to eat, maybe in the world.  I had a grande plate of fruit...papaya, banana, kiwi, mango, pineapple...all ripe to perfection with the best cup of coffee in Boquete with toast for $3.80  With a big hug from Olga, the real specialty of the house.

Now my big activity...

I went to help build the set for the play Yella is in, The Vagina Monologues.  When I got there, they had most of the work completed.  Really great because I hate that mindless stuff. 

It was bad enough having a lady point her finger, telling us what to move, clean, pick up etc.  What made it worse is that she had no sense of humor.  Those that know me, know that I am full of wise ass remarks.  This did not go over well.

Too bad!  That is the price of my labor.

This play will be the best dramatic presentation that the community has experienced to date.  A new director is in town and he is a talented pro.  After all,  wouldn't even let the ladies drink wine a rehearsal, a major departure from the "party" that most rehearsals are.

The only problem...

The attendance will be low because so many men are staunchly avoiding the play.  I don't know what they are afraid of but it is effecting attendance.  Maybe we have too many old, fat, bald guys who have lost interest in...ahem, well, you know.

After finishing the set, we all went out to eat which is always good fun.

After lunch I went to our house with friends that have not seen our ALMOST finished house, otherwise known as...my never ending project, that piece of shit, the most frustrating thing in my life, my nemesis, the Panamanian cultural immersion education, the source of my hair loss and more.

Low and behold, a guy was working on the house.  And, he said that our builder had been there earlier.  What?  And, some critical things were done.

Just keep me in the dark and feed me bullshit.  I love it when stuff gets done, but do think he would tell me?  We may be getting our occupancy permit, but who knows?

It is hard to celebrate the progress when you don't know what it is.

Boquete's Fish Wars

I have been cursed with a wife with the nose of a bloodhound.

This greatly curtails the manly activity of farting.  If I farted in David, in Boquete, she would know the brand of coffee I was drinking.

When I drag fish home from the fishmonger, Yella smells it through 2 or 3 plastic bags, 

from a hundred yards.

When I trim the fish and cook it, I hear about it all evening.  To the point that I limit my at home fish consumption.

Not a problem, I go out to eat fish.  There is always more than one way to, well, skin the fish.

So I decided that I would eat my main meal today at 1 pm and have some fish!

I went to The Oasis, a bed and breakfast, with some of the best food at the best prices in town.  

I had a red pepper and coriander cream soup that was out of this world.  I have learned that coriander is the ground seed of cilantro.  Why did I learn this?  Because I couldn't find coriander because it is cleverly disguised as cilantro here.  The soup was $4.50 which is pricey in Boquete.

The main dish was a large 12 0z. portion corvina (sea bass) with a garlic/olive oil sauce.  There most of been 3 heaping table spoons of roasted garlic pieces over the fish.  It included a large salad.  One of those towering salads that had onions, tomatoes, shaved carrots and cucumbers over a head of lettuce with a balsamic vinegar dressing on the side.  ($10)

I finished with a cup of coffee.  With my 25% discount and a tip, the meal totaled $15.  This is comparable to a $45 to $50 dinner in Colorado Springs.

It was fantastic!

I also saw a demonstration of the family oriented nature of the Panamanian culture in the Oasis.  

An extended family arrived in the rain with grandchildren, mom and abuela (grandma).  The abuela was very feeble.  The grandson helped her out of the car, holding an umbrella over her head while gently walking her to her seat.  Very touching.  This is one of the parts of Panama that I find most endearing.

Got to go...it's raining and I feel a 2 hour nap coming on...after that meal!

A Big Saturday Night in Boquete

Saturday evening was cool.  I put on jeans, socks and shoes, and a long sleeve shirt which is a departure from my normal shorts and sandals.

We decided to go into town even though it was chilly and rainy.  A pretty good jazz band was playing at Amigos and our friends were sitting in for a couple of songs.  

When we arrived the music had started, the place was packed.  It was warm from all the people which felt really nice on a chilly night. There was a cheerful, low roar of voices with smiles and animated conversation, lightly fueled with alcohol.  The band was playing at just the right volume, enough to be heard but not so loud that you couldn't talk over the music.

The place felt warm and welcome, inviting and fun.  When Yella suggested that we go, I was resistant, but now I was glad to be there.

We visited with friends, listened to the jazz, then our friends did a couple of numbers to a rousing ovation.

Much fun had by all!

Then a guitar player sat in with the band and played rock-a-billy boogie...what?  Have you ever heard this kind of music backed up with a jazz band?  Granted he was OK but the continuity was peculiar.

Only in Panama!

After a couple of hours we headed home.  

Now the real adventure begins...driving  on Saturday night in Boquete...it gets VERY drunk out.  

Six nights of the week, Boquete rolls up the sidewalks at 8 pm.  But on Saturday night, let the party begin!  It goes until 5 or 6 in the morning!  Impressive!

Panamanians for sure get drunk but the Indians take it to a whole new level.  Then they fight over women.  The winner gets to take the woman home.  Not a great prize either way, if you know what I mean.

Also, many drive without lights, all over the road, from off the road to on the road or just stop in the road.  Pedestrians lurch out in the road or simply sleep on the road.

All in all, you have to be vigilant because if you hit a Panamanian, you go to jail, no matter who is at fault.  And, you may get prosecuted in the crooked courts for 10's of thousands of dollars.

So the stakes are high.

We made it home without hitting anyone.  To live and enjoy another day.

An very pleasant Saturday night.

Limitations of the Umbrella

For those of you in Colorado...

The umbrella is an instrument to protect you from the rain and has not been seen in Colorado since before the Spanish-American war.  It was believed extinct but may be lurking, hidden in an old 1800's home on the west side of town, behind the coal furnace and buggy whip.

Because I am from Colorado, I have no experience with it, so this device looked like a good idea.  Once again proving that thoughts in the mind are suspect.  Real experience is a much better guide.

I was sitting in a palapa, roadside restaurant, with a friend eating one of the best hamburgers I've had here ($1.50).  And a side salad ($1.00).  The food was great even at a higher price.  This place cooked everything over a charcoal fire.  

Then the rains came...torrentially...tropically...as hard as it rains only in paradise.

No problem.  We were dry and fed and enjoying the afternoon.

In about an hour, it stopped.  Just like a valve was slammed shut.  No rain but so beautiful.

Green and as verdant as possible with gleaming drops of water gems on each leaf.  

Being fooled by the absence of rain, I started home in a leisurely way.  No hurry, no rain.  I stopped at the Shalom bakery (owned by a Christian Korean) for a cup of coffee and a Cinnamon roll, then I started the long way home, stopping to talk with friends for 15 minutes.

About 30 minutes into an hour walk home, it started to rain again...torrentially!  

Not to worry, I had an umbrella, the one without the instructions for this desert rat.

As it turns out, umbrellas are for short sprints from the car to the door, or a quick jaunt down the block. But not for extended walks.

You see, the rain cascades off the umbrella in a 360 degree circle around the circumference of the umbrella, creating a wall of water that hits you at about the waist.

Yep, totally saturated from the waist down and one shirt sleeve to boot.

Oh, but there is something so wonderful about being out in nature at it's most intense.  So I didn't mind.  It was simply fantastic.

I think I will buy the old yellow rain slick suit for future events.

Nothing is Easy in Paradise

Speaking Spanish would really help!

I head down to David to pick up a blank form to renew my license plates and transfer the licensing place from Panama City to Boquete.  I have expert help from friends so this should be easy.

That is the kiss of death.

We get to the place and it looks like a car repair facility.  We request, in broken Spanish, the blank  form and the problems start.  After several attempts at communication, we give up.

I call a friend who speaks Spanish and she translates for us to no avail.  We simply are not getting anywhere.

Finally, we get the expert on the phone who is fluent in Spanish and actually knows what we need.  The problem gets solved.  We need an inspection and the form filled out, not simply a blank form.

This is typical of; one, not having enough background to understand the instructions; two, the language problem; three, the real curse, advise from various people.

This brings me to one of the biggest stumbling blocks...advise.

If advise is requested from several people...about any simple thing like how is your Internet service...you will get a bewildering array of answers that are mutually exclusive.  None of them are remotely similar.

Making you think you are now living in crazy land!  

What makes it even more baffling is the inconsistency in Panama.  Any process changes incessantly.  Or, if you try to do the same thing at different times of the same day, the same bureaucrat will give you different information.

This is the land of fluidity.

And, this renders advise worthless, worthless, worthless.

It even gets logarithmically divergent when you consult an attorney or accountant.

Here is a little example that has cropped up in the last week.

One of the big benefits for pensionados (like us retired people) is no property taxes for 20 years on your house.  This is a big deal.  This requires pulling the building permit before July 1, 2009.  So the deadline is looming over us and important.  No problem...our house is almost finished.

Because our builder has so much smoke and mirrors and double talk, we are not certain that he has pulled the building permit for our friend's house, which is also almost finished.  (We are under the impression that this has been done on our house because I have an actual building permit in my possession.  This, you would think, would reassure you that all is good.)

But nooooooo!!!!!!

My friends email their building permit to our attorney and she now wants to see it and massage it and pull it apart, etc. to see if it actually is a good permit.

For God's sake!  Is nothing simple here?  It's only a building permit!

This is how it goes.  One upset after another.  Most of them self inflicted, you guessed it, by ASKING FOR ADVISE.

Rule Number 1 in Panama: NEVER ASKED ADVISE UNLESS YOU WANT TO HAVE A REALLY BAD TIME!!!

Ah, the dilemma:  you have to ask advise in a strange land.

Thus, many really bad times!

It is a damn good thing that I love it here. 

Putting the House Aside, Life is Great!

For the most part, all you hear from me is bitching about our house.  You probably think we are having a rotten time.

Not true...life is great!  And, the bitching is stimulating.

Back in January, February and even March, I had a lot of time on my hands.  And, it bothered me.  I like to stay active and have things to do.  

But now, I have to fight to have an evening free to read a book.

If anything, we complain about a lack of time.  A typical comment is "how did I have the time to work in my other life?"  

Because the USA amenities are not available, a whole new assortment of activities arise.  Ones that require creativity and self generation.  

The arts are big.  There is a play about every two months, music every week and all sorts of crazy events.  

The last one was lady's night out where they all dressed like "Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves" and went bar hopping.  I saw them about 10 pm and, yes, it was getting pretty drunk out.  None of the women were seen the next day before 3 pm, by the way.

It is fascinating and invigorating to live where you have to generate activities.  It knocks the staleness out of life right now!

Because the bar is so low, people venture out to try things that they would never dream of in the good ole US of A.  It is too threatening back home where most activities are professional and off limits to the common man.  Yes, there are a lot of terrible performances but everyone eats it up!  These are generous audiences.  They will watch anything and like it.

The absolute best activity is having the leisure to stop and talk to someone anytime you want, without concern for time.  I have gotten to know many people and you can guess that most people here have to be a little big crazy, so they are endlessly interesting.

I am also really thrilled with playing music again.  What a pleasure.

I was listening to my first cords during practice today and marveled at how good they sounded.  Clean, crisp, vibrant and clear.  I am starting to clean it up.  About time.  The days of playing drunk in bars are about 30 years long gone.

We had a real treat tonight.  A current movie, "Doubt".

We have only watched 2 current movies since we moving to Panama.  It was so much fun.  And, it is like experiencing the magic of a movie for the first time.  Well, I know, that is an exaggeration but it was great.

Tomorrow, we have nothing planned.  A little hiking, a little music, maybe the neighbors will cook us some fish in banana leaves over an open pit fire.  

One Step Forward, Two Steps Backward

At 10 am this morning, I loaded up a translator and headed to David to enter the Belly of Beast, Union Fenosa, and try to get a contract started for my electric.

I was not optimistic but you have to start somewhere.

A word about translators.  There are a few Panamanian women who are not only translators but, how do I put it, are also expediters...otherwise known as jackhammers, pile drivers, ramrods, C4 explosives.  They are extremely effective at bullying Panamanian bureaucrats into action.  Well, not action by our standards, but they get minor visible evidence of some kind of progress, if you view it from a very relaxed, deep Zen state.

I called several of the them and tried to elicit their help, for money of course, but lo and behold, none were available.  You see, they don't need to work anymore because they are attractive, young women who meet old, old, even older than you are thinking, old gringo men who they are willing to love until the money runs out or they die.  And, they don't need to work anymore because sugar daddy is footing the bill.  

I have started to poison all old gringo men (only those 80 and up) to get them out of the way so the rest of us can get on with life and have the expediters back!

Damn!  I really needed some help.

Well, I hired the next best thing, a very young Panamanian woman to translate.  And, she worked out really well.

We entered the building and after a short wait met with a cleric.  She tried to turn us away to get more stuff but my very young expediter actually talked her into proceeding and at least getting a contract started.

I couldn't believe it!  This is not possible.  To try to get something done and get it done. Noooo!  The world must be coming to an end.  

So armed with a fresh contract to start the process, we left.  

Oh, by the way, you will enjoy this.  The clerk told me, "this will be a really slow process."  No shit!  I would have never guessed.  Not here.

People from other Latin countries think it is slow here.  T-h-i-s  i-s  a  r-e-a-l-l-y  s-l-o-w  c-o-u-n-t-y.  You know it is really slow because you say everything VERY LOUD AND SLOWLY.  This clearly doesn't work but it is just natural.

I should be elated but I am not.  I don't know how but I know something will come up to STOP EVERYTHING FROM MOVING FORWARD!!!

I was not disappointed.

At 4:45 pm on Friday afternoon (this is a first, someone actually working after lunch on Friday)

Union Fenosa called to say something was missing.  Just a small thing, the Occupancy Permit!  

Shit...  You have to be canonized a saint to get one of those.  

Let's look on the bright side...they actually called and let us know something was missing.  I was shocked.  But then again, they probably are laughing at their clever little fly in the ointment.

Will this never end?

The On Going Saga of the Never Ending House

If I could spin a yarn as adroitly as my builder, I would be a muti-millionaire novelist with an international following.  

This guy can change a story faster than Tricky Dick in 1972, faster that a politician, well, with his mouth moving, faster that "W" justifying a war, and faster than Dick Cheney explaining that water boarding is simply a party game, faster than Obama extinguishing a cigarette when the cameras are on, faster than Focus on the Family disavowing Ted Haggard when the manure hit the ventilator...you get the idea.

If I tried to diagram the story line about my house, I would have sprained both wrists and have writers cramps in my fingers.  

Let it be said that I have no idea what is going on, what happen, much less what is going to happen.  Just keep me in the dark and feed me bullshit.

He failed the final Bomber's inspection last week.  To his credit, he had 2 guys...count them...2 guys working on my house for 2 days.  That is a record over the last 5 months.  (I have averaged 4 hours of work for 1 guy each week--lucky me!)  He was busy correcting the deficiencies in the inspection.  And, they actually have some building codes here that make sense.  I do know that most inspections are failed the first time so deficiencies don't bother me.  The rest of the story is what bothers me.

My problem is that I thought the inspection was done weeks ago.  Silly me!  I know he told me it was done, he stacked several stories on top of each other to validate that it was done, he blamed the paperwork delays on the Bomber's administration, his sick horse, his broken truck, his cabinet maker cutting off a finger (which was not true although he did take a good chunk out of finger), and anything else within the reach of his agile and creative mind.

But, in the end, it wasn't done until last Friday.

The only way I found out was dropping by my house and seeing 2 guys doing things that were not expected, like actually being there and working!

I started to ask him when the paperwork would be done, but I stopped...what's the use.  All I ever get is bullshit.  I had to buy a new pair of boots, waist high hip waders, just to stay out of it.

Well, in all this upset, wouldn't you know it...

I GOT MY FINAL BOMBER'S PAPERWORK TODAY!!!

Will wonders never cease.  I can't even celebrate.  The journey has been too long and arduous.  I am plain old tuckered out.

Tomorrow I go to Union Fenosa and try to submit the paperwork for the electric.  You can relax, I don't actually expect to have everything.  I know I will have to go back um tine times but it will be in my court under my control.

Wish me luck, would ya.