Boquete, Panama

Is it worth posting when the adventures start to feel like normal life?

I spent the last few days in Boquete, Panama.  It started with a bang!  I found the local food joint and waited in a slow-moving line to make my choices from the buffet like layout.  Not knowing what the different foods were I turned around and asked the people behind me.  One thing led to another and before I knew it we were eating together and then going on a motorcycle tour around town.  They took me up to the national park trail where the clouds were thick and made it impossible to see without taking my sunglasses off.  It was gorgeous and a great introduction to the town.  Sometimes I only see the town center where I stay and an extra couple miles where I walk.  It made me think about getting a car, or hitchhiking to see more. 

The days after that first one were calm.  I kicked around town, observed the goings-on that were part of Semana Santa (Holy Week).  My hostel was right in the center of town so the preaching and music in the main square kept me awake until 4am a couple nights in a row.  But Mamallena Hostal has a great community atmosphere so I stayed a few more nights. 

One of the advertised things to do in Boquete is to hike up Volcan Baru.  Typically, groups leave at 10:30pm to make the 6 hour trek uphill, watch the sunrise, and then trek back in about 4 hours.  I like my sleep so I coordinated a group to leave at 4:30pm instead.  I wrote a story about it in my journal so am not going to do so here.  In summary, we got to the outdoor shelter and laid out our sleeping bags to sleep under the stars in the 40ish degree weather.  I was glad to have my emergency blanket because I made full use of it inside my mummy sleeping bag!  Because of the cold I only slept 90 minutes, huddled next to my friend Anna.  It was a relief when 4am rolled around and we could get up and trek the last 45 minutes to the peak.  I sat up there in my sleeping bag for a couple hours while we all visited, watched the sky lighten slowly, illuminating the mountains and volcano around us.  There were 8 of us, from 4 different countries, and we entertained ourselves by playing the alphabet game.  I love that all people are just people.

After some meditation, photo opps, and all-around good fun we headed back down the hill.  The loose rocks and lack of sleep made the trek down a little less than delightful but we made it.  At the entrance we paid our $5 park fee and called a taxi to bring us back to town.  But when he got there he wanted to charge $4 per person instead of the official $2pp so out of principle everyone refused.  The driver jumped into his car, refusing to negotiate, and peeled outta there.  Now, only 5 minutes earlier we were all struggling to make it the short distance to the taxi, but suddenly, there we were, full of energy and walking 20km back to town.  Luckily, after 40 minutes of walking we got picked up by a farm truck and rode a few k´s closer to town.  But, alas, he had onions to pick up so he directed us to the corner where taxis are supposed to be. 

None were there.  So on we walked.  In the sun.  Down the winding road, knees aching.  On and on.

20 minutes later the same farm truck turned up, loaded with sacks of onions, and motioned us to jump in.  So we did, with just enough space to stand there.  He drove us further than his actual destination in order to drop us only 2 or 3 km from town.  So we walked some more.

It was a lovely adventure.

And I am distinctly aware that some of you reading this have a problem with me hitchhiking.  I could have chosen to not share the story but I like sharing my life with you, the ways I am cultivating love within myself and with the friends around me.  This is one of those ways.  Please, let your criticism go.

My time in Boquete was grounding.  Being in the rainforest, doing a difficult trek that my health could not afford a mere 2 years ago.  It opened me up to life and freedom and happiness.

Last night I was in the lobby of the hostal transferring pictures from my camera.  One of the reception workers walked in with a lady who is a relocation specialist in Panama.  She commented on my hair, liking the short cut.  Earlier that day I had the thought that it needs a trim and so I mentioned this to her.  She flippantly said if she had scissors she could totally do it.  I looked her dead on, asked her if that was true, she said Yes.  I jumped up, asked the receptionist for a pair of scissors and was rewarded by her retrieving a pair from the desk.  Think 5th grade scissors, plastic handle, small.

Out we went, into the night, and found a place under the streetlight to do a little trim.  A lot of time was spent on the left side.  My cowlick in back now stands on end.  Its asymmetrical and unconventional.  But I can´t really tell because there are not a lot of mirrors here. 

It feels good.

Spontaneity.

Living.

Cultivating love all over the place.