It's Not So Different In Some Ways
Video chats and e-mails with friends and family confirm that our land-based pandemic life on Basti is similar in many ways to the lives of our North American retiree compadres. Like them, we make every effort to remind ourselves to be thankful -- that we are well (so far, so good, knock wood) and because we are retired, free from the stress of unemployment or having to work in a place we might feel unsafe.
We also practice the pandemic coping mechanisms we know we share with others:
- Naming each day's joy (see sunset picture above);
- Hoping for positive changes this pandemic may bring (universal healthcare or health insurance in the U.S. (ojalá!), reduced entertainment shopping and boredom-based fast food consumption and less frenzied, unnecessary movement using carbon based fuel);
- Exercising (well - sometimes);
- Thinking of others' needs -- many thanks to Christine, a marina friend who organizes food distributions for local indigenous communities!
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| One Of The Deliveries From Marina Residents |
- Reading -- though our concentration can be spotty and our book picks not always Fine Literature;
- Streaming a lot of entertainment content -- we've upped our streaming game and have signed on to Britbox and PBS and the house we are in has Netflix Panama;
- Making efforts to stay in contact with friends and family. [Note: Without Messenger, Zoom, Skype and WhatsApp we would have gone 'round the twist months ago -- so we might not think the next "how sad it is this younger generation spends so much time in front of a screen" comment is so funny. We say, leave the damned kids alone!]; and
- Cooking - and trying not to complain about cooking.
All of this helps keep us on an even keel most of the time. But there are times it doesn't override the frustration we feel at spending so much of our finite existence on this planet (however long that turns out to be) in one place. We know we share that sentiment with some of our generational cohort, too.
But It's Different In Other Ways
Though in ways our life isn't that different, in others, because we are in Panama and at the sparsely populated end of an island, it is.
Many Better Differences:
We have enjoyed being removed from many aspects of North American culture: cable television and its relentless news, the tyranny of those who insist their personal freedoms should override community safety (even if they only come to our attention on cable television) and recreational shopping.
We confess to having had periods of championship purchasing (usually when we return to the States!) but the few stores in Bocas Town (the archipelago's only community of significant size) are closed and the extra shipping costs required to get things to our out-of-the-consumer-mainstream location protects us from entertainment shopping on the internet. It's felt quite freeing to realize how much stuff we don't need. [Side note: We did place a critical needs internet order of some new boxer shorts for Bryce -- elastic doesn't live long in the tropics. They aren't anything special even though with shipping they may be the most expensive plaid cotton boxer shorts he will ever own. TMI?]
We are able to live most of each day outside - not only because the climate here is frequently pleasant, but because the house we are staying in is designed for an outdoor-friendly life. We have a breezy, second story deck where even humid or rainy days are nice. We do not look forward to returning to the land of central heat and air -- or, even worse, fire smoke. (Hang in there, California peeps. We don't envy your life during Fire Season.)
And of course -- this part of Panama is beautiful and interesting. From our deck we enjoy world class views (see above) and the sound of waves, parrots, other birds, insects, geckos and frogs. On a recent afternoon Bryce spotted a lost-looking capuchin monkey walking across the lawn and has worried about him ever since, as we have never seen a capuchin monkey moving about solo. They always travel in troops as far as we know.
During dry moments (most days have some) we take walks along jungle roads and swim. The fact that the resort is almost deserted means the little community pool is our private pool.
In sum, we are lucky to be here.
Some Not Better Differences, Of Course:
As we have mentioned, the closest medical clinic is a 15-minute fast panga ride away and the nearest real hospital is several hours over bumpy roads from here. We are betting on staying healthy rather than on needing the more immediate medical assistance available to us in the U.S.
Our food choices are more limited than they would be in, say, California (e.g., frozen strawberries are a delicacy, we don't know how we would get a real peach and we'd pretty much pay anything for some California-style sourdough bread). Bocas del Toro province has a 7 pm to 5 am curfew and a full curfew on Saturday and Sunday which means we don't take out for dinner (though we have a good fish taco place on Basti for lunch or early dinner). This just means our constant meals at home complaints are probably whinier than they would be if we were in the States.
And even though we list not being able to internet shop without a price penalty as a better difference -- we do occasionally long for a replacement t-shirt to show up on our doorstep.
Life in paradise is not without some challenges.
Just Different Differences:
It's winter (or what passes for winter) here and it's been rainy for several weeks in a way that would impress even people from Ontario or Oklahoma.
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| Spectacular Clouds Promising Spectacular Rain |
We have a resident critter which, fortunately appears to live outside and has no interest in joining us inside the house. We first thought it might be a larger version of the hopping mouse we removed from the house a couple months ago - driven outside by the sonic rodent repellant machines that our landlords shipped to us from the States. Thanks, Libby and Jack!
Bryce took a picture of this recent critter into town to try to buy a trap -- the plan was to trap it and take it far away, inflicting just enough trauma to convince it to find another place to hang out. The guy at the hardware store told Bryce that no one bothers trapping zarigüeyas -- they live in the bosque -- and that the store didn't have any traps that size. Hmmm. Bryce's Spanish vocabulary included bosque (forest - what we call jungle) but not zarigüeya. A dictionary search disclosed that our forest critter is -- a possum.
A further internet search confirmed that some people keep possums as pets. We will not. No matter how boring we may occasionally find our own conversation, we do not enjoy having a possum staring at us during dinner. We have taken steps to discourage this particular possum from feeling comfortable near the house, and flicking it with a towel did cause it to quit ogling our dinner temporarily, but sounds on the roof suggest it has not moved permanently. Perhaps the recent heavy rains will drive it away. Or perhaps we will have to agree to coexist. As long as it remains outside.
And That's Why We're Still Here
Travel Restrictions (FYI):
- By Land: Panama's one land border crossing -- with Costa Rica -- has been closed to non-essential travel since March. We can't drive or bus out. Side note: Costa Rica is opening to commercial traffic this month -- but to only a few U.S. residents.
- By Sea: Recreational boat travel is currently prohibited within Panama, though recreational boats have been able to obtain permission to leave Panama. The "sailing away" option is complicated because most nearby countries are currently closed to arriving recreational vessels except in emergency situations and in recent times even open international borders have closed without notice. Sailing connections tell us that being exhausted and running out of food, diesel or electricity haven't been deemed to be "emergency situations" by some countries. So - sailing off to "some place else" doesn't seem a safe plan. Sailing off to the U.S. (where we have citizenship and thus the right to enter) would require heading further into the Caribbean -- directly into hurricane season. All this to arrive in Florida. Not our preferred destination even before the pandemic.
- By Air (Regular, Commercial Flights): Panama remains closed to international and domestic commercial air traffic, which will not open any sooner than September 21 (recently updated from August 21). Until Panama reopens internal scheduled flights, getting to Panama City means a 10 hour ride by government-approved private transport (4-wheel drive or van of some sort).
- By Air (Other Options): There are repatriation / humanitarian flights for U.S. citizens and residents which travel from Panama to Florida, Texas and D.C. and occasional regular COPA Airline flights that are allowed to transit into Panama from other locations which travel on to the U.S. One of these flights is the option on the table in the event we feel it is best to leave here before commercial flights recommence.
