Day 4 in Panama

December 18, 2009

Amazing day! Don’t have time to tell it all.  Nedd to go to sleep so I can wake up at 5:30am to get ready foran 8am trip to Tabago Island.  I decided that I want a day at the beach.  One ferry in one ferry out.  Will recap it all soon. Lets just sayI can become Panamanian with about $100 and a few papers signed.

Day 3 in Panama

December 17, 2009

Got lost for the first time.  Had great Salsa lessson.  Had my first horrible meal/service at In-Fusion Restaurant.

Tomorrow I’m gonna have an early day for sure…My days start out pretty late because the roads are crowded and the heat is stifling.  I lnow i’ve talked about the heat a lot.  I actually like it and want to get as much of it in my body before I get to Toronto.  I’ve been hearing the reports of how friggin cold it is there.  So at 3:30pm I was attempting to find something to eat for lunch.  I went in the restaurant at the hotel, they had advertise this lentil soup the day before and  I so thought I’d go for that, but they didn’t have it anymore-I think it was yesterday’s meal.  I then went across the street to In-Fusion and they were closed.  I looked over the menu and thought maybe I’d venture back there later.  I got directions to the supermarket.  I have a little fridge in my room and thought it would be great to get some fruit and some water and snacks.  I got directions from the front desk and some how I passed the market completely and ended up at a park.  It was across from the Intercontinental Hotel.  I want to go there one night-they have music and shows and that also where the two bajan-panamanian guys work.

It was quittin’ time for most people so lots of hustle and bustle.  A few homeless people in the park, high school lovebirds and seniors with nurses.  I was right beside that main street again-the one that has like 10 lanes to cross.  All the buses stopped at this park as well.  I am not sure that I am so adventurous as to hop on a bus in Panama. The buses are old school buses and it just doesn’t seem that easy to figure out what the system is.  I had a thought of taking the bus to Metro Mall-but I just don’t know.  The language barrier is what holds me back the most here.  I need to continue to study spanish.  SO when I headed back up the street I found the supermarket and wonder to myself how did I miss this?  I loved Riba Smith Supermarket.  Very modern and lots of organic food and cheap fruit.  I bought a container of mixed cut fruit for $1.  I bought some soy cheese and crackers, oranges and watermelon, a knife and a spoon and some plantain chips and a hazlenut bar.  I thought I had mentally placed markers in my brain to retrace my path back to the hotel, but I got lost! I stopped 3 people “Donde esta…” thing is I knew I was really close but once I got turned around I was very turned around.  So the easiest thing to do is to hop in a cab. Like I said before rides in the city are no more than $2.  So I tried to haggle with my driver to make it a $1 and I did a horrible job, but I made it back to the hotel.  Around 7 or 8pm  the music started playing at In-Fusion restaurant across the street.  It was great I was dancing in my room and the music actually sounded like it was live music-but I could tell that it was dance lessons the way the people were lined up. So I took my time and got myself ready and headed over around 9:30pm.  The Salsa teacher was the same guy that I had spoken with earlier that day.  The lesson was so much fun!  Reminds of the days back at Mr. E’s in Berkeley.  I learned some new steps, sweat poured from my body, the music was great! 

Then it went down hill from there.  I very much believe that what gets reflected back to me is what I think about is what I hold deeply in consciousness and some times in my subconscious.  First the bad food and bad service.  I think the place was a Jewish Establishment and I have nothing against Jews, some of my very good friends are Jewish and my Mom says my great great grandfather was Jewish (FYI,Barbados has the first synagogue in the western hemisphere).  THere were a lot of Jewish kids and family members or friends of the owner(s) that seemed to be here tonight. 

I orderded a combo appetizer dish.  Mushroom dumplings, Tuna Curry Crepes and Chicken Quesidila with Dijon.  The waitress was actually nice, but there were some things that were beyond her control that lead to the bad service.  I’m pretty sure that my food came out in about 15 minutes but it was given to some family sitting at the bar.   So it ended up taking 45 minutes to get 8 appetizers. 

So that was disheartning.  Then, this is probably TMI There were these two young couples that had been dancing and they were more Metizo (which means mixed with spanish, black, white and what ever else). The guys were at least and the girls looked black.  I’m like seeing this just through half a window.  This white girl comes up to one of the guys (I have no offense against white people-some of my good friends are white) and talks with him directly while he is sitting there while not acknowledge any of the other 3 people including the girl he is with for about 20 minutes and her friend joins her and I could just see the black girl’s face and I just felt for her.  The guy didn’t do anything to cut the conversation short, he was enjoying the admiration.  I just wish I could stepped in and accidently tripped and thrown some water on the girls.  I’m still upset about the Tiger Woods scandal-but I digress. (prayer partner-please pray for me!!!)

So the food comes out 45 minutes later for what I believe was the second time and its horrible.  Everything is super hot (caliente) and I am having problems digesting it.  You guys have seen my reviews on food so far ( think it might have new profession coming up soon). I learned a long time ago that when food crosses your palate and it just doesn’t seem right, you do not continue to eat it.  THe only thing I could eat where the mushrooms and not without an extra glass of water.  So the food sucked and I left most of it on the plate.  I waited 45 mintutes for crap.  And I guess to make matters worse and not even better is that the co-owner who was manning the bar came up to me after the waitress to may plate and was condescending to say the least.  He was like aren’t you going to have any food any drinks, you’re here by yourself.  Why are you sitting in here by yourself etc etc. So I was explaining to him that I had just eaten and he asked me how it was and I just kind of made a face and told him everything was super hot and not too edible.  He was still trying to defend his restaurant by asking where I was from.  I told him Toronto, he thought NYC.  I told him that I had live there too.  He started saying your from Toronto you don’t like hot food etc etc. I told him I lived in Montreal and SF as well.  So he didn’t think he was talking to a country bumpkin.  He started to apologize and wanted to offer me Kaluha or something or more food.   IT was too late to make it up at this point. He suggested I come back tomorrow for the live jazz band it is going to be there 2nd performance on stage.  But you know what, I can listend just as well from my room,  if I am around.

You know I’m not the kind of person to spend so much time on negative things. So I am going to work on letting it go.

Tomorrow I do my tour with Manuel his number is 66-46-15-40 here in Panama (outside of Panama it is dialed differently I think).  I am headed to Old Town, Amador Causeway, maybe the Metromall or the Rainforest in the middle of the city and I’m gonna try and find the street that my Dad was born on or at least go to the area. La Boca , Balboa, Panama Canal Zone. Hey and whatever you do, do not worry about me. I have a very good sense of people, good intuition.

Day 2 in Panama

December 16, 2009
  • I got down to breakfast around 9am and had pancakes and eggs along with orange juice and my own gigner tea.  Breakfast was okay, not fabulous but enough to get me started on the day.  I have videos that I am going to upload of the day from blackberry.  It explain more in the moment than any written word could do.  It is extremely hot.  Like so hot that if they had a Bikram Yoga stuido-they wouldn’t need to do anything to heat the room!  I like it, but this heat is nothing to play with, especially in the day.  After breakfast I headed to the Afro-Antillian Museum in Calindina.  A $2.00 taxi got me there and it was nice.  It is housed in an original old black methodist chruch.  I couldn’t take pictures inside.  They had some artificats like furniture, mosquito cans, irons, water jugs, hot combs and curlers from back in the day. They also had pictures.  This exhibit seemed to be focused at this time on the wives of the men who worked on the canal.  They had pictures of teachers and their students, a sewing circle and the look and dress of women back in the day with head ties and dresses.  My sister owns a pair of shearing scissors that were passed down by my great aunt, Beryl Walters (Adison)who I believe was born (definately raised) in Panama.  I think that these scissors are from the 1920s.  I purchased two books, From Barbados to Panama by Melva lowe de Goodin and Songs and Stories of a Digger’s Son by John Weldon Evans.  I wish the museum had more.  However I was happy to set foot in the museum and to recognize and honor the history.  What’s coming to mind to me is that I would love to do oral history on this.  I know that it would need to be done soon.  My Dad didn’t speak much of this place, for him it was a god forsaken place.  That was the perspective he chose to take with the cards he was dealt.  For me coming here is hard to put into words.  This place is a part of my history.  History that I just began learning less than a decade ago. History that my dad never explained but I think in some ways transfererred the pain.  You know how you can see someone and they don’t have to say a word and you can feel them.  For my Dad this was a really sore spot.  ANd for me it has pain that I can’ t even figure out where it is coming from.  So to come here is to learn and to face the pain and most important to heal it and neutralize it for myself and my children’s children. 

THe faces of everyone is so mixed.  You see blacks, latinos, indians, whites, jews, asians-you see everyone in everyone here. I keep trying in my mind to segregate and separate people into categories, but I know that that is a devisive tactic.

After I left the museum I was told by the docent to be careful and watch for purse snatchers and pick pockets.  So I did not go throw Calidonia too much.  I hopped in a Taxi for a minute but it wasn’t the right type- thank that I got in-cause there was a crackhead headed straight towards me.  I then got out a few yards down and started walking.

I just had to put my confidence and certainty on as I walked thru the streets and act like I know.  I went into a little store got some much needed water and plantain chips.  I wanted to get to the boardwalk past the freeway and I bumped into a woman, Suzanne and we walked acros the 10 lane highway together.  It was great talking with Suzanne, she is a nurse, her Aunt wants her to come to Miami but she is scaird. She said I look like I am Panmanian until I speak.  We had a good walk and talk together for about 10 minutes. Very friendly very nice.

I walked along the boardwalk and snapped some pictures and met a young man from Panama.  He spoke mostly spanish.  I have his video. 

I hopped in a cab and headed to the vegetarian restaurant-that is no longer there and now a Quizons and then I realized the heat, the heat, the heat.  It ain’t nothing to play with.  Sweat just pouring off of me.  I went into a ice cream/burger place just to cool down.  I ended up at Subway and had a vegtarian sub.

I figured out an inside tip on the taxi system.  The local share taxi rides.  So if there are people in there already the taxi will stop for you and take you along.  It took me a minute …. I think that mainly locals do this I had some guy comment in spanish about Americanos etc. when it seemed like he wanted to get in the taxi.  Now I know. Also Suzanne gave me a tip.  I should flag down only yellow taxis (I don’t know why) and no taxi ride should cost more than $2.  WHen I got back to the hotel I spent the afternoon relaxing and taking it easy.  I then decided very late to go to Amador Causeway for Diner. I had a great diner at Bucaneros restaurant.  I had Salmon made with Tequila on a bed of mash potatoes topped with crisp plantains and a side of vegetables. IT was exquisite.  THe music was also great at this restaurant, I asked the guitarist the name of his group but I think he just gave me the type of music they play.  This is what he wrote: Grupo de musica rumba, flamenca Adams/Barsallo.  I ‘ll upload the music later.

My taxi Driver Daniel was crazy,  he wanted to marry me and he also showed me the red-light district of the city.  His motto “Beer and Sex” he pointed out cross dressers and strip joints, gentlemens clubs, and massage parlors.  He knew as much English as I know Spanish.  He said it pretty plainly in Spanish that I need to practice my Spanish as much as he needed to practice his English.

Day 1 in Panama

December 15, 2009

Dec 15, 2009. 1:17am EST

I arrived safely in Panama yesterday around 2:30pm. L picked me up and took me to the airport, which I am very grateful for his help.  He thought that I was very nervous as we headed to SFO.  I definately had a bit of nervous excitement.  This trip feels like my first truly solo journey and adventure, believe it or not.  I know that I’ve been a good number of places.  Panama is the first place that I feel like I am really on my own.  Montreal, I had my cousin there when I made the first bus ride for my interview.  Calgary, my sister was there.  Barbados has always been with the family and on one occasion with the high school band.  Frankfurt and Stuttgart were tied into a conference.  Mexico, I went with a friend.  All the places in North America, all the towns from Kaui to Cody Wyoming are all within North America and there is a certain familiarity that goes along with being in the same continent.

I am in Central America!  Its 90 degrees. It is humid and I love it.  It is the kind of humidity that reminds you of a Bikram Yoga class.  I left after miidnight on the 14th from SFO making connections in Dallas, Miami and then on to Panama.  I think all in all a 10 hour journey.  I took No Jet Lag, all natural pills from New Zealand and just recalles from my memory the book i bought when I first came to San Francisco about how to adjust to the time zone difference when travelling and reducing jet lag.  Technically, I should not be up still, but I want to get this writing in while it is fresh.

I sat beside a Panamanian guy who parents were from Korea. We didn’t talk too much. He advised me to get prepared for the humidity. He said Panama was the nicest or most evolved country in Central America. Once I landed it took about 2 hours to navigate through customs and immigration.  The women’s bathroom, only one toilet-that took up a lot of time.  There were a lot of people arriving from the US, Canada and Europe. I used my spanish here and there, I find myself going to French a lot when I am trying to communicate. The taxi  ride was $28.  What I noticed is that there is a lot of undeveloped land here adn a lot of bill boards, tons of bill boards. Only other place that I have seen so mant billboards was` in Texas. The city has a lot of half-built sky scraper condominiums.  If you know me-well then you know I love condos. Unfortunately the downturn in the US economy I would say from the looks fo it has a direct impact on Panama.  Most of the people buying the condos were Americans and Canadians retirees and investors. Some buildings are being qorked on, while others just seem to be an empty shell.

My accomodations are very modest, i am staying at the Tower house hotel on Bella Vista, its about $60 a night and the place is in the heart of Panama City.  It is easy to walk around. My room has 3 single beds an sofa, desk, mini refrigerator, tv and bathroom with a shower.  There is an air conditioner unit in my room.  It is a good budget hotel.  The one thing I noticed right away is that there is that slight smell of moldiness but I think it comes with the territory of the country that I am in.  I remember reading in Michael Coniff’s book Black labor on a White Canal.  “It was so humit that you woul place you shoes in the closet and the next day there would be mold growing from them.  I had some pringles left over from the plane ride-i put them in the fridge. I see no bugs and no mosquitos so far, no critters at all.  THis is a good thing.  I soon as I got in, I knew that I had to immerse myself so I hopped in the shower and then went walking. I ended up at Le Meridian hotel where I had a glass of champagne at the bar and some bottled water. I ate at Latitudes restaurant and had a great meal.  Blackened Mahi-Mahi with Couscous and vegetables and chocalate extravaganza with vanilla icecream (although they gave me strawberry ice cream).  THe restaurant was very elegant and nice. THe staff was very friendly. The service went a little down hill when the shift change happened.  ALl in all it was good and I had a good first meal.  THe front desk person back at my hotel, Drexalla has been great. SHe got me a guide\driver, Manuel which was the thing that I was praying for and hoping to have to help me navigate this Country.  Tomorrow I am off to the West Indian Museum.

 

 

 

 

Getting Ready for the Journey!

November 23, 2009

I popped in my Spanish CD, boy to I need it! I comprehend and speak basic French, unfortunately Spanish is not a language that I paid much attention to.  I feel like I need to take a self-defense course. I don’t think I’ll have time before I leave on Dec 14th.  I’ll add that to my New Year’s list of things I want to accomplish.  I have a lot to do in the next few weeks to prepare for the journey.  I going to keep it a simple and well planned out as possible.  One thing I am trying to figure out is the weather change from San Francisco to Panama to Toronto.  My sister will be in Toronto on Dec 5th-maybe I can send her a suitcase of clothes for Toronto-that way I won’t have to deal with carrying excess and unnecessary baggage. My flight leaves at midnight so I am hoping that L can take me to the airport.  I’ll have to make the request.  I also have to get back in touch with my neighbor/hairdresser and ask if she can house sit for me.

I’ve checked the weather and the dry  season begins mid-December.  The temperature will range from 75-90 degree.  I took a look at the Airport website and found out that it is a 20 mile ride from the airport to Panama City.  It will cost about $30 and it is really important to negotiate the fare before the trip starts.  They have this cool train trip from Panama City to Colon for $35 return. Train leaves at 7:15 am and returns at 5:15pm. Only thing is Colon could be unsafe with lots of poverty and crime and drugs.  I am going to caution on the safe side and get a personal guide for my day trip to Colon.  The areas outside Colon, beaches, historic sites, churches are desirable destinations.  There is a big park 20 min from Panama City that has lots to do including an Ariel tram, hot springs, bird watching, kayaking, hiking etc.  I have my canal trip booked for Sat Dec 19 and that starts early 6:00 and goes through the canal.  I guess that the biggest thing I will need for this trip is to get connected to the right people.  Good people that can show me around.  My research for tomorrow will be more on the Afro Antillean Museum and getting connected with people.  I am going to call the two men that work at Inter-Continental Hotel tomorrow that I found on a Bajan’s couples blog.  Hopefully they’ll be helpful.

Tools ‹ Exploringmyrootsinpanama's Blog — WordPress

November 22, 2009

Tools ‹ Exploringmyrootsinpanama’s Blog — WordPress.

My Flight is Booked for Panama!!!!!

November 22, 2009

I finally did it, i just booked my flight and hotel for Panama.  I am leaving in three weeks to go and see the place where my father was born and uncover my own history.  I am very excited!  I became curious about Panama in 1999 when governance of the Canal Zone switched hands from the US to Panama.  I knew that my Dad, Ferdinand Arnold was born in Balboa, Panama in the canal zone Dec 22, 1924. He spoke fluent Spanish up until the day he left and then I don’t think he spoke a word of it after that. Unfortunately, I did not know much more about my Dad’s days in Panama. The family moved backed to Barbados when he was 12 years old and my Aunt Olga was 18, Uncle Gerald-I am not sure how old he was. They had another sibling that died of malaria at birth.  My dad passed in 1994 so all that I have is information from my mother and the little that I do remember him mentioning about his life in Panama.  Well to begin with, my Dad did not talk much about Panama to us. The one thing that I do remember that sticks in my mind is when the US invaded Panama in 1989.  I was home in Toronto, off for winter break from Univerisity studies in Montreal.  We were glued to the television set.  My Dad was not upset about the invasion, in fact he was very pro-American, he was cheering the invasion.  At that time and for a long time before, I guess Panama had been a Military dictatorship under the reign of General Manuel Noriega.  However, I know that there is soooo much more to that and I don’t want to talk about politics too much in this journey.  A good place to uncover some of the truth behind operation Just Cause and the Invasion of Panama by the US is to watch the movie Panama Deception.  It is one of my favorites and received an academy award in 1992.

Even though the country was being ruled by a dictator I did not understand how my Dad could rejoice in his birthplace being blown up to pieces. I guess what I did not understand at that point was the the Canal Zone, was technically different and very separate from the rest of Panama.  My Dad was a very strong, silent type so we never talked that much.  I didn’t quiz him like I should have and I was very quiet and shy around him. My dad use to always sing “nobody knows the troubles I’ve seen”

My Dad had me when he was 46 years-old, I am the youngest of seven.  I know that my mom mentioned to me that the doctor wanted her to abort me because of her age at the time of the pregnancy (38). I always wondered if I being the last child and all of us kids for that matter were a burden to him. In hind sight I describe my Dad as having a broken spirit . A deep unexplainable sadness.  He was 6’2 with a very dark complexion. Back in Barbados he was a Police officer and a detective.  When my mom and dad emmigrated to Canada in the early 50s he worked as a train Porter. He also worked as a Longshoreman, on the assembly line at the Ford plant in Oakville and for most of my childhood onwards he was a Security Guard and retired from the General Motors plant in Scarborough. Back in the days when he was coming up, blacks and other minorities and women were not allowed to be police officers in Canada.  So he took the jobs that he could to support the family.  From a detective to a train porter, I know that it was hard on him. However back then those were the only types of jobs a large majority of black men could have at the time.  I also know that that is just the condition and the consciousness that he held on to as well.   His cousins (they were more like brothers to him) Gerald, Leroy and Edsworth a Doctor, Dentist and Lawyer had a major influence in my family’s life and the lives of many West Indians in Canada. According to Mom, Dad and the family left the canal zone because of horrible conditions.  There were lots of strikes and poor working and living conditions.  My studies uncovered that the same Jim Crows laws that were in the United States at the time were also in the adapted to the Canal Zone.  When the family went back to Barbados they stayed with the cousins.  Meanwhile the cousins were going to school in British Columbia and Nova Scotia so when they moved up to Canada they influenced my Mom and Dad to move there as well.  My mom has a very fair complexion, she was born in Barbados and raised like a single child by Aunt “Ma” . Mom knew her 4 sisters and brother and her biological mother, her father died a fisherman at sea. Mom was raised as a single child and afforded many many privileges growing up. She was like royalty in Barbados because of Ma’s wealth and stature in the country.  Meanwhile her biological mom was a hawker.  Mom use to tell me that her early days in Toronto and cosmetology studies in Chicago that she passed for Italian.  She told me a story of her time in Chicago when she worked at Montgomery Ward.  She didn’t understand why the other black workers on her floor would not go up to the other floors because she did with no problem.  She was a little bit naive. Eevn in Chicago in the late 50s early 60s there was segrated shopping floors, can you believe that. 

So my Dad was very dark and my mom is very light and my dad use to always be amazed by how my mom manuvered in the world.  My mom didn’t see color because color didn’t affect her too much. My dad had a whole other perspective and experience.  My dad came first to Canada and brought my mom up later.  My three siblings at the time stayed in Barbados. My mom had been in Canada just a few weeks and they were passing by the immigration office and Mom asked dad to pull over because she wanted to inquire about sponsoring and bring up her sister Barbara.  My dad quarrelled with her that it was too soon and that she shouldn’t go in the office.  Mom brushed it off, “I just want to get the information for later” she said.  Do you know that by the time my mother walked back out of the office she had all the paperwork necessary for her sister and Aunt Barbara was in Canada 30 days later. Mom had that je ne sai qoui, that charm, good looks and just a confidence in herself.  She tells me of tons of stories like this, where she meets opportunity, meanwhile Dad was often to scared to take the first step.   Dad had a different experince being a man, being a black man and his life in Panama I believe had a big influence on him as well.  He saw a very tiered system where you were treated very differently because of the color of your skin and social standing.  That really affected him.  I noticed that he was one of those old time black men that when he got around white people, he got very proper, yes maam, no maam. I always saw that switch and couldn’t understand why. But that’s jim crow for you and the remanants of slavery.

My brothers closest in age to me all remind me of my dad.  All have a different aspect of him.  Trevor, the gregarious, party planning, organizational leader and police officer/sargeant/detective. Ian also a police officer, stern, quiet serious. Paul the grouch, Can never say yes right off the bat to anything you request  of him. Always a gruff NO. even if he wanted to say yes.

My dad was part of the Barbados Ex-Police Association in Canada that put on Christmas parties for children, dances, picnics and other social activities to keep the community together. He was the manger of my mom’s salon and he loved journalism and newspapers and clipping articles and reading and listening to talk radio. In recent years with my mom’s altheziermer-she more frank-she says she could have left my dad 6 times but didn’t want to be a single mother with 7 children.  I’ll have to try and get more out of my mom about Dad and his life in Panama when I talk to her on the phone. I have a few weeks to get some info before I leave. I’ll ask my other siblings what they can remember as well.

I’ve been researching the Panama Canal Zone since 1999 and I want to acknowledge two people that influenced and gave the spark.  My international guidance counselor  Maria.  When my father died I was in grad school in San Francisco and Maria helped me to get a work visa so that I could work off campus to pay some of my way.  We had to obtain a copy of father’s death ceritficate and that’s when she really pointed out to me, Heather your Dad is from Panama, you have a latin american background.  And Michael Coniff in 1999 when the internet was still fairly new I found his book on the web. I either wrote or called him (probably called him) and days later his book Panama Canal Zone, Black Labor on a White Canal arrived in the mail to me.  It was quite a gesture.  and just a few years ago I met with him and his wife (2008) to talk about my plans to doing write now, this blog and my trip to Panama. Michael is a professor at San Jose State and at the time when I first contacted him he was in Florida.

With all of the sterness and stoic behavior my father expressed and my inability to really “get” and understand my father.  After reading Michael’s book , I “got” my father.  I completely understood him and understood the broken spirit.  From that day back in 1999 I was able to hold my father in the most compassionate light  that I could.  I understood the deep seated pain and sorrow that previously I had no reference or context for.


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