So Monday morning, I wake up to a stopped bus. I figure it is just a bathroom stop since it is still very early. But then everyone seems to be getting off, my clock says 3am and with the 4am time change it would have still just been a 5 hr bus ride when it was supposed to take another 8 hours. I guess it doesn't take quite as long when you go in the middle of the night.
I decide to hang out in the very large and modern bus station as I wait for it to get light (I didn't know if reception would be open or not at my hostel and didn't want to find myself standing out on a dark street). I get myself a metro card (I'm excited to finally be able to utilize public transit), try to get a card for the pay phone too so I could call the hostel instead, and get myself some cash (Panama uses American Dollars so now even though I still don't understand when they tell me prices in rapid Spanish at least I understand the currency unlike the Costa Rican Colon).
When I finally go ahead and get a taxi to my hotel a guy tells me it will be $10. This sounds outrageous to me (the guide book says anywhere in Panama City shouldn't cost more than $4), but since he started so high I only bargain down to $8. Later in the week my Spanish teacher says that even $6 from the bus station to Casco Viejo, they're ripping you off. Oh well, I guess I just need to get better at walking away.
Once I got to the hostel I tried offering to pay for the previous night for a bed (I had gotten an e-mail from my new school that I wouldn't be having classes till the afternoon) but they were completely full. The receptionist said I wouldn't be able to check-in till 1 and gave me a key to the very full luggage room and sent me on my way. I found my way to a quiet and in-descript coffee shop where I spent a couple hours regrouping.
Afterward, I walked around a bit in my new neighborhood of Casco Viejo catching some of the beautiful views of the city. I found my way to my school to pay for the week of classes and check-in. I then went to have lunch in a pretty touristy little cafe with menus in English where I was able to spend some time with my Spanish notes. I realized I needed more paper and decided to walk down to the supermarket that I'd asked at the school where to find.
My walk out of the tourist area, old town, was awesome! Still old buildings, reminiscent of New Orleans style. Tons of activity, colors, and vibrancy! Some of the indigenous dress down here is also so vibrant and colorful. It has so many parts to it, including the beaded sleeve that goes around their calves. By the time I found some paper and paid I was a bit late for my class and hurried back to the school.
My class is huge compared to what I've had so far. 4 of us ladies and one male teacher! Grace is a Korean-Canadian who is a Environmental Engineer and moved down here with her boyfriend. Donna is an American-Canadian who is planning to move to Mexico for work. And Ursula is a partially retired social worker from Germany.
It is so much different with a larger class! Ursula is the most talkative and I think there is some judgement about different styles of learning the language. Plus there are definite gaps in my learning where I don't know what the teacher is saying but others in which I am ahead of others in the class.
Also, I am really disliking having my classes in the afternoon. Mornings are difficult for me to get going and out of the hostel without the structure of a morning class. I feel like I'm missing out on this amazing city by having this obligation in the middle of the day to be in class.
Once back at the hostel and checking-in I find myself bombarded with being recognized. Yukki, one of the guys I had been hanging out with in Guatemala was at the hostel, then Ursula appeared too, staying at the hostel for the week. When I finally make it to my room with my backpack, it is also very overwhelming. A dorm of 12 people, everyone is on top of each other, there is no space for anything!
After finding Yukki again and briefly catching up with him I make my way back to the more local part of town for dinner. The diner I go to has been recommended by several sources but I find it to be one of the worse diners I have ever been to. I realize it is tied with the diner I went to in Tiburon when I lived there over the summer. Reflecting back I think how crazy my life is! Was it really just this last summer that I was in a dramatically different diner that is somehow comparative to this diner in Panama City? But at least this one has people watching going for it. It is absolutely filled with life and diversity while the one in Tiburon only had rich, white, retired folks.
Then also reflecting on my day, the many worlds I had been among in just a 24 hour period. Just 24 hours prior, crossing the chaotic and disorganized border. The quiet bus ride, the safe-haven sort of tourist lunch spot, the hectic hostel full of foreigners from all over, and now this very local hang-out spot. So many worlds, so many different experiences evoking very different emotions all in one day! I think this is one of the things I like best about Panama City, you only have to walk a couple blocks to have experiences worlds apart from one another.
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