Panama is the kind of place where you can back up on the freeway. I should know, because I did it. And I wasn’t the only one. Here, if you miss your exit, shift into reverse and hope for the best!
Panama is the kind of place where you can show your bare midriff, no matter your age. No matter your size! And no matter your taste in revealing clothes. Sequins are very big here. Who needs a holiday or party? Every day is a good day to show some sparkle . . . and a generous gut, too!
Panama is the kind of place where a waitress might answer her cell phone . . . while she’s serving your table. Gossip is like restaurant food—you got to get it while it’s hot!
Panama is the kind of place where a driver can hold his infant child in one arm, and the steering wheel of his Toyota in the other. Where bikers seem to believe their caps afford the same protection as a helmet. And where the rare jogger might be wearing a knit stocking cap and full sweats . . . in 85 degree weather.
Panama is the kind of place where bright yellow jungle flowers practically explode from the limbs of jade green trees, while piles of garbage fester nearby. The jarring contrast between natural beauty and manmade ugliness makes your head spin. My environmentalist daughter sees education opportunities in Panama. I see . . . well even though I’m an optimist, this is Panama, so I don’t know.
I’ve heard that Panama is one of the top five places in the world to retire. That’s true if you’re measuring weather and cost of living. Panama is a wonderful place, with exuberant, friendly people. At the same time Panamanians see the world differently from most Americans. Certain basic values now embraced in the U.S. (like safety precautions and picking up your own garbage) sometime seem in short supply here.
But in February, when life is gray back home, I can accept the difference much more easily.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment