our man in panama

Just back from our tropical Thanksgiving trip to Rodrigo and Gladys in Panama. The Swimming Pool of Love and his Cookie treated us to a perfect mix of hanging out, chatting, swimming, wining dining – those three years since our time in New York felt like a week. Great to finally meet the two of them in their natural biotope of eternal summer and pacific humidity.



It takes some time to find your bearings in Panama – it has the Pacific Ocean to the south (sometimes even southeast), and the Atlantic to the north.

After having agreed on “mainly beach”, we drove out of the city along the Miraflores locks of the Canal, passing Arraijan - indeed “at right hand” from the highway – down to Santa Clara, where Rod’s uncle/globetrotter Enrique has found his most recent destination in a wonderful beach house.



The compound – a Panamanian maggiarda – is a project-in-progress, under supervision of arquitecto Guardia.





Noriega had his beach house right next to Rick’s place. While former “strongman” is spending his days in a Miami jail, his villa has been left to rot for about 18 years now (above)… Still better for Rick and Karen than a tower hotel development next door.



We got to meet a fair share of the Guardia clan - Rod's parents in the city, Rick and Karen our generous hosts at the beach, Don Quiqui and the others on DVD. On Saturday we drove inland, for a visit to Penonomé, hometown to the Guardias.



Penonomé (“where Nomé was in pain”) is also Panama’s geographical center. Recently, the marker stone been closed off to prevent wildpeeing on the center of the country (see pic).



Joining an Ultimate Frisbee game with Rod (the Bod) and his team, under Ciudad del Saber's darkening skies.



So easy and rewarding, a trip to our Caribbean friends – barely a five hours flight, same timezone, different season. From strong morning light over Panama City to a colorful sunset in Manhattan.



Back home, caught in a cosmic cycle, Candi found out that Jeff Buckley – him again - is half-Panamanian.