December 12th, 2007

Last week, our friends Skip and Linda Shipman came to visit. One of the things I had always wanted to do was find the fish market down on the coast, which someone had mentioned to me in passing but with no directional details. So, S&L and I went on a hunt for the fish market.

By asking directions at almost every intersection, we did find the fish cooperativa which was on the beach, a short walk from the parking area. A she got out of the car, Linda put her watch in the front pocket of her slacks, since the watch was irritating her skin. Unbeknownst to her, she had a hole in that pocket and when she realized it (couldn't have been more than five minutes later), the watch had been found and the finders were gone.

After we bought the fish (robalo, as fresh as you could have it) and shrimp (enormous, 7 to the pound!), we stopped at the police station in Gorgona, where the fish cooperativa is. Between Skip and I, we explained the situation, that there was no point in returning to search the area, and that we only needed a police report for the insurance. After about 15 minutes, the lady cop got in the car with us and directed us to the main police station in Chame (about five minutes eastward). Along the way, she touched Skip's shoulder and said "Tranquila" because our boy was not happy nor patient person.

At Chame, the police lady reported our problem and the record making guy said we had to go to Panama City, where there was an official interpreter. Much smiling and begging later, he had called his superior and received permission for a guy sitting in the office to translate for us. This guy, along with his friend, were in the police station to report a break-in at their hotel, and the theft of several things, including a gun. (This is interesting: the owner of the gun is responsible for whatever happens as a result of using the gun, no matter who uses it. So, it was therefore, vital to him to make an official report that the gun had been stolen, which released him from responsibility for subsequent actions.)

So, perhaps an hour and a half later, with the help of the unofficial translator, the police report was produced. By the way, all the Panamanians were surprised that an insurance company would pay, based on a police report (I will tell you more about insurance in Panama later). We gave the unofficial translater $5 and a five-pack of beer (Skip had one); he was delighted. And, as a postscript, Skip just told us that the insurance company was accepting the police report and would pay up based on that. So, it was worth the wait.

Our Christmas tree arrived yesterday by bus. Rene's son, Nigel, bought trees for her and us, and had them transported up here, on top of one of the commuter buses. What a sight!

And a P.S. to the previous posting: no, the gardner did not show up on the day promised for fixing the road. He showed up on his normal day, and used part of that day to fix the road. Unacceptable. I decided not to confront him, or get angry at him, but rather just to ignore him. He is well aware, as all drunks are, that he has misbehaved. Yesterday, his regular day here, I noticed several new potted plants on the terrace. It is not going to be that easy for me to forgive his bad behavior!

December 6th, 2007

I made a big mistake last week, and am waiting today to see what the consequences are. The lane in front of our house is sandy/muddy and terribly pot-holed, and is becoming increasingly difficult to use because it is so rutted and muddy. Everyone here "fixes" their portion of these secondary roads by putting down loads of big stones and then sand.

I finally asked our gardener to arrange the stones and to dig the french drains, etc. etc. We agreed on a price and he was to start on Saturday and then finish up yesterday. He did start on Saturday, and then Sunday came to the house, asking for the total agreed-upon sum for the job.

I was distracted and not thinking straight, so I gave him all the money. In retrospect, I realize that he wanted the money to take his friends drinking (there was a live band in the beer hall on Saturday night; the band finished about 5 am Sunday but its audience seems to have continued celebrating all day Sunday). Well, needless to say, the gardner didn't arrive yesterday. Today is the normal day for the gardner. I wonder if he will show up, and, if he does, what the story will be. And I wonder what my reaction will be to the lie. This is a very wierd situation, isn't it? His family must hate me for enabling his drunkness.