Hospital tour, a missing bank, apartment hunting, and drinking with missionaries

Hospital Tour and Missing Bank

On Wednesday, 1/14, or 14/1 as these crazy folks like to say, we had a tour of the fanciest hospital in town, Hospital Punta Pacifica.  It’s affiliated with Johns Hopkins and is up in the part of town that I described in the last post with all the fancy condos.  It was interesting.  Half of the hospital was what you would think of as a normal hospital, and the other half was a one stop shop for all of your other doctors’ offices.  Pretty good idea, actually.  You can find a primary care doctor, an optometrist, a neurologist, and a psychiatrist all on the same hall.  Not bad.

Right in the center though, was a row of kiosks with representatives from various medical insurance companies hawking their plans.  Very strange.

So the tour was interesting to me in that our guide took us ALL over the hospital.  Want to see the intensive care unit?  Let’s just walk right in.  Emergency room?  Hey, this guy looks like he’s in pain!  The room where they resuscitate people (do we have a word for this in English?  I couldn’t come up with one.  It’s like a room full of crash cart stuff.)?  Sure…come on in.  No warning not to touch stuff…no problem.  Eek.

Eric walked out thinking it was exactly like an American hospital, only not crowded.  There were empty beds, no one was in a rush, there didn’t seem to be a lot of people waiting in the ER.  Some of the accommodations were nice.  You could have your own suite if you wanted to pay $400/night with an extra room with couches for your family members.  I think I just still have this idea stuck in my head that American medicine is best and nothing else can measure up.  Very Ameri-centric thinking, I guess you’d say?  Something akin to racism, but maybe more like nationalism…only not in the real meaning of the word.  Anyway, I’m not to the point of saying that I’d be perfectly comfortable sending a friend’s baby with a congenital heart defect to Punta Pacífica rather than to my sister, but maybe I’m more biased than most.

After the hospital tour, we set out on what should have been a 16 minute walk (in 95 degree heat) to, not the mall right next to the hospital, but the other mall right next to the other hospital.  There was supposed to be a bank in that mall, and I was going to try my hand at getting us a bank account.  Or I was at least going to see if they were willing to deal with Americans.  I’ve been really nervous about this because it seems a little important.  Apparently we need to have access to money down here in order to get by.  Long story short, the walk did not take 16 minutes, my delicate self had to stop for an emergency limón sorbet in the middle of the trek so I wouldn’t fall out, there was no bank, and we decided to call it and walk home.  Why we walked home, I can’t remember.  Here’s a picture from the walk:

On our long HOT walk back from our hospital tour and search for the non-existant bank.

On our long HOT walk back from our hospital tour and search for the non-existent bank.

I don’t know why we were smiling because we hadn’t accomplished anything and it was miserable.  When we got home, we crushed a few glasses of water, then closed ourselves in Eric’s office/the guest room, turned on the a/c in there, and I fell asleep for a few hours out of pure exhaustion from the heat.

Apartment Hunting

Yesterday we checked out an apartment in a fancy building about 5 blocks down towards the old city.  I was excited about this one because it’s a newer building, it’s in the part of town where we want to be, and Eric was actually going to get to come with me to see it.  So you can imagine how excited he was when we walked into the lobby and saw this:

Silly purple lobby of the fancy building we looked at yesterday (15/1)

Silly purple lobby of the fancy building we looked at yesterday (15/1)

I thought it was awesome.  Completely over the top and ridiculous, but really?  How often do you get to live in a place like this?  And it’s just the lobby.  It’s not like this is your living room.  I love it.

The building was fancy – 65 floors, 3 or 4 years old, 3 “social areas,” a gym, an indoor lap pool, a sauna – b/c who doesn’t want to go sit in a hot room after spending a day outside in Panama? – a turkish bath, 2 pools, one of which is just for adults and is on the top floor:

The pool on the 65th floor of this incredible apartment building.  Too bad the layout of the apartment just didn't make sense b/c the building was amazing!  Even had an indoor lap pool...you know, where the water moves and you stay in one place!

The pool on the 65th floor of this incredible apartment building. Too bad the layout of the apartment just didn’t make sense b/c the building was amazing! Even had an indoor lap pool…you know, where the water moves and you stay in one place!

Here’s the view from the top of the building.  I can never quite get the panoramic photos to turn out right using my phone, but you get the idea.

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So everything was great…except for the apartment.  Lovely, but there were no windows in either bedroom.  The guest bedroom was tiny and you’d have to use the a/c all the time.  And that’s just not an option when full time a/c would cost $800/month.  The master had a door to the balcony, but not a window that you could just leave open all the time.  In a weird way, we’re getting spoiled in our little old apartment here because there are wonderful cross-breezes.  We’re not going to get that in a giant building.  Anyway, we passed on that apartment.

Bichos and Dinner with New Friends

Last night, right before we left for dinner, I was sitting on our bed looking for jobs online.  We have been trying to figure out how this whole thing works.  You have your windows open in the evenings for the breeze because you don’t want to have to pay for a/c yet, but you don’t want to turn on the lights because that would attract bugs.  For the first several nights, we sat mostly in the dark and only turned on lights for brief moments when we had to.  From our window, it looks like most of the other apartments are dark early too.  Is this just what people do?  It seems silly.

Anyway, I had the light from my computer last night, so I was fine.  I saw a bug fly at my computer, and figured that was to be expected.  Then a few moments later, I saw another.  Then one crawled on my hand.  Then one seemed to crawl under my screen and down between the screen and the keyboard.  I started to wonder how many of these things there were.  I turned on the light and these things were EVERYWHERE.  All over my computer, possibly crawling inside it, all over our bed, on the pillows, on the sheets, on the bedspread, on the floor.  Eric called them ants at first, but they would fly in, land, immediately lose their wings, then start crawling along like tiny inch worms.  Disgusting.  Still have no idea what they were.  We managed to shake out the sheets and kill the ones on the floor and grab a bunch in Kleenexes off the pillows and bedspread.  I shook the pillows out the window a few times…a bit obsessively because, you know, there were tiny flying worms in my bed.

And then we were just supposed to go to dinner.  So we did.  Because…Panama.  I did, however, take a minute to email the owner of the apartment to say, hey, this happened and it was gross…is it normal?  What are they?  How do you kill them?  Will this happen again?  I don’t know what I expect her to do about it, but I like to tell her when something is disgusting here, and I think that counts.

So anyway, after the flying worm invasion, we met up with the missionary couple from South Carolina, Michael and Tricia, that we met at church on Sunday.  You know, the ONLY other people who were there besides the pastor and his wife?  They invited us to dinner, so we met them in El Cangrejo on a happenin’ street called Via Argentina.  That is the place to be on a Friday or Saturday night.  Or a Thursday, apparently.  It’s pretty much all bars and restaurants, and a ton of people were out last night.  We picked a place that had all kinds of food, and we found out that it’s open 24 hours a day.  Excellent.

We had heard that Panamanians aren’t fantastic at customer service, and this was our first good example of that.  Our waitress was completely annoyed with the idea of having to, well, do her job.  She rolled her eyes when my menu was slightly in the way of her putting my drink down, she refused to try to understand my spanish, even when I was just saying “Sí” to agree with what she was saying, and she never smiled.  The best part was that when she handed Eric the bill at the end of the meal, SHE had already written in the tip for herself!  It’s not like it was a standard printed 10% or whatever.  She had decided that we were going to give her a certain amount.  Is that a thing?  Can you even do that?!  Well, she did.

We had a great time with Michael and Tricia Lee though.  We heard the story of how they got into missionary work, about their kids and two one year-old grandkids, as well as their one year in Costa Rica for language school and 3 years in Mexico.  And it turns out, my Aunt Angela in Georgia is friends with a lady who is “VERY good friends” with the Lees.  Small world.

After dinner we walked down the street to La Rana Dorada, the Golden Frog, and tried out their craft beers.  We talked for another hour or so, then headed towards metro, just in time to find out that it closes at 10.  We could’ve walked home, but it would’ve taken a while and it was the witching hour for the huecos de muerte, so we cabbed it home.

Today I really need to make it to a bank, if they’ll stop hiding from me, and then I’m going to see another apartment.  I found one online, then right after I made an appointment to see it, the realtor that I’ve been working with sent me pictures of the exact same apartment.  Oops.  I felt like I was cheating on her.  I tried the whole just tell the truth thing, and she insisted that I cancel with the other lady and let her make an appointment.  That’s what I did, but now I’m regretting it.  It’s just that the original realtor has done so much for me already…I guess that’s how they get you.  Oh well.  Guess I burned my first Panamanian bridge.  This is the first apartment in the building that I’ve really been wanting to see, so I’m excited.

Oh, and in case anyone is wondering about our doggies, they’re doing just fine.  In fact, I think they are enjoying “camp” more than they like being with us.

Addie at camp.  Looks like a rough life.  What is that?  3 blankets?

Addie at camp. Looks like a rough life. What is that? 3 blankets?

Rylee, our 6 year old niece, used her new sewing machine to make a pillow for CB.  She even tried it out for him before she gave it to him.  He looks thrilled with it.  So sweet.  I think our puppies are doing okay.

Rylee, our 6 year old niece, used her new sewing machine to make a pillow for CB. She even tried it out for him before she gave it to him. He looks thrilled with it. So sweet. I think our puppies are doing okay.

I’ll leave you with a couple of pics of our apartment.  One of our living room and one of Eric’s office/our guest room.  Only a couple more weeks before we’ll have our first guest!

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Huecos de Muerte and the Fancy Part of Town

Two main things to cover today.  We discovered on our very first night here that the sidewalk had a giant death hole in it.  Turns out they are all over the city.  We now refer to them as “Huecos de Muerte,” or Death Holes because I’m pretty sure some of them could kill you.  Seriously, some of them are big enough for the clown from the movie It to hide in.  Eek!  There is no texting and walking around here, which makes navigating on Google Maps tricky.  I’ve started pulling over to the side, checking my map, and then proceeding along my route.  I’m not taking any chances.  I’ve taken a few photos of some, but there are two problems with taking pictures of them.  First, taking a picture down into a hole doesn’t give you any idea of how deep it is.  Secondly, the worst ones tend to come out at night.  But for what they’re worth, here they are…

Eric en un Hueco de Muerte

Eric en un Hueco de Muerte

Hueco de Muerte

Hueco de Muerte

Hueco de Muerte

Hueco de Muerte

 

Last night we turned left instead of right down Avenida Balboa (northeast, I suppose), and headed towards the fancy part of town called Punta Pacífica.  That’s where Trump Tower is, along with all of these exclusive condo buildings, including The Point, which Wikipedia calls the tallest all residential building in the western hemisphere.  I guess if you break it down like that, you can have a tallest [insert specifics here] building anywhere.  Anyway, we hiked around all of the huge condo buildings until we got to the bottom of it.  I trust wiki.  It’s tall.  And I say that we hiked because this city has a lot more hills than you would imagine!  I was definitely out of breath when we got to the middle of the hill that led to The Point.  Strange since it’s right on the water.

Looking towards Punta Pacifica near the beginning of our walk.  The Point is the tall one all the way to the right.

Looking towards Punta Pacifica near the beginning of our walk. The Point is the tall one all the way to the right.


Punta Pacífica

Punta Pacífica

Towards Casco Viejo (the old city)

Towards Casco Viejo (the old city) with Punta Pacífica behind us.

Today was a business day.  Eric worked all day while I got some errands done.  I looked at an apartment and practiced my Spanish with the realtor, got copies of our passports and entrance stamps made and laminated, and checked out a Spanish language school.  It doesn’t sound like a lot, but when it’s all over the city, 90 degrees, no car, and all in Spanish, it makes for a long hot day.

Tomorrow we’ll get a tour of the Johns Hopkins affiliated hospital (kinda just because they offered), then head to the bank.  We have no idea whether they’ll allow us to open an account.  The States have made it a big pain for Panamanians to let Americans have accounts here, so a lot of banks just don’t want to mess with us.  Apparently it’s a lot of paperwork.  So we’ll go in armed with all kinds of IDs, 8 letters of recommendation from banks and other businesses, promises to give them our firstborn, slaughtered lambs, and the like, and we’ll see what happens.  If you think about it, please say a prayer.  We’d really like to be able to get some money down here.  It could make paying rent or buying a car or, well, a lot of things really difficult if we can’t open an account.  Oh, and if you have an extra prayer for my nerves, that’d be great.  If I’m already a pain because I get nervous and lose all my Spanish suddenly, that might not help us.  Hopefully the teller will speak slow, clear, non-Panamanian sounding Spanish.  Fingers crossed.

Thanks for keeping up with us!  We appreciate your support more than you know!  Love to all of you.

Tracking down the church & Texting us for Free!

First I want to share photos from our going-away party last week.  Eric’s brother, Ray, and his wife, Jennifer, were incredibly welcoming to all of our friends and family as they shared their home with everyone for a big send-off party on January 3.  Jennifer prepared an amazing spread that everyone enjoyed, there was a full bar, the last of the wine and beer from our wedding (7 months later!), and tons of friends and family who drove from all over to wish us well.  Our sweet friends Jake and Brittany even drove all the way from Pittsboro (over an hour?!) after another party to be with us.  It was all very special, and we felt very loved.  Here are some photos from that night.  I just regret that we didn’t get one of our hosts!

So back to our adventures in Panama.  Yesterday we had planned to go to the Iglesia Presbiteriana de Panama – the Presbyterian Church of Panama – at 11:30 am for worship service.  Let me set the scene first.  You might imagine that there are not many Presbyterian churches in Panama, but what you might not imagine is that there are actually only TWO in the whole country.  And this one happened to be diagonally across the street from our building.  Amazing.  They have a Facebook page, so I checked it out, trying to figure out how big of a church could fit inside this building with a shop advertising cement work, painters, etc.  Here are some of the photos I found.

iglesia iglesia 5 iglesia 4

So we left our place with the necessary two minutes to walk over to the church, but when we arrived…it was completely empty.  Why?  Because Panama.  (I don’t know if I’ve explained that response before, but whenever something doesn’t make sense and one of use asks why it is the way that it is, the answer is “Because Panama.”)

Turns out they had decided to meet at an apartment across town at 3 pm instead, and they offered to call me to give me directions.  I facebooked them back, explaining that I got really nervous speaking Spanish on the phone, and since there are no addresses in Panama and directions are confusing anyway, maybe it’s better that they just facebook me back with directions.  She quickly wrote back asking for my phone number.  Perfect.

My phone immediately rang.  I took a deep breath, and Eric started laughing at me.  This very nice woman said hello, then started giving me the most convoluted directions ever.  I asked her if she could please slow down a little, but she gave up on me and handed the phone to her husband, who I later found out was the pastor and the most difficult man to understand in all of Panama.  As you might imagine, that didn’t go well either, although he didn’t give me much of a chance either.  He ended up telling me he was going to call his English speaking friend and he would have that guy call me.

My phone rang again, and a nice guy with a South Carolina accent said “Hey, this is Michael Lee.  I’m a missionary with MTW, and Pablo said you need directions.”  Wonderful!  Lo and behold, he couldn’t give me directions either.  Why?  Because Panama.  After a couple of minutes, he decided that it was just easier to meet us at the metro station and walk with us to the apartment.  When some of the streets have two names, some of them have signs and some don’t, none of the buildings have addresses, and only some of them have clearly marked names on the buildings.

Anyway, we got to the apartment and found out that the whole “church” that would be at the service would be the missionary couple (Michael and his wife Tricia), the two Panamanians I spoke to on the phone (the pastor, Pablo, and his wife, Elisabeth), and Eric and me.  That’s it.  From what I could gather, it’s a weird transition time for the church.  It’s normally very small, as you could see from the photos, but there are also old missionaries going out and new ones coming in.  Michael and Tricia only got to Panama on Wednesday, the day before we arrived.  But the result was a nice experience for us.  We had the opportunity to worship with these folks in a VERY intimate setting, the challenge of hearing a fast-speaking Panamanian pastor’s sermon, and the luxury of translators to ease any awkwardness that might otherwise have arisen.  I still spoke mostly Spanish while I was there, even when the South Carolinians spoke English to Eric and/or me.

We ended up spending three hours with these two couples, mostly just chatting about the Lees’ past missionary experiences in Mexico and language school in Costa Rica, Pablo and Elisabeth’s experiences trying to grow the church, as well as general talk about Panamá and the Interior, as the part of the country outside “Panama City,” as we Gringos call it, is called.  It was intellectually taxing, but a good experience overall.  It was also good to add phone numbers to our contact lists.

That brings me to WhatsApp.  Does anyone use this?  This is a great way to text me for free while we’re here.  Download the App, then add me as a contact in your regular contacts list on your phone with the phone number +507-6759-6620.  I should pop up in WhatsApp.  You can text me through that for free, rather than us having to pay to text internationally.  Everyone down here uses it because texting is expensive here.  Eric thinks it’s stupid and just uses Google Messenger or whatever, which is fine too, if you want to be like that.

Eric’s number is +507-6759-6633.

The night ended with a little chicken schwarma at a place right outside the metro.  Lovely.  And relaxing.

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