The Brothers Newman spent their last days in Central America together in the filthy city of San Jose, a city that bears no resemblance to its Californian counterpart. Being the adventurous duo that we have been raised to be, we sought challenges wherever remotely possible but the top museums in the city were closed for renovation while the zoo (annotated in our guidebook, circa 1997) greeted us with a rusted old chain around its doors--more likely keeping the wildly overgrown weeds inside more than anything else. At night, we came home to the confines of Hotel Asia and disturbances from the all-night bar just below. We seemed to have struck gold on a Monday night upon stumbling on a bar full of people only a block from the hotel. However, once we ordered the overpriced beers and observed the lewdly-dressed women throwing themselves at the crowd of mostly older gentlemen, we realized that we had not just seated ourselves at an ordinary bar and quickly left for a place where the women would not be asking us for our money.
Saying our farewells, my brother and I realized that we had not tried our taekwondo kicks on each other for the previous ten days. When smugly remarking that fact to our aggravated parents, we had a good laugh. It had been eight years since we spent that much time together and we began to understand the growing importance of family as we go our separate ways in the world. I pondered this as I took on the grueling seventeen-hour journey to Panama City, arriving just in time for the beginning of Carnaval.
A hardened traveler once again, I joined the other two gringos from the bus and arrived at my cushy hotel where I had the use of cable TV in my room and a swimming pool two floors away. After living with ants, roosters, and loud disco music for the previous week, this was a welcomed change. One of the gringos knew a local Panamanian, Enrique, who would become our guide throughout the Carnaval.
In four days, we celebrated Carnaval in three of the premier places to do so in Panama. In Panama City, the main street, Via Espana, was flooded with people practically every hour of the day. Walking through the wide avenue, I was startled several times by handfuls of confetti to the face. (I thought that I actually may have lost an eye at one point.) For two dollars, I armed myself with the latest in high-tech water firearms in order to defend myself against the five and ten year olds who would appear from behind sausage grills to attack me mercilessly. When I was not soaking wet, I lined up for one of the parades that ambled along the street, even once joining a band of merry rhythm drummers as they played to the delighted crowd. As I looked up, I saw my bright-yellow Ronaldo jersey on the big screen perched above the crowd and jumped around as the camera focused on us for several minutes.
In search of a well-rounded Carnaval, the Israeli, the Canadian (flag on backpack), the Panamanian guide turned friend, and I set off for the small town of Penenome. Penenome is famous for its river parade and culecos, which are trucks with fire hoses under which people dance and get soaked quite regularly. Probably the most notable aspect of this trip other than my purchase of quality swimwear for two dollars was the accomodation. Wandering around town, we scored the last two rooms left for miles around. Quite pleased with our perserverance, we laid down for a nap and realized that other than the cockroaches and intermittent availability of water, the reason for the availability of the rooms was that they were situated adjacent to the largest discoteca in town. Music began playing and 3pm and did not stop until about 7am. Those people can really party!#?#!$
Las Tablas was the last stop on the Carnaval tour and turned out to be my favorite. Another small town that otherwise would not be worthy of mention in any book meant for tourists, this place rocks like no other during the four days prior to Ash Wednesday. The pageantry and tradition of the parades combined with the variety and quality of street meats and super-fun culecos made for an unforgettable finale. However, the real finale to Carnaval occurred at 7am Wednesday morning when I awoke to the last fireworks of the parade. Yes, the parade had lasted throughout the entire night. I could not say the same for myself.
With one day before leaving for Roatan in Honduras and the second half of my trip, I went to where virtually every tourist goes as they visit this city: The Canal. Not an engineer by trade, I was still quite impressed by seeing the enormous ocean vessels being raised seven stories high by the displacement of water and opening and closing of the locks with the assistance from locomotives.
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