Rodnitzki Adventures in Central America #3: Pumas and Treehouses

To the sounds of a bubbling creek, and with a treasured wifi connection which allows me to write on my bed in my little wooden cabin adjacent to that creek while in the coffee growing region of Panama's Boquete, I conclude our Costa Rican and commence our Panamanian adventures.

As I mentioned in my last note, our last days in Costa Rica were spent on the Osa Peninsula. After a day of lounging and kayaking while recovering from the full day's journey from Monteverde to the remote Osa, we awoke at 5am to set out on the 6am "collectivo" bus towards the Corcovado National Park (the reason people go to Osa-- that, or to look for gold in its rivers.) Bus is actually a misnomer: it is a covered pick up truck with hard benches, which would have been wonderful had there been room on them (our 5am wake up was with the intention of getting to the "bus" stop in time to beat the locals and get a seat--- yeah, right.) So Yuval hung on to the rafters and I sat on the wooden floor, the kids squeezed onto a spare tire and we made half of the two-hour bumpy journey on "the worst road in Costa Rica" (the writers hadn't been to the outskirts of Monteverde, apparently) in relative discomfort, until we got some bench space and then made the remainder of the journey in continued discomfort (but properly seated). Of course, Sheleg slept through the whole journey (how does she manage to do that??? I would patent it if I knew) Nonetheless, the bumps and dives were well worth the incredible day we had in Corcovada.

The trail-- an hour's walk along a pristine deserted Pacific beach (by the time we got ourselves organized, the others were well on their way and out of sight. Sometimes being a slow poke pays.) Waves crashing at decibels which demanded speaking in a loud voice-- clear blue sea to our left, jungle and coconut palms to our right, macaws flying and monkeys swinging above, literally. We reached the National Park entrance to be greeted by the discomforting news that there had been a puma attack on a child just two days earlier. I guess you could say that, like the scorpions in Monteverde, it is their natural habitat, and they are always there, just usually keeping to themselves. The wardens cautioned us to stay close together and to keep the kids in the middle, and assured us (as much as a warden can) that with caution, we should be fine.

This was not the first time we experienced that fear of going into the wild with unwelcome neighbors-- one was in Jasper when Yuval, with one-year-old Paz on his back, turned around pale with fear and whispered "Bear!!!!" as a brown bear crossed our path, spoiling our intentions of staying the night as we backtracked to the entrance (not knowing whether lactating women were an additional attraction for the creatures, and having read about two instances of bear maulings that very week) The other (pre-lactation) experience was during our 1997 trip to Nepal after waiting only five minutes to let a pair of known-aggressive rhinos that had been eyeing us venture into the jungle entrance which we then entered, and our subsequent sighting of a tiger (after five years of one not being sighted in the area)-- our guide looking as pale as Yuval did after the bear sighting (but Yuval was so excited that he tried to capture it on video, forgetting all fear). Anyway, I stray.

So we ventured into Corcovada, spotting a white nosed something-or-other (forget the name), tons of hermit crabs, one too many snakes, huge trees (didn't see Avatar but understand it is akin to the tree homes in the movie) and, thankfully, no puma. We stopped to swim in an idyllic river, where miniature frogs' hopping kept the kids busy as we rested under the shade of the jungle the better part of the morning, before continuing on in the jungle trail. Enjoying the moments when the kids called my attention to their various observations, such as noticing the way the shadows struck the stones in the few places where the sun seeped through the canopy. On the way back, after rejoicing that we had a puma-less journey, we soaked ourselves in cold water prior to setting back on the beach, where the kids kicked off their shoes and enjoyed looking for shells and stones (and monkeys and macaws.) The powerful rip tides made the water un-swimmable (and almost as fearsome as the puma due to the size and unpredictability of the waves) so we admired it in feet-deep distance, all of us cheering when the periodic mammoth wave that simply demanded standing ovations due to its sheer force as it hammered down on the shore. Then again, the two hour bumpy journey back, this time all three kids sleeping, Paz on Yuval and the girls on my lap, my muscles exhausted having spent the entirety of the ride holding them to prevent them from falling off the benches.

That evening, with Passover over, I could finally join my family in a filling pasta dinner. And then a good night's sleep for another 5am wake up to catch the ferry to make it to Panama.

And so, we reached Panama (a far far easier border crossing than that of Nicaragua-Costa Rica). Did you know that Panamanian currency is... American dollars?! Techinically it is the "Balboa", but no bills, only coins here and there-- dollars do the trick. I had no clue. Some say Panama got its independence from the US only in the year 2000 when the US officially handed over control of the Panama canal to Panama. But my impressions, with the many Pizza Huts, KFC's and Hershey products, let alone the American currency, is that I am in another US state, but with very much a Central American beat, and far better coffee.

Having reached the coffee-growing bread-basket canopy-covered region of Chiriqui, with the luxuries of America at dirt cheap prices (a full, huge lunch for five ravenous travelers, with barbequed/fried/grilled chicken, the locally-famous chicken soup- not for me, of course- fried plantains, lentils, rice, salad and more, including chilled glasses of the local beer, all under $20), outstanding Panamanian coffee to our heart's content, dirt-cheap hot fudge sundaes for the kids, and the sounds of the bubbling creek, we are thoroughly enjoying the experience. We ventured out yesterday to a waterfall, and the sight of the native Panamanian women in their traditional multi-colored dresses as we left this pituresque town is a reminder that we are in a country with a rich indigenous population....

The bubbling creek continues to bubble and it has lulled us to sleep for two nights. The kids have been sleeping in a tree house on the property-- they are tickled pink at the chance to sleep on a wooden platform above the creek (and I am excited that they are so excited).

But alas, we have reached the point where the end is in sight--- 3/4 complete, just over a week to go, two more destinations-- the palm-covered islands of Bocas del Toro and the hopping Panama City (and miraculous canal, which is what brought us this close to the equator.)

So in case there is no wifi on the remote Carribean island that we intend to reach today, have no worries, we are simply having a ball.