Bocas Del Toro

The week after Truus’ visit was without major happenings. I went back to Puerto Viejo and Manzanillo to hang out with Robb.
I did meet Eva, a beautiful lady, 24, from Alaska. I really enjoyed her fresh and cheerful energy and a few times we hang out to go to a waterfall, eat sushi or have a salsa dance in the bar with h. Of course I’ll visit her when I go to Alaska this autumn; Alaska became a lot more interesting all of a sudden.
The most interesting meeting was with Diana, 23, Costa Rican. She was more wild than most but could not talk or hear. So everything we made clear to her was by sighn language. She came out with us one night and we partied the whole night. For dancing she can feel the beat in her body, we told each other whole stories, about why whilte man are better then black, and black better then white and I taught her Mancala. Wow, at the end she got it, she really knew what to do and she loved it. Absolutely the best night there. She had two kids and was so proud.
It was also the first time I visited a commune: ‘Punta Mona’. There are a lot of places in, especially Costa Rica, where people go to relax, be together and learn something. This one was kind of hippy like. Everything was green and organic, people learn about planting and building and after working in the morning you’re free to do whatever in the afternoon. Meals are shared and there is ALWAYS yoga. Very interesting to see, and some people really find friends and same level minded people there, but for me, at least this one, was a little too floaty.

So, after a week I packed my bag and made my way to Panama. Bussing thru the biggest banana plantation I’ll ever see in my life, I hit the small border post: a railroad track over a huge river (this is quit often the case; that you cross a river to get to the other country). They didn’t let me in because I did not have a return ticket to Costa Rica. I had to buy a bus ticket to San Jose. Ehhh, no way was I gonna buy a $25 ticket that I was not gonna use. So I walked around, talked to the taxi man and came to the conclusion that I already was in Panama at this stage and that not getting a stamp was a petty for my collection but not really necessary. I just bussed further for the next leg of the trip, thru the Chiquita banana area.

With a twelve person panga we got speed-boated thru the old canals formerly used by the banana plantations and over the sea to archipielago de Bocas Del Toro, six large, mostly forested islands and scores of smaller ones; Isla Colon being the biggest island.

This ride over glass clear water and pass wooden houses with simple lifestyles made me incredible looking forward to the next few days. The Caribbean are really what you expect with the word, clear waters (you almost don’t need your snorkel and mask to see the corral, little islands with palm trees, white beaches, black people relaxing in hammocks, fish soup and a the sky is a certain blue I could not describe.

This week was gonna be sweet and new.
Straight out I went around to ask about the snorkel and scuba dive opportunities and at the end of the day I combined the information of 8 places and went to the one who offered me the tour for 15 dollars if I would bring a few more people who would pay 20 bucks. Those people were from a hostel (I had met them in the boat) and the next day was delightful. Sublime snorkeling in ‘El Jardin’, exploring the little ‘Isla Zapatilla’, more snorkeling, being amazed by playing dolphins in ‘Bahia Dolfina’ and enjoying the panga rides in between.

I was planning on moving on the next day, but my next meeting was about to happen.
The third night I came home to the cheap place I was staying at. The house (on poles in the water, you could see the blue water thru the floorboards in the whole building) had a dock. Every morning, for example, a panga came by to pick up the boys to go surfing, like a bus. This evening there was a yellow party boat tight to the dock. I had seen this yellow monster before during my explorations in town, but now it was tight to my dock. Everyone pulled my on board (it would hold 40 bodies or so) and we cruised around the town for a while, full moon included.
A guy was spitting fire and gave a show with the fire poi, and when we came to the bar where the boat belonged, he gave another show. A few days before I had encountered a guy in Puerto Viejo, spinning fire; he asked me if I wanted to try and of course I said yes. That was the first time I did my moves with fire. It went ok, no burns.
So this night I tried again. It was fun; I would love to practice more.
It was no sooner than at the total end of the night when I got talking to the guy who did the show. He walked the same way as me and after exchanging our route we discovered that he was the same guy who let me play with his poi that night in Puerto Viejo. We didn’t really recognize each other anymore.

The next days we spend more and more time together. Lenin, 34, from Honduras taught me a lot of Spanish, that’s what we spoke, and of course a lot of tips for my spinning.
I moved my stuff to the cheaper camping-in-a-house and met all the artesanistas who were in town at the moment. It was Awesome. Those real gypsies from everywhere were really living from day to day. A couple from Venezuela, a couple from Germany and Guatemala, a guy from Chili, two guys from Israel, A guy from Panama and a couple from Brazil and Belgium. During the day they would work on their jewelry and in the afternoon they would sell along the busy street.

Most of them played the jambee and many knew how to spin fire, with poi or devil sticks. So every night it was a party in the street. Lenin would pull the attention with his fire blowing and then we would all take turns spinning and making a round with the head. The first night we were with our man, the second night Lenin and I were alone and the last two nights we were with a huge group. It was really pure, to have so much fun while doing (at least for me) something I had just done for the first time and making money with it. Especially the gringos gave good dollars. The one night we were alone we each had 15 dollars I believe. Enough for the $4 camping, $4 food for the day and maybe a taxi ride to a beach or some travel. And this town was weak Lenin told me.
It really made me wonder if I could do this for a long time, if I could live like this, if this could be a lifestyle for me. I don’t think so, I think I’m more the type of working really hard in a country where there is a lot of money to be earned so I don’t have to worry about my bread every day. But for a little while I would definably not mind doing it. It’s very pure to make a show, get appreciation for it and buy a beer with that appreciation. I loved this week with Lenin, it’s something I will remember for a long time.

Beside the shows we visited different islands alone or with the whole group and the days passed like nothing; a fantastic week in Bocas with only burned eyebrows and eyelashes as accidental reminders hihihi.