The Haircut

The other day I noticed my hair was starting to get a bit on the shaggy side. I’ve been keeping it mostly short, because, well, it’s pretty hot here. So I started to weigh my options on what to do. Since my time down here I have done a few different things. A Peace Corps friend cut it, I’ve cut it (oh my), and I have had my counterpart, Sergio, buzz it. As I was thinking about this, I came upon my decision. It was time to get my haircut in a Panamanian barber shop.

I have noted that Panamanian can be very particular about their hair. They love to use razors to make clean cut lines and definitely put time into detail. So I figured I didn’t have much to lose. Besides, in two weeks who would notice anyways?

I made my way into the barber shop with the standard ‘buenas’. The barber got an excited look on his face and pointed to the chair. I was up. While sitting down, I looked around the shop and felt like I was pretty much in an American barber shop. Namely, they had the older barbers and he even older guys that just hang out.

Now it was time to get down to business. I debated whether to ask for the Larry Fine, but in the end decided to keep directions to a minimal. In this instance, my limited Spanish vocabulary wasn’t a hindering factor. I just wanted him to go where the hair cutting spirits took him.

With that, we were off. Right away a big clump of my hair came falling down, and I knew he was going to go short. About halfway through, the barber opened up a drawer, took out five bucks and headed out the door. No word on where he was going or what. After about five minutes, he reappeared. With razors, no less. I was going to the razor treatment!

As the hair cut continued along, I was quite certain that never before had I had so many different clippers sizes taken to my hair. He must have changed around the sizes five times. I did get a little razor action, but no where near what I was hoping for. And in the end, I ended up getting a pretty regular haircut.

But at least I got a lame entry idea from it.

The Gritar

You may recall, ok, probably not, but back when I wrote about my day in the rice field, I mentioned an activity called 'gritar'. In fact, this is what I wrote:

Another interesting activity is the yelling that occurs about once every half hour. Basically, one person lets out a scream that I don’t even know how to translate it into a typed word. I’m sorry. Come visit me and you can experience it firsthand. After that person lets his ‘grita’ (or scream) out, another person answers that call. And they go back and forth a couple times. Sometimes another person joins in as well. That’s when it really takes off.

Well, now you don’t have to worry about coming to visit me, because a friend of mine put up a video of the activity on YouTube. So, click on this link, and enjoy.

The New President

You might recall a couple months ago that there were elections here in Panama. Well, yesterday was the inauguration for the new president Ricardo Martinelli. Here is what one paper had to say about the upcoming term for the new president who came into office promising change.

Martinelli, who brought together several opposition parties under the banner, "Alliance for Change," said that he will reduce red tape and offer a leaner, more efficient government.

He said that he will end the tradition of elected leaders "arriving clean and leaving millionaires," which reiterated one of his most popular campaign slogans, and said that the needs of the people will come first in his administration. One of his promises was to provide a pay increase for police officers, viewed as a way to reduce crime, and to give a pension to indigent senior citizens of $100 per month.

Other program outlined by the new president included the construction of low-income housing, the construction of a metro system and the titling of land.

One thing I find funny is the line about arriving clean and leaving millionaires. Because Martinelli is already a millionaire! However, a lot of the things that Martinelli outlined could have a positive effect on Panama, especially the metro system (traffic in Panama City is awful), low cost housing, and titling of the land.

There was one thing that shocked me about yesterday, though. The fact there was no fireworks in my community. I mean, people set them off for anything from celebrating Mother’s Day to having a little fun while drinking, but yesterday there were none. My community was strong supporters of Martinelli, too. So maybe there will be some change in Panama coming up.

The New Team

When I was a kid, and really up until recently there were only two pro teams that I hated – the LA Lakers and the New York Yankees. While my dislike of the Lakers runs true today (maybe even more so now), I have changed my stance on the Yankees. Yikes.

What happened? Well, about a week or so ago I was talking to my dad, when he asked me if I had seen how the Dodgers were doing this year. I told him, I did, but the team I was now following was the Yankees. After a few seconds of awkward pausing, he belted out “the Damned Yankees”. For a second I felt like I had betrayed my father. Meanwhile, I’m sure he was worried about a lot of things that could go bad for his boy while down here, but I’m sure he never foresaw this doomsday scenario.

So I had/have to explain myself. Or at least try. Prior to coming down to Panama, a friend’s dad had been down here some for business and he told me that everybody is a Yankee’s fan, because Mariano Rivera is from here. I have found this to be pretty true, but there is a mixture more so now than there was ten years ago when the Yankees won their World Series’.

The first family I lived with down here, the dad was a Yankee’s fan. While I impressed him by rattling off last year’s roster for him, I wasn’t sucked in. There wasn’t enough time.

Fast forward to me living in my community, and my good friend who lives across the street who is an older gentleman that is Yankee fan. He and his family own the little store that sells various things to our part of the community. Each morning and afternoon, he’s in front of the store with his Yankee’s cap on while watching the day’s proceedings. I always make it a point to stop by and chat with him each day.

And inevitably we started to talk about baseball. I told him about my one trip to Yankee stadium, and from there it bloomed. Now with baseball season going on, each day I ask if the Yankees won or lost. He fancies himself a big fan of the team even if he can only name Rivera, Jeter and depending on the day ARod, but he’s in the game. These conversations have brought me to where I’m at today, always wondering if they won or lost the night before while secretly hoping they won.

I’m not proud of it, really. But to make amends for my wayward ways I’ve converted my friend into a fan of…


…so you know it’s not all bad.

The Frisbee

With the rainy season now here, baseball in the afternoon has started to dwindle. While it is a shame that the games have gone away, it is even a bigger shame that playing soccer started to fill the vacuum that was left behind. And in my book that is a big no-no. I just don’t get soccer. I wanted to try to get more into it while I was down here, but it’s just not happened.

So I started to think of other ways to try to stay active and in touch with the kids in my community without having to play soccer. When I was home in the states, my friend Holly bought me a nice Frisbee to take back down here. A couple times, I would bring it to the field and try to pass it with the kids. At first, a couple of them took to it, but their inability to throw it really frustrated them. But they were semi-interested and since I was not interested in soccer, I continued to bring it along.

This past Saturday it was time to make the leap to trying to play a game of ultimate Frisbee. I tried to explain the rules as best I could and had two kids pick teams. With that, I threw the Frisbee to the other team and we were underway. There was some confusion in the beginning in trying to get them to understand when possession changes and you can’t run with the Frisbee in your hand, but after a couple false starts, the game started to take shape.

My favorite moment happened when one of the kids picked up the Frisbee and threw it when it was suppose to be the other team’s Frisbee. I told him that it wasn’t his throw and he immediately picked up what he did wrong. The ‘ah ha’ moment if you will. That was pretty cool to see.

One of the neat things I get to experience is exposing the kids to new things. It is cool to see when kids pick up something new, because they get so excited. The same thing happened last week when I was teaching a typing game to one class. I was working with one girl and when she got the hang of the game, she practically hopped out of her seat in excitement.

I hope to see a lot more of these ‘ah ha’ moments and a lot less soccer.

The Pista

Over the past couple weeks I have been really enjoying my new bike. No more what seemed to be forever walks down to the port in humid weather while sweating through my shirt. It’s now a nice jaunt at approximately 10 mph.

I’ve even been able to stretch my legs out on a couple longer rides. The exercise has been great. But enough about that. This entry doesn’t need to be approved by Richard Simmons. I think each one of you (what, there is like 10 people left reading?) knows the benefits of exercise. Well, except for my sister Johnna.

Anyhow, what I want to write about today involves my bike and a recently discovered hidden treasure in my community. A couple days after I bought my bike, I was on my way to the port to check out the scene when I was approached by a couple kids also on bikes. They wanted me to follow them, so I obliged and on I went. We took a path off the main drag and came upon one of the few wooded areas in my community.

Confused, I asked what where were doing. I was told to follow. Nervously, I agreed and quickly realized this was some kind of BMX/Mountain bike trail called a ‘pista’ in Spanish.


As we shot through the bumpy first turn, I knew my road bike, with skinny tires, wasn’t up for these conditions. But the kids pleaded I continued, so I continued. From there, the course became more treacherous, so I got left behind trying to nurse my bike back to safety.


Eventually, I came full circle. The kids had a big laugh at my slow ways. I tried to explain how my bike wasn’t made for these conditions. But something got lost in translation. Imagine that.

But the big laugh came the next day when I went to the baseball field in the afternoon. A couple kids approached me and asked if I went on the pista. I told them yes. Immediately, they started laughing and asked if I fell off my bike while riding. I knew at that point I was doomed. They had been told false information, but it didn’t matter. I would have had an easier time telling them Santa Claus wasn’t real then trying to get them to change their mind about my supposed fall. So I said just laughed and said no.

I guess taking a fall is better than thinking you’re married.

Guest Host

This week, I am turning over my blog to my good friends Jay and Juila of Panablog. No, I am not shuting down and retooling. It's just they have done a feature on me that you can click on this link, and it much better than anything I can write. So enjoy.

Oh, as for my prediction for the NBA Finals. Well, I haven't got to watch a whole lot of the playoffs, but what I have seen, I've been impressed with the Magic. So give me them in six games.