10 Not-So-Obvious Things I Love About Panama

I missed you guys. Really, I did. I’ve been thinking a lot about Panama For Real and wishing I had more time to dive back into the pool of milky white virtual paper and Verdana font. The truth is, I’ve been incredibly busy putting food on the table. I’ve said before that Panama isn’t an easy place to live if you need to earn a living. It’s super chill if you have a reliable, steady flow of income, but having to deal with the daily grind can be a menace. And that’s where I find myself now. PFR, being a 100% free website definitely doesn’t pay the bills, but that’s my burden, not yours. I promise to keep this going if you promise to hang in there whenever I’m plagued with random bouts of holy-cow-I’m-too-freakin’-busy-to-focus-on-a-Panama post. Deal?

That said, what better way to get back into motion than to talk about some of the completely random things I love about Panama? You’re probably groaning right now, thinking, “Come on, Chris. Everyone writes the 10 things you’ll love about Panama stuff.” True enough. Fair enough. But I promise to try and do this a little different from the pay-for-info sites. Let me break it down to show you what I mean. 

I love seeing Estefania and Victoria getting involved in their new country's celebrations

Everyone writes about the convenience of our time zone (no daylight savings time changes here), banking, the use of the U.S. dollar, the ability (kind of) to get by speaking very little Spanish, and of course the raw beauty you find in Panama. I've written about these things too. But what else is there to love about Panama?

1. Bananas – 

I freakin’ love bananas. And they’re incredibly cheap here. This is the banana capital of the world. At the supermarket closest to my house, bananas right now cost about $.30 a pound. 

I love bananas. Nico does too. 

I participated in a book-promotion interview recently and was asked to list some things people didn’t already know about me. Bananas. The fruit was on the list. I told the story about how, when I was in high school, our football coach insisted that everyone on the team join an alternate sport in the off-season. The idea was that none of us would get lazy. I, and my good buddy Brian, joined track. Brian was a 300-pound lineman and wanted to throw discus. I had no serious athletic ability. I was a pretty good football player, but I wasn’t great. I wasn’t fast that’s for sure. 

So what did I do on the track team? I ate bananas. Yep, I sat in the bleachers, with Brian, and munched on bananas out of a big plastic grocery bag the track coach brought to each track meet. When it was time to run my 100-yard dash, I’d get up, run the race, lose the race, and then sit back down. As I listened to people whisper jokes like, “Damn, that white boy’s shadow was faster than he was,” I’d eat more bananas while flippin’ them the bird. 

I love seeing unintentionally raunchy traffic signs 

(seriously, I took this photo in the El Doroado area)

I think I’ve told you guys this story already, but the funny thing about Panama, is even with the oversupply of bananas, it can be incredibly difficult getting a banana split sometimes. I used to go the Baskin Robbins 31 Flavors in Costa del Este, or what I like to call the 10 flavors over and over again. Every single time I tried to order a banana split, I was told they were out of bananas. I’m not kidding. They were out of bananas all the time. So one day, I kid you not, I took my own bananas. I put one in each of my front pockets and drove to Baskin Robins. I ordered a banana split.

“Lo siento, Señor. No hay bananas.” I was told (Ok, that’s my crappy Spanish at work, but it went something like that).

“Ah,” I said as I acted like I had an amazing idea. “No hay problema.”

I pulled the two bananas out of my pockets and placed them on the counter. The girl looked shocked and then started laughing with her coworker. I’m sure I was the joke of the place for a while, but I got my banana split that’s for sure.

2. Boxing on regular TV – 

I remember living in the U.S. and wanting to see the big fight. If you didn’t have HBO or Showtime you’d have to find a buddy who did or you'd have to head to a local bar. Some of the big fights were on pay-per-view right? 

I love sitting behind video-game-loving truck drivers in traffic

You don’t have to worry about that here in Panama. The fights are always on basic cable. The Pacquiao VS Algieri fight the other night was playing on my father-in-law’s TV—free. The UFC fights used to play free on basic cable too, but I think that’s changed. I haven’t seen the fights live lately. I could be wrong about that though. Still, if you want to watch a UFC fight or a WWE event, you just find a website that allows you to either stream it live or watch post-premier, or like back home, just head out to Hooters or one of the sports bars in town.

I’d love to hear back from readers already living in Panama. What are some of the ways you watch live events that aren’t on basic cable?

3. Bootlegged stuff – 

I’ve seen the short videos that play at the beginning of the DVDs you rent out of the Redbox. Pirated videos are wrong because they support terrorism and don’t support the companies that charge $24.99 per DVD. Ok, I’m not saying that I don’t believe in the whole “pirating is stealing” idea. I get it. But I also remember going to a record store and spending an absurd amount of money on a CD that probably had one, maybe two songs I liked. The rest were filler songs. Likewise, I remember going into a popular DVD store, like um…what’s it called…FYE I think, and spending over $30 on a DVD. That’s close to robbery.

I love hanging out with baby Brad, the newest Kidpat in the family

So, I have to admit that I kind of like that you can buy cheap DVDs on the sidewalk in front of the supermarkets and that you can go to one of the shopping centers and pick up an R4 chip to stick in your kids’ Nintendo DS, pre-loaded with up to 100 games (rather than pay $50 per game).

I like that you can take a Playstation system to El Dorado and have it altered so it can play bootlegged games that cost $5 rather than the real games that cost $70. I like that you can honk your horn and buy crazy Latin music mixes for an upcoming party from the guy in the street median. I like that you can buy cheap wannabe Samsung cell phone chargers for your car and fake Oakley sunglasses for your face. Sorry, had to add the “for your face” ending to that sentence because it just flowed so smoothly (and it made me laugh). Realistically, the people who can afford it are still going to buy the name brands. A fake Rolex is a fake Rolex. It’s probably not going to keep time like the real thing, but it can look cool at a cocktail party. 

I love seeing my kids so happy with baby Brad around (family is everything here)

Is it wrong? I guess. I don’t know. I’m a writer and someone asked me the other day how I’d feel if he picked up my book for free online at one of the pirate sites. I said, “Dude, if you can find my book for free, I’d be honored if you stole it.” Shoot, I’ve given my books away so many times for free on Amazon and Smashwords that it doesn’t make much of a difference. Two of my novels are free right now on Wattpad. Publicity is publicity. If someone reads my book for free, likes it, and either tells someone about it or writes a review on Amazon, that’s helpful to me. So I’m cool with it. 

Plus, I’m not making many dimes writing. It’s not the reason I’m writing. Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to make a living on my books, but I write to entertain. It’s what I love to do. If I can hit Stephen King status at some point in my future, I’ll probably pass out from excitement, but in the meantime I’ll stick with being an underground, street writer. Does that even exist? Sounds like a new novel idea. The shoddy world of underground novel writing, ha! Where we sell our bodies for the chance at publication!

4. Fireworks – 

Yes, fireworks have been mentioned on other websites. Panamanians celebrate everything by shooting bright flowery rockets into the night sky. Don't believe me? Check out the video I shot from my brother-in-law's condo last Christmas Eve HERE. 

What I love about Panama is the fact that everyone can buy fireworks. In the U.S., it’s getting ridiculous. When I left, the only fireworks that were legal to buy were the freakin’ white popit things kids throw at the ground and sparklers. Oh and those little volcano shaped things that spew colorful sparks from their tops. Those are exciting.

I love clownin' around on Halloween (yep, that's me, the clown)

I’m sure out in the country somewhere, probably back where my dad’s living in the prairie lands, on the outskirts of Tulsa, Oklahoma, the fields are alive with the real deal fireworks, but in most places they’re illegal.

In Panama, every day of the year you’ll find fireworks stores, or little roadside stands, selling everything from bottle rockets to mortars. And if you happen to get lucky enough to move into a predominantly Chinese neighborhood here in Panama, you’re in for a treat—especially during the Chinese New Year. I lived in a neighborhood called Los Laureles, and my Chinese neighbors were fireworks fanatics. I think they shot off fireworks on their wedding anniversaries and their kids’ birthdays and maybe even each time their kids got a 5 (equal to an A here) on a school test. It was nuts. What did I, the gringo with no fireworks on hand, do to show my support? I banged pots and pans of course. That’s what we do! I clanged metal lids against aluminum pots and shouted, “Happy New Year, Happy Anniversary, and good job on that 5, kid!”

5. The 13th month and lots of holidays – 

I was off work the other day, and I don’t even know why. That’s awesome. Back home, I’d be lucky to get Veterans Day off and I’m a freakin’ veteran. Mother’s Day was no big deal in the U.S. Sure, you’d get your wife flowers and chocolates and jewelry and probably maker her dinner or breakfast in bed. Then both of you would head off to work while the kids went to school. Not in Panama. Mother’s Day is a national holiday here. The government shuts down, the kids are out of school…it’s a big deal.

I love my wife and the mother of my children! 

A free Disney musical was live on stage at the Cinta Costera and it was packed. My wife was invited to my kids' school Mother's Day celebration where gifts were raffled off and my kids did everything from singing to dancing to reading poetry with their classmates. At my school, the guys got together and bought lunch for the moms, gave roses to each mom, and put on crazy sketch show with singing, dancing, lip syncing, and even a comedy skit. 

I’m sure fireworks were going off somewhere in town that day. Father’s Day? A pretty big deal, but not nearly as big as Mother’s Day.

Independence Days are a big deal here too. And it seems like there are a hundred of ‘em. Ok, before I get the ridiculous comments and emails from Panamanians schooling me on exactly how many days there are and on what each one of them means…I know already. I’m just goofing around. However, there are several independence days here and each is taken quite seriously. 

So, as I told a reader recently who was considering coming down to Panama in November to take care of his immigration paperwork. Don’t plan anything during the month of November. Don’t do it! Just don’t. November is holiday month here. And when there are two or three holidays during the week, it’s customary to shut everything down for the whole week. So don’t set yourself up for that kind of frustration. Instead, enjoy the days off and have fun like everyone else. Head to Casco Viejo (Casco Antiguo as it’s now referred) and watch the desfiles (parades).

I loved seeing Vica (the only girl on drums) hang with the boys all day 

at the parade. She was a trooper.

Oh, and another great thing about working in Panama is the 13th month. Panamanian employees earn an extra 1/3rd of their salary in April, August, and December. It’s called the decimo. I love it because it’s kind of a way of making sure that Panamanians receive some sort of Christmas bonus. 

Let’s face it, many (not all) employers here are foreigners and cheapskate foreigners at that. People move to Panama and open businesses because they want to save some money. More often than not it’s at the expense of the Panamanian worker. I’ve seen people forced to work 6 (or 7) days a week, with no vacation, no holidays off, no decimo, and at pay far below minimum wage…it’s horrible. And this is really common when employers hire illegal immigrants (like Venezuelans trying to escape the situation in their home country). I’ve known many Venezuelan people, skilled workers, making sad amounts of money while working ridiculous hours.

I can’t tell you how to handle illegal immigrants working for you, but a fair shake would be really cool. When it comes to Panamanian workers, if you own a business here, or if you plan to, please abide by the rules. Don’t try to rip Panamanians off and force them to work on their holidays (without holiday overtime pay). Or for the bare minimum salary. And if you do, don’t complain later that the quality of work here is lousy. You get what you pay for. 

If someone were paying me $300 per month, I’d turn in shit work too. It’s just a fact of life. You can pay workers less than you would in the U.S. or in Canada or in the U.K., and still pay well over Panama's minimum wage.

6. Buying cheap stuff – 

Yes, I know the difference between cheap and affordable, but remember, I’m from Oklahoma and we use the two interchangeably for the most part. When I say cheap, I don’t mean it’s falling apart. I mean it’s not spendy. It’s not pricey. Rent in Panama isn’t cheap, at least not in Panama City. I’ve been over that before. Food can be if you buy local brands. But life in Panama can still be incredibly affordable in many aspects. Please, Chris, do explain. Sure I will.

Cheap Clothes: Ha, this can go both ways as in cheap (the ironed-on mighty Avengers patch in the front of your kids’ pajamas peels off the first time you wash it) and as in cheap (you won’t break your bank buying a pack of panties).

I’m a fan of the Silver Jack jeans. They’re like Silver Tab in my opinion. I can’t bring myself to spend $50 on a pair of blue jeans. Instead, I’ll head to Saks (not 5th avenue, but Juan Diaz or El Dorado, big difference) or Dorians and pick up a pair of Silver Jacks for $10-$15. I’ve gotten lucky and found a $7 sale going on once. As I’ve mentioned before, just check your pockets and make sure your hands fit in them. And do try them on before purchasing as the crotches on jeans can be tight (narrow? short? non-existent? How do you accurately describe minimal crotch space) and sewn-in, instant wedgies happen often. 

I love when my kids work together on school projects

Women can find nice looking shoes and high heels for like $3 a pop. Let’s be honest, ladies, most of you have a closet full of shoes and only wear each pair a couple of times. So why spend a fortune on a pair when you can pick up one for every occasion for crazy affordable prices? If you’re dainty, or skinny I should say, T-shirts can cost as low as $1.99. Chubby fellows like me, or broad-shouldered chaps aren’t going to slip into these threads. We need to find the American brands, but even those can be found for $5 to $7 a T-shirt at the same places I mentioned before.

Cheap beer: If you’re not able to fit into the $1.99 T-shirts it might be because you’ve already discovered the cheap beer. A can of local beer costs less than $.70. The price of a six pack hovers right around $4.00, usually less. Click HERE to check out this article I wrote awhile back about buying drinks in Panama for more info on the subject (be advised this was written about a year ago so prices have gone up a few cents). 

I love quick trips to the mountains, like this one to Altos del Maria

A word of advice, watch out for some of the bars on Calle Uruguay, the hot party spot in Panama’s downtown area. At one of the karaoke places, I went to the bar to buy a couple of bottles of Balboa beer (local brand that would cost about $.79 each in the supermarket) and was quoted $8. That’s EIGHT. As in 1…2…3…4…5…6…7…8…for two Panamanian beers. That’s ridiculous. That’s how much I paid for a Budweiser in Alaska. Now, if you go to a more down-to-earth, local bar here in Panama, you’ll pay a dollar (or less) for the same bottle of Balboa beer. So just watch out.

Cheap haircuts: I’ve had the same military-like do for a long time, and I cut my own hair. It all started when I lived in Boynton Beach, Florida, and the local barber shop charged me $17 for this haircut. I paid it a few times and it always bothered me knowing I was shelling out $20 (with the tip) for such a quick and easy job. That’s when I went to Walmart, picked up a $14 clipper, and started doing my own hair. Turns out I have an odd shaped head that makes it nearly impossible for me to mess up. 

I love $.35 bus and train rides

I said nearly because it just so happens that I did mess up, years ago on the day before my daughter’s birthday,  when I shaved the front of my hair clean off and ended up having to shave my whole head bald. Not fun. Funny, not fun.

In Panama, you won’t have to worry about that $17 do. I got my hair cut for $4. My wife can get hers cut for probably about $8. Now, don’t get me wrong, if you go to one of the fancy salons in Multiplaza Mall or in the San Francisco or Paitilla areas, you’ll pay top dollar, just like back home. But if you go to a Factory Fashion or a local salon, men and women can expect to pay much less. The trick, just like with any salon, is to find someone you trust and keep going back to them.

Cheap movies: I’ve mentioned this a few times, but I’m a movie fanatic, so it’s something I love about Panama. The last time I took my daughters to see a movie in the U.S. was in Chicago, Illinois. I paid $17 for parking at the theater, $10 for my ticket, $8 for each of my daughters' tickets, and by the time I paid for snacks, I’d spent about $60. 

Fast forward a couple of years to the first time I took them to see a movie at the Cinemark in Los Pueblos. It was a Wednesday night, which happens to be cheap movie day here in Panama. For the three of us I paid just over $6 total for tickets. Add $10 at the most for snacks and I spent about $16 at the movies.

I love buying fresh pipa (coconut water) from this guy under

the bridge in San Miguelito

The trick is to make sure you go on a Wednesday. I think right now Cinemark is still running their Thursday special where you can show your Pricesmart membership card (like Costco or Sam’s Club here) and get 2 for 1 movie tickets.

And if you happen to go to the movies any other day of the week, it’s usually only about $4 a person. 3D is a little bit more and VIP (the reclining leather seats) is somewhere around $10 each ticket.

Here are the websites for the two main theaters here if you want to check pricing and show times. Cinemark and Cinepolis. Or for a quick look at what's playing at all the Panama cinemas try Cinespanama. Just remember SUB or SUBITULADA means the movie is in English with Spanish subtitles. DOB or DOBLADA means the movie will be dubbed in Spanish.

7. Mini Supers, often referred to as Chinos – 

Before I’m pounced on, I’m not a fan of calling them chinos, but that’s what people know them as. In fact, I know the name of the Chinese owner of the store near my house, Erica, and I suggest you get to know the owners of your closest mini-super too. You might make a good friend.

I almost put this section up there with the cheap items list because what I love most about these mini-supers is the ability to buy exactly what you need, the actual amount you need, for affordable prices. If I need 2 eggs because I’m baking a cake, I can run to the store and purchase 2 eggs. I don’t have to buy a dozen like at a normal supermarket.

I love fishing mangos out of the tree in our front yard

If I need one trash bag for some reason, I can buy one trash bag. If my daughter has an art project for school and needs one pair of wobbly eyes for a sock puppet, I can buy one pair of eyes instead of an entire package. I love it. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve rushed to the mini-super in a pinch. I’ve gone to pick up oil, a banana, half a chicken, one stick of butter…you name it. The place closest to my house has stacks of eggs right at the cash register. So, if you need 1 Snickers bar, 1 box of matches, 1 razor for shaving, 3 pieces of gum, 1 razor blade, 3 trash bags, and 2 eggs, you’re in luck. I don’t know why you’d need all that stuff, in that denomination, unless you’re MacGyver, but you never know.

8. Ability to Negotiate – 

In the U.S., we’ve lost the ability to negotiate. Unless you’re at a used car dealership or trying to buy a house, negotiation has almost become a thing of the past. In Panama, if you know what you’re doing, and if you speak Spanish, it’s a handy tool. 

I love ceviche, one of my new favorite snacks

When I first moved to Panama, I needed to buy appliances. I’d left the house back home up for sale, and figured it would be best to leave the appliances in it, rather than trying to sell a gutted home. This meant I needed to buy a stove, a fridge, a washer, and a dryer. I made sure I took my mother-in-law with me. Gloria, my wife’s mother, is awesome. She’s a good friend, but also super handy to have around too. She knows how to negotiate and isn’t afraid to give people a piece of her mind when they’re full of it. I had no idea I could negotiate here, but when I went to buy a stove, she immediately started talking down the price.

I love street performers

This wasn’t at a garage sale or a Salvation Army or some mom and pop store. This was Rodelag, a major appliance store here. She asked the sales person for a discount. He went to ask his boss and we ended up paying less. I’m not sure how much, but less. At a Do-It-Center (kind of like a Home Depot here), I wanted to buy an exercise bike. I think the price was $150 or something like that. It was the only one available though and I know my wife hates buying the floor model. Plus, this one had a scratch on it. I negotiated with the sales person and he talked to his boss. I ended up getting it for like $20 less.

I’m not the kind of person who likes to talk his way into a sweeter deal. I just don’t like the hassle of it. I’m more likely to just pay the regular price than to try and negotiate every time I walk into a store, but if you’re able to, and you like that kind of thing, give it a try.

9. Barcelona vs. Madrid days – 

I love American football, but I’ve come to appreciate futbol (or soccer). I’ll never forget my first Barcelona vs. Madrid game. I was with my Finnish friend, Juha. We went to a local bar to drink beer, eat greasy appetizers, and see these two teams battle it out. I had no idea the importance of this rivalry. I’d seen the red jerseys worn by half the city’s population whenever the Panama team was set to play a game, but why would Panamanians care so much about two teams from Spain? I wouldn’t think it would be a big deal. Wrong.

I love push buttons. They're just so cool, cheap, and convenient, ha!

There are two types of people in Panama. Barcelona fans and Real Madrid fans. It’s almost like the Capulets and the Montagues. I’m not even sure if a Barcelona fan and a Madrid fan can marry. Their kids may be shunned by society.

This is a rivalry taken seriously. On our way to that bar to see my first ever Barcelona vs. Madrid game, the guy driving the car got pulled over. He was going the wrong way on a one-way street, just for a second, trying to find the bar. The cop knocked on his window, the guy rolled it down, and as soon as the cop peered in and saw he was wearing a Real Madrid jersey, he just smiled and said something like, “You’re lucky you’re wearing the right team’s jersey. If you’d been wearing a Barcelona shirt I, would’ve given you a ticket.” That was it. We were on our way. Not even a warning. Just a laugh and a “the bar’s thataway.” 

When I got our car, a used one, it had a Barcelona license plate on the front of it. I took it off. Not because I don’t like Barcelona. I don’t really have a preference between the two teams. I just didn’t want to get pulled over someday and happen to meet a cop who favors the opposing team.

10. Old fashioned lifestyle – 

Ok this one is rapidly changing, but I still feel like this place is kind of like the U.S. in the 50s. Ha, like Leave it to Beaver without the Beaver. More like Leave it to Manuel. 

I’ve mentioned the opportunity here a lot. Especially in places like Pedasi, these small beach towns that are constantly growing. If you move to one of these small places like Aguadulce or the farming area (not the resort side) of Rio Hato or even Penonome, and you notice something is missing, just bring it to the town yourself.

Please, no more pizzerias in Coronado! Sorry, that had to be said.

What I mean is, if you move to the town and you realize it would be really cool to have a super chill café where local talent can strum the guitar on Friday evenings, just do it. What’s stopping you? If you notice there’s not a good sandwich shop in town, and you happen to be a deli master, what are you waiting for? Bring your culinary karate to that town.

I love butt naked piñatas. This photo cracks me up every time.

And it’s not just the opportunity that reminds me of the 50s (not that I was alive in the 50s, but I’ve seen Back to the Future and it looks awesome). It’s the freedom and the way of life.

You can still, at some gas stations, have your gas pumped for you and your windows washed and your oil and tire pressure checked. People still bag your groceries and carry them out to your car for you. Gardeners come to your house, stand outside, and call your name (or jefe or something like that) until you let them know whether you do or do not need their services. Shoe repair people ride around on bikes and solicit your business. A dude standing in the back of a pickup announces produce for sale through a megaphone as his team drives up and down the neighborhood streets. 

I love sweet deals like this gigantic bag of produce from Cerro Punta

And if you’d rather head to a farmer market yourself, do it. Go. Find your fresh and affordable veggies. Don’t even clean your house if you don’t want to. Hire someone to do it, just like the gardener and pool cleaners. These are hardworking Panamanians. Just pay them a fair wage and relax, enjoy the services they provide.

I love the uncorrupted freedom too. Let me explain as I’m sure someone just jumped off their computer chair, shook a fist in the air, and yelled, “WTF are you talking about, Chris, politicians are incredibly corrupt!” I don’t mean that. I mean the thought process in Panama isn’t corrupt. There’s still a naïve way about this place.

The people are just so much more laid back. Stupid things don’t bother them. For example, I’m working at a school right now. To show their appreciation, the 12th graders set up a really nice lunch for the teachers. It was a beautiful ceremony with a video showing each of the kids thanking their teachers. It was touching. After the video, the teachers were led to a buffet-style table and there was even sangria. Sangria is wine, people. Now, this was at the end of the school day, and teachers took only one cup of wine to toast with. The students didn’t drink a drop. But I thought that was really cool. This would never happen in the U.S. Why? Because at some point in time, a parent wrote in (this was probably long before email, and was probably the parent of a recently scorned child) and said they thought it was inappropriate for teachers to have wine in front of kids. Here it's not big deal.

For Teachers’ Day, which is also a big deal here in Panama, a lot of students bring gifts to the teachers. I received wonderful gifts: a Chinese teacup with candy, lots of chocolate and cookies, coffee cups, a really nice pen, and one student even brought me two gift-wrapped bottles of wine. Now, this wasn’t like slipping your teacher a bottle of Jack. This was honest appreciation. And I thought it was very sweet. And to any students or parents who happen to stumble upon this blog post, I want to say thank you. I really appreciate the gifts.

My point is that in Panama, I feel that life is still livable, not only at a slower pace, but with a little more freedom. Not everything is looked at under a magnifying glass. Casual Fridays still exist here. 

Living here, I’d buy fresh baked bread or diced fruit or jars of fresh honey from people in the street medians. Would I do that in the U.S.? Hell no, that would be weird. Somehow we’ve lost that sense of trust back home. Everything is scrutinized.

11. Sense of pride – 

As always, a little something extra. Panamanians have fought long and hard for their freedom and they’re well aware of it. We just went through the November month’s celebrations and I got to watch my daughters march in the desfiles (parades). Victoria was chosen to play the drums during one parade and both of my daughters danced in their polleras during another parade. These are events that go on for several days, all day long, and people love them.

As part of a school field trip, I got to go along with some of the classes to the movie theater to see the movie Historias del Canal. This was a Panama-made movie that focused on several stories, all having to do with the building of the Panama Canal and the history of the Canal Zone. Most of the movie was in English so I understood a good portion of it. Man, kind of like the old series Roots, this painted a horrible picture of how we treated Panamanians and everyone else involved in building the canal. It was tough to watch. I felt bad. And yes, for those who grew up in the Canal Zone, I know there are two sides to every story, but still, it’s an important story for not only Panamanians to understand, but for Americans living here. 

This is the movie I'm talking about

Following the movie, I assigned students an essay, where they needed to either write about their thoughts on the film, write about their trip to the Canal Museum, or write about how Panama would be today if it hadn’t experienced its past. Almost every student wrote something about Martyrs’ Day. 

Without going too heavy into the past, this is basically about a group of high school students who got fed up with the fact that Americans were not allowing Panamanians access to the Canal Zone area, and more importantly, the fact that the Panamanian flag was not allowed to fly alongside the American flag in this U.S. occupied area of Panama. So, the students protested, marched into the Canal Zone, and demanded their flag be raised next to the U.S. flag. Things got heated when the Panamanian flag was torn by Canal Zone police officers. In the end, it’s said that 21 Panamanians and 4 American soldiers sadly lost their lives. 

Of course, there’s much more to the story, but this is known as a major event that eventually helped lead to the Panamanians gaining possession of the Panama Canal from the U.S. and the U.S. military finally leaving Panamanian soil. 

I love Panamanian pride

Reading these kids’ thoughts on Martyrs Day was eye opening. It made me think about U.S. history and how similar it is to the Panamanians’. It made me think about our sense of pride and how far we’ve come as a nation.

You guys know me. You know I can get kind of preachy sometimes and I know you guys put me in my place when you don’t agree with me, but believe it or not, I think some of us here in Panama are forgetting where we come from. We might have some issues, ok some major issues in the U.S. right now, but we have to be careful about how we speak about our own country.

Never, never ever, have I heard a Panamanian bad mouth his or her country. Sure, they might agree that customer service needs some fixing and that traffic is a major problem, but it’s very rare to have someone flat out say they hate their country or can’t stand their country and that’s why they left. 

Now, go read some of the Facebook group threads or just listen when expats gather. Guys, we don’t hate our country. We don’t. At least I hope we don’t. Some of us may hate the current president, we may hate the way the IRS is able to dip its hands into our pockets, and we may hate the way our veterans are treated. Sure, some things definitely need fixing. But let’s be careful about how we speak about our country, especially in the presence of other foreigners. It just dumbs us down.

I worry that some people don’t really understand what it means to be an expat. Expat is short for expatriate and expatriate means a person temporarily or permanently living in a country that is not of the person’s upbringing. To many people, living abroad is just an extension of their American dream. They just want to retire somewhere exotic, someplace different. It has nothing to do with hatred or abandonment. It doesn't mean anti-patriot. At least not for most people.

I do not hate my country. Not at all. In fact, whenever Toby Keith’s “Angry American” plays or Lee Greenwood’s “God Bless the USA” plays, I get a little bit teary eyed. When that kid, Quintavious Johnson (age 12), sang the national anthem during the Lions game, I got chills and had to look it up on Youtube to show my kids. If you haven’t seen this kid sing, you need to check out this video. It’s amazing: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bNPc4oNkK04.

Things have taken a bad turn in the States, but every time I hear someone say that the U.S. is no longer a feared and powerful country, I'd love to smack 'em upside the head. We've still got the most badass country around. We've just got a few scrapes and bruises. As Coach used to say, "Get up and put some ice on it." 

We can love America while living in Panama, we can go after that American dream while living in Panama, and we can be proud of our country while living in Panama—just like the Panamanians who are proud of their country.

On that note, I'd just like to once again apologize for taking such a long break and thank you for hanging in there. Thanks for sticking around and as always, thanks for reading. 

Chris

Oh and for any new readers who've just found this blog, please don't forget to head over to my main website at http://www.PanamaForReal.com where you'll find a lot more info about living in Panama. Thanks again!

The Real Deal on Paying Your Bills In Panama

When you first move to Panama, you'll no doubt feel a little lost. Things are going to be a bit different here. Setting up your utilities and cable TV and Internet...all that stuff might be somewhat of a challenge, especially when dealing with the language barrier. Then, once you have everything set up, there's still that pesky task of  paying your bills. That is, unless you're one of those rich expats who move here and pay an assistant to take care of everything for you. Now that would be nice, but for most of us, it's not reality. Paying bills sucks no matter where you're located, so let's talk about how it differs here in Panama from what you may be used to.

I've been here so long now that when I started out writing this, I realized that I'd forgotten how strange life was when I first moved to Panama. Most differences are no big deal, but even the smallest oddities can make you feel so out of place. First, you have to realize there's no normal mail service here. You won't see a mailman in his short blue shorts and high socks marching from door to door. It's so different here in that aspect. In Panama, the companies send out their own errand boys/people to drop off your bill. You might be sitting in your living room and hear someone yell out, "Agua!" That actually happened yesterday at my house. I was sitting on the couch, working on my next book, when someone walked by and shouted "water" through my open window.

I guess I'm not usually home when the water bill is dropped off because it kind of took me by surprise. What do you yell back when someone shouts water? At least if it had been, "Marco!" I could have replied with, "Polo!." But agua? I felt all my cool points dissipate as I struggled to produce a witty comeback. The guy outside, unlike the ones who ride by and sell fresh produce, pick up appliances, fix your shoes, shout out political taunts, and provide all other sorts of door-to-door services, wasn't simply selling water like one might think. Turns out, he was just warning us that he was dropping off the bill. 

This is how your bills will show up

I looked outside and there it was, tucked safely in the door handle (sometimes you'll find your bill stuffed into the metal bars on your window). Most people in Panama don't have a mailbox.

So, once you get your hands on a bill, what now? You don't just rip off the bottom portion, sign a check, lick an envelope, toss it back into the box, and raise the red flag. Those days are long gone my friends. I've been out of the U.S. for over five years now, so that may not even be the way it's handled there now. I know I used to pay all my bills online. 

I got the idea for this short article (short because it's pretty easy and doesn't need a lot of detail, but you know me, I'm always long winded and will probably stretch this out with a story or two) when a reader sent me an email asking about paying bills in Panama. Apparently, he'd spent some time chatting with an elderly Panamanian man who'd explained to him that paying bills in Panama always requires that you actually visit the company you need to pay.

You can go directly to the source in Chitre and pay your water bill here

Hearing that didn't surprise me. It seems to be that Panamanians over the age of maybe 50, either don't trust the other systems in place, don't have the technical know how, or just have no idea other avenues exist. When I first moved to Panama and was a lot less knowledgeable than I am now, I listened to my father-in-law when it came time to pay the electric bill. Remember, Mar left Panama when she was 18 and married me shortly after, so she didn't know the ways of the bill-paying-Panamanian world either. With our feet planted firmly on foreign soil, we were both learning the ways of our new world, and unfortunately under the direction of someone with this old school train of thought.  

Dad-in-law insisted that I needed to go to the actual electric company to pay the bill. So I did. I wasn't gonna argue. I didn't know there were alternatives, so what was there to argue. So there I stood, in line, without about 20 other people lined up along the sidewalk, waiting to get into the office to pay the bill. Every time someone exited the building, someone else would be allowed entry. Finally, I made it to the front of the line, where the security guard allowed me to enter, just to find that the line kept going, snaking back and forth all the way to the counter. At least the inside was air conditioned. When I finally paid, the girl behind the counter stamped the bill with the date, the amount paid, and all that other good stuff, and I was on my way.

It wasn't a complicated process, but man, it was a lengthy and tedious one. It turned out to be an embarrassing one too as I was still struggling with the difference between "hale" and "empuje," or in English, the dreaded "pull" and "push" stickers you see on glass doors. I've never had luck with the push/pull conundrum. Even in English, there's a 99% chance I'll make the 50% choice wrong and end up running into the door. Well, that's exactly what happened at the electric company, packed with Panamanians waiting in line, when I went to exit and I empujed (think I just created a word) rather than haled and smacked right into the glass door. A buddy of mine who was behind me in line came out a minute later to rub in how hard everyone was laughing after I'd left. Good times. I love being a gringo rodeo clown.

Looks something like this

So, after this ridiculous, time-wasting experience, I kept thinking, "Man, there has got to be an easier way to pay bills." Turns out there was. And there still is. Here are the ways you can pay your bills here in Panama. Of course, if I miss any, I invite readers to write in the comments section to keep us all in the loop.

Go Directly to the Source: 

As I just mentioned, this is the only way many older Panamanians will pay their bills. Even after I'd discovered other ways to do it, my father-in-law insisted I go directly to Ensa (the electric company) or Idaan (the water company), etc.

"But why?" I asked.

"Because you have to. You have to make sure it goes through immediately," Dad-in-law explained.

And that was that. It's kind of like insisting that you have to go to Blockbuster to rent a video because you don't trust Redbox or Netflix. 

There's no doubt that handing over cash and getting a stamped "paid in full" receipt in return is the safest route, but it's definitely not the most convenient. So what other ways are there to pay bills? 

Multi Pagos (and the other small pay stations) - 

It wasn't until I'd been here awhile that I noticed all the people standing in line at these little pay boxes in the Super 99 grocery stores. Then I noticed something similar in the Rey supermarkets. I realized I didn't have to go straight to the source to pay the bills. I could just take care of it at the supermarket. That wasn't as easy as paying online, but it was a heck of a lot easier than going to three to four different buildings to pay the bills.

Pay your bills, use Western Union, and other stuff at these Multi Pagos

These multi pay stations have a database with most companies you'd need to pay. The easiest way to pay is to bring your actual bill with you. And trust me, it's best to bring the most recent bill. Some of them won't let you pay with an old bill even though it has your account number on it. I found this out one time when I was a little bit behind on my electric bill. I hadn't received the newest bill, but I was late on the old one, so I took it in and tried to pay. They wouldn't take it. I had to wait until my next bill came out, then take it in and pay with the updated bill.

The funny thing is, even if you don't have your bill on you, you can usually fill out a form like the one you see in the following picture. If you don't have your bill with you, make sure you know what the NIC # is, pronounced like NICK, as you won't be able to pay your bill without this valuable piece of info:  

Just a simple form, requesting loads of info

If you take a look at the photo, you'll see that quite a bit of info is requested on this form. You may also recognize this info, as I've used it before in one of my supermarket tips articles. It goes great with this article too, so I'm sharing it again. Here's what all those questions on the form mean in English: 

Cia a pagar = Company you are paying (like Ensa for electric, Cable Onda for cable, etc.)

Fecha = Today's date.

No. De Cuenta a Pagar = The NIC or customer number.

Nombre del Cliente = Your name (or whoever's name the account is under).

No. Cedula = The cedula is like the social security number in the United States. It's a Panamanian's ID number. If you don't have a cedula you'll use the number on your immigration card or your passport number. 

Cheque/Efectivo = Put the amount down that you're paying either with a check (cheque) or cash (efectivo). 

Escriba en letras Total del Pago = Here you write out the total amount. I don't speak/write Spanish yet (not very well anyways) so I usually leave this part blank and they fill it out for me. ;)

Banco/No. Cheque = If you're using a check to pay, write the bank name and check number here. 

No. Telefono = Your telephone number.

See, if you have your bill with you you won't have to worry about all that. They'll just stamp the bill and give it back to you as a receipt that you paid.

My only complaint about using these multi pago stations, and it's going to be the same with any form of payment where your physical presence is required, is the amount of people you'll find in line, especially at rush hour. Early mornings, lunch breaks, and right after work (especially on or around the quincena, or payday, you'll find a lot of people lined up to pay bills, send/receive money through Western Union, or to engage in one of the other many services these multi pagos provide. Your best bet is to go in sometime around 10am or maybe 2pm.   

Epago

Similar to these multi pay stations you find around town, are the Epagos, like you see in the photo below.  

This is the ePago in Penonome

These Epago buildings can be found in just about every town in Panama. I even saw one in Las Tablas, which is what I'd consider one of the smallest, most third-world towns in Panama. These are run pretty much the same way as the multi pay stations. You can go into this one building and pay just about anything you'd need to pay.

The Western Union at Los Pueblos

In addition to these, you can also go into some other places like Western Union and pay your bills. The photo above is the Western Union at the Los Pueblos shopping center in Panama City (technically the Juan Diaz area I guess).

This pay station was inside of a small supermarket off of Via Brasil in Panama City

Western Union isn't the same as ePago, so these smaller substations aren't necessarily part of ePago, but they're other convenient places to pay your bills. You just have to find the place closest to you. If you want to see what services can be paid at the actual ePago locations, check out this list: http://www.epago.com.pa/pagar.html.

Bank Online

Perhaps the easiest way to pay your bills, and the method I definitely prefer, is to pay your bills through your bank's online system. Not all banks will have this available, but when they do, it makes life so much easier. We bank with Banco General and pay all of our bills online through their system. 

I prefer the bank's online pay system

You just look up the company you want to pay, put in your account number to register, then remember to go back each month and pay your bills. Once you've set it up once, the account numbers and companies you need to pay should remain in the system, making it easier the next month as you'll only need to put in the amount you'd like to pay.

And if you need a quick refresher on what it takes to open a bank account in Panama, check out the video I put together, The Real Deal Report on Banking in Panama by clicking HERE.  

Now, while my father-in-law loves to have that sheet of paper in hand with the stamped "paid and received" notice right there on the slip, I'm fine with having it recorded in my bank's system. I think it's easier that way. I can lose a sheet of paper. It's much easier for me to check my account history online.

***UPDATE on 8/28/14*** After publishing this article, readers and friends, Todd B. and Emma V. both wrote to tell me about a service I hadn't heard about. It's called Multientrega. Apparently, these people will come to your house, take your cash and bill, give you correct change, then go pay your bill and bring the receipt back to you. And the cost is not bad at all. Todd says he pays less than $10 (which when you consider the cost of gas or taxi and the time it takes to stand in line to pay your bills is not bad at all). I haven't personally used the service, but Todd and Emma are serious people, so it sounds like a good alternative to the madness that can come with paying your bills in Panama. Here's the Facebook page for Multientrega: https://www.facebook.com/multientrega

I know this post was shorter than usual, but it's fairly simple and I just wanted to clear it up a little for anyone thinking it was difficult to pay bills in Panama. 

Hope this helps guys.

Thanks for reading, 

Chris

And don't forget to go to http://www.PanamaForReal.com. 

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Panama Can Be A Scary Place

When you think of voodoo and black magic and ghost stories, you probably think of New Orleans on the home front, and maybe Jamaica or Haiti on the foreign one. Panama typically stirs up images of basking in the seaside sun with the smell of coconut scented suntan oil wafting through the air. Usually, it's not Panama that comes to mind when you think of terrifying tales. However, I have to tell you, since moving here, I've discovered that Panama has a dark side, or at least a strangely shadowy (almost wrote sinister, but that sounds too evil) side. 

I don't want to frighten you with this article. That's definitely not my intention. Life in Panama is great. But Panama has a lot of history, and just like Valley Forge, Pennsylvania or Salem, Massachusetts, anyplace with history is likely to have some creepy stories. 

Not this kind of scary...but scary

For being a country with its roots planted so firmly in the Catholic faith, it's interesting how many Panamanians believe there are witches and other not-so-friendly forces roaming about. This place isn't like what's depicted in the movie The Serpent and the Rainbow or anything, but Santeria is practiced by some here in this country. You know, like the Sublime song, "I don't practice Santeria. I ain't got no crystal ball." Santeria is considered a religion, but also has a dark side (like voodoo, which it's often compared to). 

Not this kind of voodoo (photo from Amazon.com)

I'm not saying every Panamanian believes in all this freaky stuff, but I can assure you that if you ask 5 Panamanians if they've witnessed something supernatural or just plain spooky, at least 3 of them will be able to tell you about something that either happened to them personally, or to a friend or family member. Even in the school folklore class, the kids are tasked at least once a year with bringing in reports on Panama's scary legends. 

At some point in the future, I'll write a part 2 to this article and tell you some of the scary stories I've heard from others, but for now, I'll focus on some of the strange happenings I've encountered here. 

When we first moved to Panama, Mar and I rented a two-story house. It was a strange house, with 3 bedrooms upstairs and 2 living rooms downstairs. The back wall of the second living room, which led out to a patio, wasn't a solid wall. Instead, it was a barred-up, screened-in sliding door. So no matter how secure we were in the house, it always felt a little bit strange, like we were way too vulnerable. It did allow a decent breeze to flow through the house though. Oh and there was a back room right next to that door that we used as a toy room for the kids. 

That's the back door/wall I'm talking about

Almost immediately after moving in, we started noticing strange occurrences. Now, I'm not crazy. I've seen some odd things in my life, but I'm definitely not the kind of person to quickly blame everything on the supernatural. And I know many people reading this will automatically chalk it all up to an overactive imagination, but I can assure you, these things were not normal, not delusions, and not make believe. Believe it or not, that's up to you. 

Sightings

First, came the sightings. Victoria, my youngest daughter, who must've been about 5-years-old at the time was the first to mention the woman in black. Mar was upstairs napping with the boys one night, while the girls were in their bedroom. The phone rang downstairs so Victoria raced down the stairs to answer it (she'd been waiting for her cousin to call). After a few moments downstairs, she came screaming up the stairs, waking Mar up and freaking out her sister. 

"What is it, baby?" Mar asked.

"I was on the phone," Vica replied, "And I saw a woman in black walking through the kitchen. She made the bags move."

She was talking about plastic grocery bags we'd had hanging from the cabinets. We were going through an ant problem at the time, so we hung any sweets and bread in grocery bags high up so the ants couldn't get to them.

Christina with the boys in THAT HOUSE

Shortly after Victoria's sighting, the nanny, Christina, who has been with Mar's family for about 15 years, started mentioning seeing a man in black. The first time was after she saw the shadow of a man walk into the kitchen. 

Then, another time she saw the same dark shadow walk out of the kitchen and into the living room. She followed it until she saw it disappear on the stairs. 

A third time, she'd fallen asleep on the living room couch. When she woke up, she glanced to her right, and there, in the dining room, was the dark shadowy man, just staring at her. She jumped up and he disappeared. 

The boys were infants when we moved to Panama, right around the 9-month mark. We lived in that house for several years, so by the time we left, they were old enough to walk and talk. One night, while Mar and Nico were headed upstairs, they passed the kitchen and were about to round the corner to the stairs when Nico froze in place and looked terrified. Mar crouched down to see what was wrong with him and he said.

"Mama, a woman is in the kitchen." 

Mar figured it must've been her mom in the kitchen as she was visiting at the time. "It's probably just Abuela," she said.  

Nico shook his head and said, "It wasn't Abuela. There's a black woman in the kitchen."

Nico ain't afraid of no ghosts!

Marlene looked back and didn't see anything. Later, when Mar asked the owner of the house about it, she kind of jokingly said, "Oh yeah, the man in black has been there since I was a kid. He won't harm anybody." 

It Gets Stranger 

When we fist moved into that house, the boys were just learning to crawl, and definitely weren't able to climb out of their cribs. One night, I was hanging out with the kids downstairs when Nico fell asleep. I carried him upstairs to the boys' bedroom where the crib on the left wall was Nico's and the crib against the right wall was Matteo's. I am 100% certain I placed Nico in the correct crib because when I went to lay him down, he grabbed one of the bars and I had to kind of pry his fingers off so he wouldn't hurt himself in his sleep. I covered him up with his blanket, then headed downstairs. 

Maybe 30-minutes later, Matteo fell asleep. So I carried him upstairs. When I went to place him in his crib, Nico was there. He wasn't old enough to climb out of his crib and even if he was, he could never have reached up and pulled himself into the crib on the opposite wall. I thought it was really strange, but just pushed it out of my head and went back downstairs. But I was positive I'd placed him in the correct crib in the first place. It really bothered me. 

Then it happened again, on a different night, but the other way around. Matteo was in the wrong crib. This happened several times. Even Mar witnessed it, so it wasn't just my forgetful mind. One time, I wasn't even home. Mar was with her mom in the house and went to check on Nico who'd been sleeping upstairs in his crib. When she opened his bedroom door, his crib was empty. 

Panic hit her right away because he'd never crawled out of the crib. She looked under the cribs and around the room and he was nowhere in sight. By that point she was getting really scared. Her first thought was that someone had kidnapped him, but how could they? His window was sealed up tight with bars on the outside (typical security in Panama's older neighborhoods). 

She and her mom searched the house, calling out his name. She checked all of the rooms once, then twice. On the second round, she entered my daughters' room, and just happened to see Nico's little toes peeking out from beneath Estefania's bed. 

Mar dropped to her knees and had to lie down on the floor because the space between the bed and the floor was tiny, so narrow that it would have taken some effort for him to slide under there (not something you'd easily do in your sleep). She could see Nico, but he was too far away for her to reach, so she rubbed on his foot and called out his name. Mar says she'll never forget the look on his face when he opened his eyes. He was terrified, like he had no idea how he'd gotten beneath her bed. 

One other time, I went into the boys' bedroom to check on them in the middle of the night, and both cribs were pushed away from the walls, at the same odd angle, in the center of the room. That's when I really started to believe something was going on. 

Seriously!

At the time, I was a trainer at one of the call centers here and during a break I kind of mentioned it to the people in my class. These were all adults. As soon as I started talking about it, they all got very animated and enthusiastic about personal horror stories. They started telling me about witches and asked if we'd baptized the boys. At that time, we hadn't. We'd baptized the girls, but wanted to wait until we'd moved to Panama to baptize the boys, and just hadn't gotten around to it. 

"You need to baptize them," one woman told me. 

"Okay," I said, not realizing the urgency. 

"Seriously," she said. "Strange things happen in Panama to children who are not baptized." 

"Come on," I said.

"Really," she replied. "Witches go into the homes of babies that haven't been baptized. They pick up the babies while they're sleeping, and suck on their bellybuttons."

I looked around the room, and no one seemed to think the story was strange. In fact, it kicked up a whole discussion about witches and other evil entities. I later told Mar about it and she, who has heard some wild stories, said she'd never heard the one about the bellybutton-munching witches. 

Mar wanted to get the boys baptized as soon as possible, but we still weren't in a major rush. Then, a couple more things happened which kind of pushed up the date a little. 

One night, while Mar was alone with the kids (as a trainer I had to teach a lot of night classes), she'd just put them to bed when she went downstairs to get a snack. She immediately felt that something wasn't right. You know that feeling you get when the hair stands up on the back of your neck? When you feel like you're being watched? Mar felt that she wasn't alone. She grabbed her snack and went upstairs with it. 

A few minutes later she heard the sound of someone talking. It was a soft, creepy voice far off in the distance. She checked on the kids and everyone was okay, so she crept out onto the staircase and looked down at the dark living room. She could heard the voice and it sounded like it was somewhere in the house. She went back to her room and grabbed her rosary. After praying and forcing herself to relax, she got a bit angry and decided that she was the woman of the house and would not be afraid in her own home. So she got up and went downstairs, flipping on every light along the way. 

Once downstairs, she still couldn't figure out where the sound was coming from, but she recognized it. It was a battery-operated Elmo doll we'd bought the kids for their birthday. It was repeating one of its catch phrases over and over again. Mar followed the sound into the second living room where she realized it was coming from the back toy room. 

She turned on the living room and bathroom lights, but the problem was the motion light outside that large sliding door I mentioned earlier was not working right, so the back patio was pitch black, and the toy room light, for some reason, could only be turned on from a switch inside the closet, at the back corner of the room. Mar didn't have flashlight, so she crept past the sliding door, glancing over her shoulder every couple of seconds, half expecting to find the shadow man peering in at her from the patio, and tried to see where the doll was without actually entering the toy room. It was impossible. She needed to enter the room.

And that damned doll kept repeating that creepy phrase. Something about wanting to play. Over and over again, taunting her. 

She finally convinced herself she was brave enough to do this, took a deep breath, and ran to the back closet. She flipped on the light and saw nothing out of the ordinary. Only three large boxes full of toys. Then the Elmo stopped talking. It just completely stopped. Mar wasn't sure which box it had been coming from. She waited to see if it would start blabbing again, but it didn't. So she started digging through the boxes until she finally found it at the bottom of a box.

She picked up the Elmo and held it at eye level. Suddenly it started laughing and then said, "Goodbye." She hurried out of the toy room, opened up its back panel, and yanked out the battery. She threw the doll into the garbage and ran upstairs. And the talking started again. The battery-less Elmo was calling out with its catch phrase. Mar called me and then called her mom and asked her to come over and stay with her. 

Take that freaky Elmo (we know how to get our revenge, piñata style)

At that point, Mar was completely freaked out and wanted to get out of the house, but we needed to find someplace else to go. We set everything up to baptize the boys, but her temporary fix was to bless the house. So she got a bottle of holy water and her rosary and we went to each room of the house, splashing holy water in the corners of the rooms while she read a passage from her Bible. When we got to the boys' room and she started blessing it, we suddenly heard a loud bang from downstairs.

I ran downstairs to the kitchen and found Coca-Cola all over the kitchen walls and floor. We'd had a big, plastic-wrapped case of 2-liter bottles sitting on the floor, drinks for an upcoming birthday party. One of the bottles, while still in the plastic wrap, completely burst all on its own. The bottle had exploded and soda was everywhere. Again, each of these things happening on its own wouldn't seem like a big deal, but added together, they're kind of strange don't you think? Shortly after this, we baptized the boys and things started to settle down. Soon after, we moved out of the house and into our next story. 

Baptizing the boys

The next house we rented was definitely in need of some love and care. The owner of the place warned us prior to moving in, that the guy who'd rented it before us was a strange bird. He'd cemented up one of her bedroom windows and I think she said he'd painted one of the other windows black. She was convinced that he'd been selling drugs out of the house, but never had proof. When she'd evicted him, he got mad and ripped out most of the cabinets and light fixtures. 

We went ahead and took the place because we needed to move out of the first house as someone wanted to buy it (and we were tired of being stalked by shadowy figures and dealing with soda-exploding mayhem). So, I painted the front of the house and all the walls inside, cleaned it up, and made it livable for our family, while the owner had the cement knocked out and the window re-installed. Most of the issues with that house (and ultimately the reason we moved out) were electrical and plumbing issues. We had some leaking in several places in the roof when it rained. But other strange things started to go on too. 

Here's the house after I painted it

It began with strange sounds on the roof at night. It's common to hear birds and small animals traipsing across the roof, especially since many of the roofs on the typical Panamanian homes are so thin, but this was different. These were heavy footsteps. This sounded like a person was running across the roof. 

Right behind our house was a small river. Many Panamanians believe, or have at least heard the stories, that witches gather by the rivers at night. Another story is that they run across peoples' roofs at night. 

Well, whether or not it was a witch, I can't exactly say, but I can tell you that it was loud enough and happened often enough, that it woke me up most nights. Then, sometimes I'd heard crying outside my bedroom window. It sounded far away, but it was a strange noise, like a mix between someone crying and someone laughing. It was definitely creepy.

I went to bed one night, right after hearing the strange crying, in boxers and a T-shirt, how I sleep most nights. I've never sleepwalked in my life. Never. I've NEVER done it. I might mumble in my sleep and I sometimes grind my teeth, but I never sleepwalk. And I'm a very light sleeper, so even the softest of noises or movements will jolt me from my sleep. 

I woke up late that night, on the living room couch, completely dressed, shoes on and all, with my car keys in my pocket. I remember sitting up and feeling confused, but really groggy at the same time. I wanted to get up and go back to bed, but I felt exhausted, like so exhausted that I couldn't get up. It was almost like I'd been drugged or something. I laid back down and went to sleep and woke up in the morning, still fully dressed. Mar seemed more scared than I was. I was really confused, but she was actually scared.

In addition to these little odd things going on, the most significant change was in our attitudes. Mar and I argued more than ever in that house and even people who visited seemed to be in a bad mood as soon as they entered the house. My mother-in-law and the owner of the house were great friends before we moved in, but by the time we moved out, were practically at each other's throats. One of my wife's cousins visited once and told us later that as soon as she entered the house she suddenly felt drained of energy. 

Check out these dark clouds rolling in over that house 

(like in the Poltergeist movie, or any other stormy day in Panama, lol)  

Eventually, we moved out, and as soon as we did, everything started to go back to normal. Mar and I got along a lot better, my mother-in-law and the owner of the house went back to being friends, it all just smoothed out. About a year later, the owner of the house stopped by to visit. She was trying to sell that house. She came by to tell us how glad she was that we'd left when we did. Apparently, when she started fixing up the house to sell it, the workers removed the tile on the ceiling and you'll never believe what they found.

I get chills just thinking about it. Above our bedroom, where Mar and I slept every night, there was an altar, one of those evil Santeria altars right above our bed. When we lived in the house, I couldn't figure out why this one light switch in the hallway wouldn't work. I'd changed the bulb and everything and eventually just figured it was another electrical issue. Wrong. The light switch was working just fine. Only it was turning on the lights at the altar in the ceiling. So there I was turning on the altar and turning it off again, over and over. 

Well, that's the end of the crazy stories I have for now. I was all for buying used houses before, but I think in the future I'll stick with new construction. I don't know about you, but I'd rather have a long punch list of things to fix than an altar above my bed. Just sayin'. 

Thanks for reading,

Chris