a day in transit in Tokyo

No sooner was I back from Nicaragua than I had to fly to Bangkok - not an easy trip to do from Panama on an NGO budget.  Going via Europe was too expensive, and routes going the other way, over the Pacific, all involved a couple of nights in different cities or airports on the way there.  To my great good fortune, however, the cheapest of these flights was the Panama-Atlanta-Seattle-Tokyo-Bangkok route - with two nights in Tokyo!!  Having never been to Japan before I was very excited.

I tried to make the most of my day by getting up very early (not difficult given the jetlag) and starting off at the fish market.  Unfortunately it seems neither the tuna auctions nor the general fish wholesale market are now open to tourists, but I was able to get a very tasty bowl of various types of super fresh sashimi in one of the little local cafes surrounding the market.

From there I went to the Hama-rikyu Gardens, a very peaceful park with skyscrapers on one side and the river on the other.  I took a boat from there to the old district of Asakusa, where I discovered matcha green tea (mmm!) before making my way through the old shopping streets to Sensoji Temple, the oldest temple in Tokyo said to have been built in 628.  It was full of people, Japanese visitors (or were some of them Chinese tourists?) taking photos of the shrine as well as praying to Buddha, but it still somehow had a calm and peaceful air.

In the afternoon I moved on to the National Museum, which had an excellent collection from all around Asia as well as from Japan itself.  I ended up spending three hours in there - after which exhaustion kicked in and plans to catch some kind of evening entertainment were shelved.  The next morning's plans were also shelved, or at least thwarted, as I arrived at Yoyogi Park only to be told that the authorities had decided the previous evening to close it because of an infestation of dengue-carrying mosquitoes.

I hadn't known what to expect of Tokyo but really enjoyed my stay there.  It was an intriguing mix of very modern and very traditional.

saying goodbye to Nicaragua

After the Papaturro I travelled along a different river, this time the four-hour boat trip along the Rio San Juan, to El Castillo.  This village, of 1,500 people, lies beside a set of rapids, at the foot of the 17th century castle that gives the place its name.

The town was home to a great Nicaraguan heroine, the 19-year-old Rafaela Herrera who inspired the defenders to victory against a British raiding party after her father, the commander, died.  They could not defy the British for ever, however, and in 1780 another British party, this time led by a 22-year-old Horatio Nelson, captured the fortress.  Most of the conquerors died of dysentery over the next few months, finally abandoning the fortress in 1781.

I spent a couple of hours around the castle as the museum is excellent and there were a few nice birds hanging out in a big fruiting tree.  Then after a long lazy lunch in a restaurant beside the river I took the boat back to San Carlos.

In the evening I went to the little lakeside park to check my emails - the Sandinista government having made it a legal requirement that every town provide free wifi in its main square or park.  There were people around with cameras, and I soon discovered that the president - Comandante Daniel himself - had been expected for the formal opening of a nearby bridge, but that all such events had been cancelled earlier that day as it was felt to be bad form to be celebrating something while a dozen miners were trapped in a mine in the north of the country.  I was very sad to have missed him.  I gave money to the Nicaragua Solidarity Campaign in the early 1980s, to support the Sandinistas, and to see one of their main men in person (at that time a leader of the revolutionaries and now president) would have been very nice.

But I went back to my little hostel - $4 for a comfortable little wooden room of my own (with shared, but very clean, toilets and showers) - for my last night in Nicaragua.  The country said goodbye to me in its own style, with a small earthquake (four point something) at 4:30 in the morning...

The nest day I took another boat, to the border crossing into Costa Rica, and then a couple of buses to San Jose where I stopped for the night.  I just had enough time to visit the gold museum the next morning, which I must say was very good, with typical gold objects from pre-Colombian times but also with extensive information, mostly in English.

Then I took the bus back to Panama City.  I'd chosen to take the midday bus and arrive at 4 in the morning (rather than the midnight one) because I was keen to see the scenery of Costa Rica, but I was distracted by the conversation of the man sitting next to me.  He had fought in Nicaragua with the contras, part of an elite unit whose task was to kill Eden Pastora and Daniel Ortega.  Clearly they'd had no success with Comandante Daniel!  I was keen to get information from him about the grenade attack on Eden Pastora, as I don't think it was ever officially confirmed that the US (the contras) were behind it, but he wouldn't talk - claimed that his years there had been stressful and he'd needed psychiatric treatment afterwards for PTSD, so I couldn't push him as much as I'd have liked to.  He wasn't overly impressed to find out I had donated to the Sandinistas but we certainly had an interesting conversation and the journey back home passed very quickly.

boat trips in southern Nicaragua

The ferry departed Granada at 2pm, arriving in San Carlos around 5am - a 15 hour trip across Lake Nicaragua.  On arrival, after a very nice breakfast, I transferred to a different wharf and a different boat, this time for the four-hour trip across the south of the lake and then up the Papaturro River to the Los Guatuzos Natural Reserve.

I'd been warned about the Granada - San Carlos trip, about the need for warm clothes and sea-sicknes tablets.  Fortunately we had a very smooth crossing, and my T-shirt, shirt, fleece and down jacket together were enough to keep me warm, but sleeping in a deck chair is only easy for the first hour or so.  I was thus very envious of the locals on the trip to Los Guatuzos who came prepared with hammocks to string up across the boat.  The rest of us shuffled and wriggled about on the hard wooden benches as our bodies stiffened and our bottoms became numb.

So what did I do on my first evening at Los Guatuzos?  A three-hour boat trip...

This one was different, however, as the excellent guide pointed out various birds sleeping on their perches (including five different species of kingfisher), a large group of baby caymans (maybe two or three days old), adult caymans, a gorgeous red-eyed tree frog and a black and tan coloured rat-like creature.  For the first hour or so the river was also covered in a stream of thousands of bats flying over its surface, hunting the millions of insects that came out as the sun went down.

The next morning I took yet another boat trip - back in the same direction but with different things to see and more stops to get out and walk.  We saw dozens more kingfishers, trogons, sloths, caymans, and a few new birds to add to my list.  The guide also had me wading through a swamp, and climbing a tree, then swinging on two "Tarzan" hanging roots he had fashioned into a swing - determined to get me out of my comfort zone, although in their own way the mosquitoes were already doing that.

We were out for six hours, and the highlight for me was a little thumbnail-sized poisonous orange and blue tree frog.

It was also interesting though to walk through a local homestead, seeing how the local people live in this remote place.  They kept chickens and pigs, and grew rice, cassava, maize, avocadoes, beans, carambolas, lemons, cocoa and coffee - yes, I was told, they made their own coffee from the beans on their trees.  Amazingly they also had a tobacco tree, from where they dried the leaves and rolled their own cigars!  I guess they would be classed as poor, as they earn very little money, but they produce virtually everything they need - the only foodstuff they needed to buy being sugar and salt.

In the afternoon I went for a walk, following the only road out of the village as far as the next little community (which was as far as the road went).  Only people on foot, bicycle and horseback use the road, as there are no roads into the area on which to bring in cars.  Instead I was surrounded by howler monkeys and birds, such as this beautiful bare-throated tiger heron.

The guide's wife told me that this idyllic place is set to disappear underwater, as the proposed new canal will cause the level of the lake (and thus surrounding swamps such as Los Guatuzos) to rise by a metre.  I very much hope she is wrong.

land of lakes and volcanoes

The bells of the massive white Leon cathedral (the largest in Central America) rang out, mingling somehow with the little bells of ice-cream sellers in the central park plaza in front.  I was taking advantage of the recent introduction of free wifi in all such plazas in towns across the country - the ruling Sandanista party trying to make technology available to the masses.

The sky darkened suddenly.  Along with everyone else in the plaza I rushed towards home.  Lightning flashed around, but what with the drums of the school marching band and the bangs of fireworks going off I couldn't tell whether there was thunder.  Then big fat raindrops started to fall - just as I got to the front door.

The storm continued for three hours, until water was rushing down the streets in torrents.  The third day of rain in my three days here.  Badly needed rain for Leon where they get very little, but I rather wished it could have waited another few days until after my departure.

I took a risk on the unusual weather and booked myself on a trip to Telica Volcano, where it was apparently possible to see magma inside the crater.  Four of us hiked up the volcano with our guide, under a miraculously clear sky, but we still did not get to see any magma as the lack of wind meant that the volcanic gases were sitting in the crater blocking the view.  Still it was a lovely trip with nice views of other nearby volcanoes too.

A few days later I went to see another volcano, at Masaya.  Here I knew that no magma would be visible but again there were lovely views of the crater and the sulphurous smell of the gases.  We also went deep into a lava tube, and watched bats streaming out of a cave beside the volcano.  Nicaragua is referred to (by their tourist board, I think) as 'the land of lakes and volcanoes' and it is an accurate description although they shouldn't forget about the beautiful colonial cities of Leon and Granada.

I felt that Granada was somewhere I could seriously consider retiring when the time comes, with its stunning old colonial houses - not much to look at on the outside but with great character inside, a forest of wooden pillars surrounding wonderful courtyards, some with swimming pools and most with some of the living space (even the kitchens) effectively outdoors as they are located under the eaves but open to the central courtyard.  It is hot all year and has few mosquitoes so a semi-outdoor home would be perfect.  I had thought that Leon would appeal more with its socialist and intellectual character, rather than the more genteel, bourgeois Granada, but if I'm honest then Granada would be the easier place to live ... I can just imagine my collection of African masks hanging on the old adobe walls.

Spanish lessons and religion in Leon

The first of my three weeks' leave in Nicaragua was in the old colonial city - and former capital - of León. I'd arranged a week with a Spanish school, staying with a local family so as to get a better feel for the place as well as more opportunities to practice my Spanish. The lessons went reasonably well although the teacher was more keen to teach me grammar than to give me the conversation practice I wanted.  On the fourth day she was settling down to teach me how to conjugate the pluperfect subjunctive when I rebelled, and just refused to listen!  Perhaps it is an important tense in Spanish, but as I can´t yet communicate in simple terms what I did yesterday, I felt that this was just going too far!

Outside of the lessons, I spent a lot of time just wandering around the city.  León played a major role in the Sandinista revolution, and something about its characterisation as a place of left-wing revolutionary intellectuals appealed to me.  The Sandinista side of its history was certainly evident, from the murals (and graffiti) around the city to the Revolutionary War Museum.  What presented itself even more strongly however was the religious fervour of the place.  The city contains many beautiful churches, and its cathedral is the largest in Central America.  There always seemed to be church services going on and they were always full of people.

The end of my stay coincided with a local festival, the 'Chiquita Gritería'.  This commemorates the time when a local volcano was erupting and covering the city with ash, and a local priest decide to cry out to the Virgin Mary to make it stop, which miraculously (or coincidentally), it did.  There is a mass in the cathedral and a loud cry to Mary, followed by the whirling of some papier mache giant figures in the central square.  Then the townspeople, plus many peasants bussed in from the surrounding countryside for the occasion, tour the city collecting free sweets from houses and businesses who have decided to participate.  You can tell these because each has prepared a tableau in their front room with a statuette of the Virgin Mary with the blue Nicaraguan flag draped around her, and music will be blaring out from the property.



The photo here is one of the more impressive ones, which even includes an erupting volcano.  The people touring the city go up to each such house and ask through the open door/window, "Quien causa tanta alegría?" (who is causing such happiness?), to which the answer comes back, "La asunción de Maria!" and sweets are duly handed out.  Although I found the tableaux pretty tasteless, in some ways this seemed like a nice, social custom that got everyone out greeting their neighbours, but I did notice that some of the peasants looked suspiciously and sadly like this was the only time they would have the luxury of sweets, as they filled carrier bags with as many as they could get their hands on.  Despite the opulence on show in some of the churches, Nicaragua is still a very poor country.

a weekend on the coast

A long weekend on the Pacific coast to relax and hopefully catch some sun had to be postponed in June when I was asked to take on an additional assignment in Egypt, but finally I was on the boat crossing the water to this secluded little lodge in Chiriqui province, my work left behind for a few days.

The lodge (they call themselves a resort, but to me that term implies something much more luxurious) is simple, and quite rustic, but perfectly comfortable.  No air conditioning, wifi only if you ask for the office to be made available to you, and a reliance on solar power means that electricity-guzzling appliances such as hairdryers cannot be used.  The lodge has ten guest rooms in five well-spaced cottages, but for the first couple of days I was the only guest.  So I had all three beaches and all 67 hectares of forest to myself...

Except that I was sharing it with the resident wildlife - the iguanas, white-tailed deer, howler monkeys, vine snakes, hog-nosed vipers, hermit crabs, numerous butterflies, black hawk-eagles, a group of four extremely noisy house wrens, flocks of equally noisy red-lored parrots, and, unfortunately, rather a lot of mosquitoes.  Of course there is other wildlife too that I didn't manage to see - that apparently includes white-faced capuchin monkeys, anteaters, and boa constrictors, amongst others.

I spent a fair amount of time swimming in the sea, and more time swinging in hammocks reading my book, although the rain limited my time sunbathing.  I slept like a log, with the sound of the waves crashing onto a nearby beach sending me to sleep in a way that I wish the traffic noise at home did.  I also ate extremely well, as the owner previously ran several restaurants and bars in the US and could rustle up a mean stuffed courgette followed by pear poached in cream, rum and cinnamon.  Despite all the walking and swimming I suspect I have come home a pound or two heavier.  Certainly, if you can tolerate the mosquitoes, Panama does have some beautiful corners.

metro-politan Panama City

I've written very little about Panama City since I moved here.  I think I've complained already about the Americanisation of the place - the elevated freeways, high-rise tower blocks, shopping malls and fast food joints - but it's not a bad place, just nowhere near as interesting as my previous home of Dakar.  It is fast-developing place, however.  Everyone knows about the on-going canal expansion, but above is the new metro, opened just a few months ago, and supposedly the first of four planned metro lines although the newly-elected president seems to have some different priorities so who knows whether the other three lines will get built.  It doesn't help my own journey to work but is clearly an enormous step forward for the city.

At the same time, we have the Metropolitan Park, some 230 hectares of dry tropical forest within the city boundaries.  It is part of a corridor of greenery across the country, set aside in part to protect the supply of water needed to operate the Panama Canal, but also providing a haven for wildlife and a nice recreational spot for the human population.  I was there last Sunday, arriving early to catch the birds before the people and heat drove them deeper into the bushes, and was lucky enough to see a pair of boat-billed herons roosting high in a tree.  These are nocturnal birds but one was awake and preening.


Not that many Panamanians go to this park however (a colleague expressed surprise when I showed him a photo of a howler monkey I took on Sunday, as he has never seen a monkey in his life and did not know there were any in the city), most preferring something rather more urban.  This, to me an unappealing bit of concrete, is where most of them prefer to go on a Sunday; you're not supposed to sit, or even walk, on the few strips of grass.

I do like some aspects of the Panamanian character, not least that they are very polite, being even better at queuing than the British and usually happy to stop their car to let a pedestrian cross the road.  But I don't understand their taste for all things concrete.  Nor, I have to say, their taste in clothes.  I went out for an evening with a colleague to a place she goes to regularly, with a live band playing Latin music (I still can't tell my salsa from my merengue...) and a crowd who are keen to dance.  There were more tight trousers and high heels, more leopard print fabric and more boob jobs than I ever want to see again in one place.  You might be thankful that I have no photos to illustrate that.