When I first started writing this, I was on a Cayman Airways flight to Panama with my friends Lynne and Carol.
Despite the fact that I’d always heard great things about the place, I had never visited previous to that trip. My knowledge extended to the hats and the canal – pretty pathetic. In fact, this year I am determined to improve my geographical awareness. I thought I was quite globe-savvy until I played an online game where you had to pinpoint various cities and countries. Let’s just say that Air Force recruitment won’t be knocking on my door any time soon.
It’s pretty fabulous that Panama is less than a two-hour direct flight away. I never realised it was so close.
The airport was smooth and easy – no lineups at immigration – and before we knew it, we were checking into the Waldorf Astoria hotel in downtown Panama City. At least, Lynne and I were. Carol, who was staying longer, opted for staying at a condo in the Yoo. It was a stone’s throw from our place with a much better view. While she looked out over the ocean from her balcony on the 59th floor, we had a bird’s-eye view of another building that could use a bit of a refresh. No balcony had we – just floor-to-ceiling windows that did nothing for my fear of heights.
It’s always interesting to visit a country where English isn’t the first language. I had always thought my Spanish, although rough, wasn’t too bad. I remembered when Lynne and I had to negotiate our way around Spain in a rental car and we got lost a couple of times. With a combination of charades-level gesturing, ever-increasing volume and very broken Español, I managed to get directions from locals that put us back on the right track.
Maybe it was my age or lack of practice, but this time I was struggling to find the word for ‘door’, let alone ask complex questions. You know when people tell you that sometimes residents of foreign lands will pretend not to speak English because they feel you should make an effort to learn some of their language? It only took a few moments of hearing me murder their beloved vernacular before hotel and restaurant staff happily revealed that that particular cacophony was no longer necessary – they spoke Inglés.
On one evening, the three of us decided to make a dining reservation at Azahar in Carol’s building. We knew nothing about the place, other than it came highly recommended and the online menu looked very appetising.
It was on the seventh floor of the Yoo, but there was no ‘7’ button in her lift. As the Yoo covered two towers, we figured it had to be in the other one. Thus began our quest to find the elusive venue. We went up and down different levels in both buildings and ended up in the service lift at one point, as it seemed to be the only way to get access to that floor. The whole thing scratched Lynne’s ‘Dora the Explorer’ itch; she led us down one unfamiliar passage after the next. She always does this with such authority, even though she’s as clueless as the rest of us, so we follow like sheep.
Turned out you had to walk through a flower shop and open what appeared to be a heavy metal door to cold storage. A couple of guys behind us were lost, too. The braver one opened the door, saying, “Well, either I’m going to freeze to death or we’re getting dinner.”
The latter was revealed to be the case, confirmed by the host who told us that, yes, we had reached our destination. Apparently the restaurant had gone with a ‘speakeasy’ concept – so well disguised that Al Capone himself might have taken a couple of wrong turns on the way there. Good thing we found it when we did, or Lynne would have eventually ended up banging on a guest room door with confidence, convinced it was just a red herring.
We were only in Panama City for a few days (you must go), and I threw a lot of ‘gracias’es around to win some good favour, but it would have been nice to be a bit more fluent. I’d forgotten how useful it is to know at least one language other than your own. I tried Duolingo Spanish for a while, and after five weeks of the app’s green owl jumping up and down in delight at my progress, was positive you could drop me in the middle of Madrid and I’d be embraced as one of their own. Now, I’m not so sure.
I guess I’ll just have to travel back to Panama to further my education. “¿Cómo se dice ‘Gee, what a shame… ’ en Español?”
Related Videos
