The Young Girl

There was a young girl in Nic'ragua

Who smiled as she rode on a jaguar.

They returned from the ride

With the young girl inside

And the smile on the face of the jaguar.

This limerick, credited to Anonymous, can be found on the first page of Salman Rushdie's "Jaguar Smile". When I started reading this book, which is set in the Nigaragua of the 80's, I realised that Mr. Rushdie had done it again. "Midnight's Children" taught me more about India than any Lonely Planet ever could; now, Central America started making more sense. Most striking was his observation that, although the busses were full, the city was empty. I sometimes have the same impression: the traffic ('El Tranque') is legendary, the many fast-food restaurants here in Panama always seem to be packed. But take a stroll in the old part of town, and you can count the number of people you encounter on two hands.

But without further ado, here today's special treat, a rewritten version of the limerick by yours truly. Adapted to fit the geographical setting (clears throat):

There was a young girl in Panama

Who was in a great big dilemma.

But she couldn't decide

If to run or to hide

So she stayed and just ate a banana.

(Don't worry. I plan to keep my day job.)

Shake It, Shake It, Shake It!

I suppose it is an automatic response, a coping mechanism, or just good ol' human nature, but I cannot stop comparing Panama with Sweden. And nowhere is the contrast more stark than in the gym (I wouldn't be surprised if the bureaucrats went to sister schools). Where in Sweden you have hard-working, serious, dedicated trainers who make sure you get the most out of yourself without feeling pressured; who use their strap-on microphones to educate you on the exact effect of this or that exercise, and who keep their lofty presence on a stage away from the sweating masses (while managing to look pristine), the Panamanian trainer will be right in there with you, shaking his hips to music loud enough to blow you ear drum and shamelessly flirting with each and every female. I guess both sides have their advantages and disadvantages, but honestly, do the Panamanian girls really have to wear push-ups to work out?

The Red Devil

In any other part of the world, the passenger is the person who decides where a taxi should go. Not in Panama: here, the driver decides if he can be bothered taking you. So even though a trip from my home to the office costs about half of what a train trip of twenty minutes would cost in Germany, I have decided to find alternative transport. This is a so-called 'diablo rojo', a red devil which is basically a brightly-coloured old US school bus. It's a bit sweatier and generally more crowded than a taxi, but it does make every trip to work an experience. And the up side is, they can also be used as party busses. Literally. Just take out the seats and put in a bar...

Oh wie schön ist Panama!

I woke up last night (alright, late evening) to oppressing humidity. And weird noises (case in point, a squirrel just came and sat on my window ledge). My first thought, all jet-lagged, was dammit, am I back in India? Cause it sure felt that way. But then I saw the blinking of the microwave in front of my bed and I realised that India, this was not.

I am currently in Panama. Arrived yesterday morning, was picked up by my beautiful landlords, and deposited in my own room which, along with the aforementioned microwave sports a fridge, a small cooking stove and, most importantly, a coffee machine.

I admit, I haven't seen much of the city yet. But the glimpses I have managed to get are promising. From concrete ocean promenades to more skyscrapers than I have ever seen wedged into a small area. And they're still building. But all the towers still can't keep out the pervasive smell of the ocean. Not that I'm complaining, makes me feel as if I were on holiday. However, this is not a holiday, I shall be hard at work. But I shall do my best to keep you updated on the adventures of "La Alemana Latina" (for now limited to trying out the stove for the first time. Wish me luck)!

Tempting. But probably not true.

Have you ever noticed just how easy life is? We are told which side of the train to disembark. There are instructions of use on my tube of toothpaste. And should you come across a gimmick, thing, whatsit, and aren't quite sure of how to use, hold, work or process this, well jeez, google it. What are you, born yesterday?

I would be the first to criticise any linkage between, say, someone's disability to independently ascertain the side of the train where the platform is and the (somewhat disturbingly) high chances of Donald Trump becoming President. But it is tempting. You gotta admit.

Since, however, the sun is shining (on a completely unrelated note, I never did realise just how dependent I was on this ball of fire. Seven months of darkness would break anyone. Goes to show you really don't know what you got till it's gone), instead of sending a lament out into cyberspace, here's something (slightly addictive) to keep those brain cells active: Word Bubbles. Also useful for procrastination. And might want to be used just before making a big decision. Just in case.