Travelling around the world - Bocas del Torro bound

Friday – on the 8pm night bus to Bocas del Torro
After a brief stop over at Panama City (which has a great China town - def worth a visit even just for people watching) we're on our way to Bocas del Torro, another small group of island off the east coast of Panama which border Costa Rica. We didn't stay long as I'd picked up a bit of a fever but am sure it will go away soon.

11:25pm

It’s cold. Really really cold. Aircon. Are people’s bedrooms really this cold in Panama?!?! Stupid question. Mmmmm sleep time.

Saturday – Mundo Taitu hostel, Bocas del torro 3.42pm
I went straight to sleep when we finally arrived at 9am and awoke a few minutes ago to find my fever gone. Wahoo praise God! I finally feel alive again. The islands are beautiful, cone shaped thatched huts set on jetties poking out of the water. The water is a clear greeny blue and I can't wait to jump in. We're hopefully going to do a dive later on too.

Monday – back at the hostel pooped 01.33
We went on an all day scuba trip today. It was great to be diving again. A 2 tank dive and more for the log book. We also got to go to Red Frog Beach, a tranquil yellow sand beach which was stunning, absolutely incredible. The ocean felt amazing, literally softer and more silk like than any I have ever swum in before in my life. I am not joking. Playa Blanca was a little too perfect for me, the sea too blue, the sand too white. Red Frog on the other hand was yellow sanded, palm tree studded, a gentle slope down to the warm clear turquoise blue waters. My idea of perfection anyway.

So, to the diving. People who say snorkeling is no better than diving obviously have not ever been diving. It’s a completely different experience. with snorkeling you are looking in from above. Even with free diving you are limited, restricted, whereas with scuba a whole other world is opened up.

These dives were my first in the Caribbean and I must say I was very impressed with the coral formations on the reef. A veritable underwater jungle illuminating the surroundings with a whole host of bright (yes bright, despite the 15 metres we were below the surface) pinks, blues and greens. An over-sized pink, black and white fish with explosive markings round it eyes just lazily swam past my eye line. Gently moving lilac sponge like fingers stretch their way upwards towards the light, their fond undulating in the seas´ current. Strange cabbage like formations protrude at all angles, their generally dusky rose pink colour forming the canvas for more spectacular shades to shine. Enormous greenish cones in random collective bouquets reach out from the oceans floor, their smooth ends tapering down to meet the sand's embrace. Small shoals of fabulously coloured fish dart here and there, the sunlight reflecting brilliantly off their scales. Intermittent clouds of bubbles erupt from the side of our regulators, fighting each other in their rush to break the surface. The very essence of the ocean is in my ears.

Travelling round the world 101 - Las Islas de San Blas, Panama

Saturday, 08.31 – somewhere in the Caribbean.
I do not know where to even start. We´re now floating on the south of the Caribbean sea just outside one of the main Kuna villages on the San Blas islands off the Panamanian coast. The motor still isn't fixed (we sailed all the way from Cartegena to the San Blas without an engine, which the captain told us after we'd arrived at the islands that it was really dangerous and we were lucky to make it. !) NB if you want to travel from Colombia to Panama or vice versa the only way to do it is by air or sea as the land route currently has no road connection through the Darién Gap connecting North America with South America and it is therefore the missing link of the Pan-American Highway.

So, we anchored just off Portvenir (one of the main Kuna villages) and then were ferried across by speedboat for a ´guided tour´of the island by one of the ´locals´. It was a bit strange, rather as if we had gone to visit a zoo from the way he was showing us round, incredibly interesting though mind. You are not permitted to take photographs of the Kuna people, well if you do you have to pay $1 per photo as tourism is their only form of monitory income. 

The Kuna people are an indigious people who live on the San Blas islands, some of whom now live in Panama itself. Our guide, the father of the large family that were to cook us our evening meal later on, was lovely, and had the most incredible genuine smile. It really lit up his whole face from within. He reminded me of a child that had never really grown up in a really positive way. Seeing the village from an insiders perspective was so interesting. All the intricately palm thatched hut entrances were very small and low to the ground so that we had to stoop almost double to enter, presumably to prevent to torrential monsoon rain that appears occasionally throughout the year from entering in. The first hut that we went into had a solitary old weathered looking man preparing pure cocaine at a small table. The second seemed to be the family rooms with 14 hammocks strung up (it slept at least that number or more from what I could see) and a small blue and white portable TV set in the corner near the fire that flickered in the smoky dark which a large group of children gathered round to watch American rap videos. I am not joking. Various animals wandered here and there in the gloom. The whole place had a surreal quality, like it had been dragged too quickly into the present and western 'civilisation'.

12 noon,

The toilets on the islands are simply boards missing at the end of intermittent jetties surrounded by palm wall thatch. Later as we were kayaking in the beautiful blue tranquil water, you could occasionally see human feces bob past. Well what else are they going to do with it? The islands aren't large enough to have waste disposal sights.

3:25pm

In ye oldey days (i.e. before tourism really took off in the region) the Kuna people were entirely self sufficient, using fish and coconuts as currency. Today, the western world has certainly left its mark encouraged by the cocaine industry and tourism in general. Big Yamaha motors speed past old hollowed out traditional canoes (all made from one single enormous tree!) Lots of the younger males walking round with american basketball vests and sweatbands. It is generally the older women that you see in the colourful traditional dress. The woman have goldish rings in their noses and ears (but not in a bull ring sense), Colourful scarves adorn their heads necks and waists, bracelets their forearms and wide embroidered anklets fill their calves from the feet up, The men are more casually dressed in worn vests and faded varieties of shorts and cropped trousers.
    

It made me sad in a way that the Kuna people put on these trips for troupes of Gringos (the slang in Latin America for foreigners) to peer into their homes and lives as if they were exhibits. As for me, I think that it is so important that indigenous peoples such as the Kuna continue to flourish, survive, and uphold their culture, if possible without the influence of the western world. But what do I know? I am lucky to live with all the opportunities that being a middle class westerner provides, I've never had to think about putting food on the table or where my clothes are going to come from. Still, I can empathise with parents who are worried with the number of youth who want to disappear to the mainland and just learn Spanish.

5:45pm:

Later that afternoon a young man pulled up alongside our captains boat and offered to sell his entire canoes catch (about 4/5 lobsters, 6/7 crayfish and a HUGE red snapper) for only 8$. We were all slightly shocked when our captain paid him (after haggling) so slipped him a few extra dollars as it hardly seemed fair even if haggling is part of the culture.

8pm

I was dubbed Melissa Émma Lolita´by the younger daughters of our host Kuna family after I was asked/forced to sing for them all in the darkened family hut as we waited for dinner to be cooked (a huge red snapper) while a sudden shower poured outside. The only whole song that I knew off by heart on top of my head was, 'Adio Mio' which is a mainland Spanish love song. Still, the girls seemed to enjoy it. Slightly surreal singing in an almost pitch black palm thatched hut, my now slightly reddened face illuminated by yellow old school oil lamps and the smoke of the fire, whilst the rest of the group watched on. I think I like my new name though I may keep it :p