Richard Detrich’s Boquete, Panama Weblog

Oh, the weather outside is the usual “Boquete beautiful” . . . sunny, 75 degrees right now, no wind . . . perfect day.  It’s just that I am under the weather with a cold.  I rarely get sick and usually if I do, it’s a cold.  And usually it’s one I’ve picked up in an airplane or airport.  This one is complements of Miami Airport.  If there is ever a contest for “worst airport in the world” Miami would be right up there at the top.  I was stuck in MIA for eight boring, boring hours with all of these refugees from colder snowy climates hacking, sniffling, and sneezing.  There is not a drinking fountain in all of Concourse C, so if you want a drink you are forced to buy water at $2 a pint!  For lunch I had chicken salad (actually quite good) on a soggy croissant for $12.

You come from a beautiful cruise ship, living in luxury, and then you have to deal with an airport like MIA.  And by the way, Fort Lauderdale is worse!  There is NOTHING to look at, do, or eat at Fort Lauderdale.  Since the days we were in the cruise travel business I have always longed for the day to come when you could just go to your local travel agent and be beamed via a transporter to the ship.  Just “Beam me onboard!”

OK, we have a lot of snake species in Panama, 127 to be exact.  And, yes, a few of these are poisonous. . .  only 20.  Some of the most common in our area, left to right above starting at the top, coral snake (tiny, tiny mouth so you have to try to get bitten by these, generally between toes and fingers is the only place they can really grab hold), bushmaster (one of the deadliest, big with lots of venom, but typically only out in the real wilderness away from civilization), pelagic sea snake(most deadly, mostly found in ocean out around islands way out in the Pacific, however swim in large schools, I have seen occasional little one wash up dead on shore),  next two fer-de-lance (very poisonous, most common poisonous snake in our area, aggressive, comfortable in populated areas, in dry season hangs out around water sources, two types of deadly venom), and next two are the eyelash pit viper(small, various colors, hangs out in bushes, coffee trees and likes garden variety coleus, has prehensile tail like a monkey so can hang on with it’s tail while it strikes out). 

So, do we live in fear?  No way!  Actually its hard to find these snakes if you want to.  Herpetologists who visit looking for snakes are always frustrated that they can’t find them.  Your chances of actually getting bit by a poisonous snake in Panama are about the same as getting hit by lightning.  Most populated areas in Panama are within 1 hour drive of a government hospital all of which have serum for snake bites.  Many of the Indian groups have their own natural plant remedies for snake bites.  Most of those who do get bitten are agricultural workers.

So in Panama you do the same thing as you do if you are walking down the sidewalk in Manhattan or Chicago or any other city - you watch where you step!   You do the same thing in my yard, more lest you step in ”gifts” left by three dogs than that you step on a snake.  It’s not that different than in any town.  You look before you cross the street.  You are just aware.  Unlike Chicago, New York, Miami, Los Angeles, or Oxnard, you don’t have to be aware of and watch out for gang bangers and drive-by shooters.

Actually what inspired me to write this blog was Alfonso, the Indian who works on our farm, walking over to show us a 6 foot long fer-de-lance he had just speared while trimming coffee trees.    I’m glad I didn’t step in that!!

I want to thank my college friend Henry Kwant for sending me this picture from his home in Michigan . . . taken just last week!  It reminds me of why I live in Panama!!!

And, on behalf of a grateful nation, I want to thank Henry Kwant.  Henry and I hung around with another good friend, Jay Groendyke.  During Viet Nam I was in seminary, a “staff specialist” which gave me a 2nd Lieutenant rank in the Army, while completing my studies.  Later, I would resign, in protest against the war.  Jay’s draft number wasn’t up, but Henry’s was, and he was drafted.  I remember when Jay and I went to visit Henry at Fort Leonard Wood: we were so scared we expected that at any minute we would be shanghaied and sent off to Viet Nam.  Henry did go to Viet Nam . . . and when he finally got back to the states it was in an Army hospital.  And Jay and I went to visit him there as well.

It was one of those awesome, sobering and never-to-be forgotten moments of life.  While we were both happy to see Henry alive and starting the long process of “recovering” . . . it was one of the scariest and saddest moments of my life.  Here were kids our age who had been blown apart in a war that was ill-conceived and had no purpose other than to further the political goals of old men in Washington and the Pentagon.  These were kids who just did what their country asked . . . or demanded . . . and they were paying the price and would pay the price their entire lives.  And then there were the thousands and thousands who were sacrificed . . . for what?  We were out to defeat Communism or stop “dominoes”, whatever the hell that meant . . . and Communism would self-destruct anyway, and Viet Nam would become our valued trading partner. 

Here were kids in Striker frames, with no legs, some with no legs or arms . . . and it all seemed like such an icredible waste.  But those kids, and guys like Henry, many of whom are old men now just like me, some still fighting demons of the Viet Nam War, were never rightly welcomed home or appreciated . . . War sucks, and the old men who make wars, and those who make wars and take lives based on lies, they suck too, but the men and women who were and are willing to go when called, or drafted, and willing to sacrifice . . . to them we owe eternal gratitude regardless of the right or wrong of the job they were given to do by some asinine politicians. 

So, thanks Henry, and to all the rest of you . . . whether you are the CEO of a major corporation or still smokin’ pot . . . thanks! 

And for their sake, and the sake of the men and women now serving, let’s end this madness and bring our troops home now.  Support our troops: bring them home!

You had to ask, didn’t you!  After being away 22 days . . . it’s actually coming quite well!

Understand that the builder promised it would be ready “before Christmas” . . . he didn’t actually specify what year, however, and I never really believed him.    Yesterday we had what I affectionately used to call in real estate the “come to Jesus talk”, when you force a client to face up that the house he thinks is worth $800,000 is really only worth about $500,000 so it’s time to lower the price or find another agent.  Anyway, the talk went well, considering I don’t speak that much Spanish and the builder doesn’t speak English.  At this stage it is not uncommon for the builder to run out of money, and with the price of every building material soaring, I was getting concerned.  But he showed me his figures and made a timeline plan as I requested, and it all makes sense . . . I hope.  So, now we’re looking at finishing in June. 

Unfortunately, today, we  had one of those “moments” . . . last night I woke up at 4 AM to trek to the john and suddenly remembered, “Did I check the level of the slate floor on the entrance?”  I want to be able to hose off the porch, garage, and terrace and have the water quickly drain away which requires a minimal slant . . . away from the house.  The guy who is doing my tile is doing a fantastic job!  I have never seen anyone so precise!  That gave me a pang of fear . . . what if he is precisely installing the exterior slate level?  So early this morning I was up at the house with the level . . . and all this progress to the right . . . is now torn up.  I am sorry, but I told everyone bidding on the job that I would be a stickler about this, and other things, and if they weren’t interested, not to bid.  The contractor agreed, and it was just a slip up.  But a slip up that will probably add another two weeks . . .

Welcome to Panama!

Having just returned from the third of three 10-day Southern Caribbean cruises I’m doing with Holland America on the VOLENDAM, the highlight of which is the Panama Canal, I have some observations about Panama and tourism, from a tourist’s view.  The 10-day Southern Caribbean cruise is round trip from Fort Lauderdale and visits Holland America’s magnificent Half Moon Cay (actually Little San Salvador in the Bahamas), Aruba, Curacao, Panama and Costa Rica.  It is so popular that this fall the larger ZUIDERDAM will take over the program. 

Half Moon Cay is the kind of port cruise lines and guests love: the cruise line controls everything.  It is a Disneyesque creation of the ideal beach resort with bar staff, food and bands brought off the ship.  Everything is spotless, tours and activities are controlled by the ship.  Folks love it.

People also like Aruba, not sure why, but they do.  I guess I remember when Aruba was a sleepy little island with one or two beach hotels and a few tiny, little shops with Dutch cheese and Delft.  Now it’s this huge, in my estimation kind of junky, town that screams “Just give us your money and leave!”   All the usual suspects are there - Diamonds International, Columbia Emeralds, Little Switzerland, yada yada.  I’m not a diamond shopper but bought a pair of Crocs for $40 - same shoes $35 at Miami Airport and $25 in Panama City.  Oh well.

Curacao has some of the same “Duty Free” shops but tucked away in a UNESCO village setting.  Over the years I’ve watched as many of the old Dutch buildings from slavery days have been lovingly restored and new buildings have adhered to the the same architectual style.  It’s a clean, cute, and historically significant island that is proud of its diverse heritage.   It’s an easy place to explore on foot at the Kura Hollanda museum about the slave trade is beautifully presented and a must stop.

Then we hit Panama.  The Canal is THE highlight!  At 5:30AM people are up on deck in the darkness as we enter the breakwater.  Around 6:30-7:00AM the ship enters Gatun Locks.  This is why people came and they love it!  The ship enters Gatun Lake where it disembarks about half of the passengers.  Around 800 people are tendered to shore where they board buses for various shore excursions, while the rest of the passengers choose to remain on board and return through Gatun Locks to Colon.

Observations:

• Compared to other ports of call the primary shore excursion operators seem disorganized.  The buses are definitely second rate, although certainly better than buses locals use.  The guides generally have heavy accents and speak English in rapid-fire-Spanish-style so the guests, many of whom are older, can’t understand. 
• The roads in and around Colon are hell.  The main road is filthy, under construction, and jammed with traffic.  It’s not unusual for guests to spend 1.5-2 hours on the bus each way to see anything.  Incredibly bus drivers sometimes don’t know where they are going or take what they consider short cuts over incredibly bumpy roads.  The impression many guests have when they come back to the ship is how filthy Panama is, with all the garbage and trash along the Colon area roads.
• Coming back to meet the ship in Colon, either at Cristobal Pier or Colon 2000, they drive through some of the most impoverished parts of Colon.  They have already been warned that it is not safe for them to leave the port areas in Colon.  They see what is perceived to be a third world city. 
• Colon 2000, which Holland America usually uses, is a laugh.  Presumably a project of Carnival, it consists of a few second rate shops and lots of empty store fronts.  The high spot is a Super 99 supermarket.  Cristobal is an old pier that has nicely been redone with shops and a few eating and drinking spots.  The high point is a huge selection of Kuna and Embera crafts being sold by Indians themselves.

Then comes Costa Rica which, aside from the Canal itself, is the highlight for most cruise passengers.  The shore ex people love Costa Rica because Costa Rica gets tourism!  Now I grant you, tourism is the primary business of Costa Rica, while in Panama it’s just a tiny blip on the radar.  The tourist infrastructure is well-developed with clean, modern attractions designed to meet the needs of tourists including the newest buses with PA systems that actually work, educated and licensed guides that are knowledgeable and speak understandable English, and little things tourists like such as bathrooms.  The Costa Rican roads, at least around Puerto Limon - not to be confused with roads in the rest of the country - are new and smooth, and the roadways are clean and not strewn with trash.  (Don’t underestimate the importance of “clean” with American tourists.  It doesn’t have to be wealthy, just clean.  Cleanliness is equated with personal and national pride.)

So when the ship sails from Costa Rica, and guests talk about returning indepenently, guess which country they talk about coming back to visit in depth?  Costa Rica of course!  Panama is a fond memory of the Canal itself, but when they talk about the rest of what they’ve seen in Panama it is about the filth and the horrible road to Colon.  Never mind that Colon is in many ways the “armpit” of Panama and that most of the country is much, much different.  All the negatives about Colon are what is the lasting impression.

The US leads the world in the percentage of it’s population locked away in prison! 

Shocking, but true . . .

The US has a higher percentage of it’s popultion in prison than China, Iraq, Iran, Russia or any other “oppressive” regime that may come to mind!  1% of the US population is in prison - higher than any other country!  Obviously this is good business for judges, court personnel, lawyers, prison builders and prison guards . . . but at what cost?  $49 Billion a year to be exact!

And don’t you feel safer?  No wonder going back to the US feels like going to a police state. 

According to a recently released report by The Pew Center on The States,

“The United States imprisons more people than any country in the world,” the report said. Using updated state-by-state data, it said more than 2.3 million adults were held in U.S. prisons or jails at the start of 2008 — or one of every 99.1 adults out of a total population of some 230 million adults.

The numbers put the U.S. far ahead of more populous China, which it said has 1.5 million people behind bars, and Russia, which has 890,000 inmates. The Pew report cited January statistics from the “World Prison Brief” released by the International Center for Prison Studies at London’s King’s College.

It also said the U.S. — with 750 inmates per 100,000 people — “is the global leader in the rate at which it incarcerates its citizenry, outpacing nations like South Africa and Iran.”

South Africa has 341 per 100,000 citizens, Iran has 222 per 100,000, and China 119, according to the World Prison Brief.

Russia and other former Soviet republics had the highest incarceration rates within Europe. Russia has 628 inmates per 100,000 people, followed by Belarus’s 426 per 100,000, Georgia’s 401 per 100,000 and Ukraine’s 345 per 100,000, according to the World Prison Brief.

Within the U.S., the growing inmate population “is saddling cash-strapped states with soaring costs they can ill afford and failing to have a clear impact either on recidivism or overall crime,” the Pew report said.

The 50 states spent more than $49 billion on corrections last year, up from less than $11 billion 20 years earlier, the report said. The rate of increase for prison costs was six times greater than for higher education spending, it said . . .

The numbers were “especially startling” for some groups, the report said. “While one in 30 men between the ages of 20 and 34 is behind bars, for black males in that age group the figure is one in nine.”

The nationwide figures, as of Jan. 1, include 1,596,127 people in state and federal prisons and 723,131 in local jails — a total 2,319,258 out of almost 230 million U.S. adults.”

The undisputed leader is California, where spending totaled $8.8 billion last year. The report notes that,

“Even when adjusted for inflation, that represents a 216 percent increase over the amount California spent on corrections 20 years earlier.  And last year, the governor signed a bill authorizing another $7.9 billion in spending, through lease revenue bonds, for 53,000 more prison and jail beds.  Texas, with a slightly larger
number of inmates, ranks a distant second in spending, investing roughly $3.3 billion last year.

California vividly symbolizes the financial perils of the state prison business. On top of the perennial political tug-of-war, the state’s whopping corrections budget is shaped by a bevy of court settlements that make predicting and controlling spending tricky. Following successful lawsuits by prisoner plaintiffs, California now is subject to court oversight of inmate medical and dental care, mental health services, its juvenile offenders, and
the treatment of disabled inmates. Even its parole revocation system is controlled by a legal settlement, and thereby subject to judicial orders that influence spending.”

The Pew Report

California is committed to wharehousing “state property” - prisoners who are sentenced to the California system - and doesn’t waste a penny on rehabilitation efforts.  Most of these prisoners will eventually be released into your community and become your neighbors without any effort having been made to rehabilitate, educate or train them in an alternative way of life . . . doesn’t that make you feel even more secure?

Where did we as a nation go wrong? 

Somewhere along the way we’ve lost our way and only a radical change of direction can get us back on the path that our founders envisoned.

It’s your choice in Boquete.

Go to a restaurant that targets “Gringos” with a little gringo ambiance and the lunch special featuring chicken and you can pay $9.   If you are a permanent resident with a “Pensionado” (”retired”) visa you get 25% off, so the $9 lunch is now $6.75. 

Go down the street to a Panamanian restaurant that targets locals and get what I think is just about the best fried chicken I’ve eaten anywhere, Pinto beans, rice and fried bananas and you pay $3.  No discounts.  So I just ate a fantastic lunch for $3!

So when you talk “cost of living” in Panama you have to ask first, do you want to live like a “Gringo” or a Panamanian?

When we first came here we couldn’t find cans of crushed pineapple anywhere.  Then one day it dawned on me: why would anyone want to buy canned pineapple in Panama?  You can buy a huge, fresh, incredibly sweet pineapple for $1, so why would you want to pay $1.25 for a can of crushed pineapple that tastes, well, canned?  If your hooked on prepared and packaged foods you’ll pay more, but if you can learn to use fresh foods and prepare yourself you will not only save money but eat better.

Happy Easter!

Probably the hottest “super church” preacher today is Joel Osteen, founding pastor of Lakewood Church in Houston, Texas, meeting in a former basketball arena seating 30,000! He is the most popular TV preacher and his books are best sellers. His message is simple: “You are special! God loves you and has a wonderful plan for your life, and it’s a plan for your good!”

A lot of traditional church folk and theologians are critical of Osteen’s simple message: the same folks who criticized Norman Vincent Peale and Robert Schuller.

Here is a God who came to live among us, who gave himself for us, who was resurrected to a new life so that we too could be lifted up and resurrected to new lives: wouldn’t you call that God “good”?!? Wouldn’t you think that God wanted the best for you? Do you think it would make any difference to that God who you were, where you were from, what color you were, or what your orientation was, or even if you were at the point of your life where you accepted him? [NB: He accepts you!]

So on this Easter Sunday, let me share Arvella Schuller’s hymn:

Yes, God is good, in earth and sky,
From ocean depth and spreading wood,
Ten thousand voices seem to cry,
“God made us all, and God is good.”

The sun that keeps its trackless way,
And downward pours its golden flood,
Night’s sparkling hosts all seem to say,
In accents clear, that “God is good.”

The merry birds prolong the strain,
Their song with ev’ry spring renewed;
And balmy air, and falling rain,
Each softly whisper, “God is good.”

Yes, “God is good,” all nature says,
By God’s own hand with speech endued;
And we, in louder notes of praise,
Should sing for joy that “God is good.”

As I head back home to Boquete, Chiriqui, Panama . . . after 20 days at sea . . . I thought I’d share with you a collection of “Life At Sea” photos from various cruises . . .  

I frequently contribute to Cruise Critic, a message board for cruise addicts like myself. So for all of your Cruise Critic folks . . . eat your heart out!

I love walking on deck early in the morning.   This was a sunrise in Acapulco taken from the ROTTERDAM.

All you need to complete this picture is a good book and a drink. Taken on the ROTTERDAM trans-Atlantic.

Here’s why you always want a good travel insurance policy: medical evacuation off Morocco. Approximate cost $15,000. Successful. Evacuated guest lived to deal with bill.

Watching the ocean go by aboard MILLENNIUM.

On deck in the Chilean Fjords . . .

Sunset leaving Dubrovnik on MILLENNIUM.

On this Good Friday I’d like you to meet one of my theological and homeletical heroes!  Dr. Tony Campolo is an Italian sociology professor at Eastern College, and also on the staff of a local Afro-American church.  Tony was is an advisor to Bill Clinton and Barak Obama.  He put’s Christianity in contemporary and understandable terms. 

His best . . .

Dr. Tony Campolo tells the story of a little preaching competition that he had with his pastor during services at the church where he attends. Dr. Campolo tells how he preached the perfect sermon, perfect in every way. He had taken the congregation to the heights of glory. And as he sat down beside his pastor, Dr. Campolo patted him on the knee and simply said, “Top that.” The older black pastor looked at him and said, “Boy, watch the master.”

It was a simple sermon, starting softly, building in volume and intensity until the entire congregation was completely involved, repeating the phrases in unison. The sermon went something like this.

It’s Friday. Jesus is arrested in the garden where He was praying. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. The disciples are hiding and Peter’s denying that he knows the Lord. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. Jesus is standing before the high priest of Israel, silent as a lamb before the slaughter. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. Jesus is beaten, mocked, and spit upon. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. Those Roman soldiers are flogging our Lord with a leather scourge that has bits of bones and glass and metal, tearing at his flesh. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. The Son of man stands firm as they press the crown of thorns down into his brow. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. See Him walking to Calvary, the blood dripping from His body. See the cross crashing down on His back as He stumbles beneath the load. It’s Friday; but Sunday’s a coming.

It’s Friday. See those Roman soldiers driving the nails into the feet and hands of my Lord. Hear my Jesus cry, “Father, forgive them.” It’s Friday; but Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. Jesus is hanging on the cross, bloody and dying. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. The sky grows dark, the earth begins to tremble, and He who knew no sin became sin for us. Holy God who will not abide with sin pours out His wrath on that perfect sacrificial lamb who cries out, “My God, My God. Why hast thou forsaken me?” What a horrible cry. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. And at the moment of Jesus’ death, the veil of the Temple that separates sinful man from Holy God was torn from the top to the bottom because Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. Jesus is hanging on the cross, heaven is weeping and hell is partying. But that’s because it’s Friday, and they don’t know it, but Sunday’s a coming.

And on that horrible day 2000 years ago, Jesus the Christ, the Lord of glory, the only begotten Son of God, the only perfect man died on the cross of Calvary. Satan thought that he had won the victory. Surely he had destroyed the Son of God. Finally he had disproved the prophecy God had uttered in the Garden and the one who was to crush his head had been destroyed. But that was Friday.

Now it’s Sunday. And just about dawn on that first day of the week, there was a great earthquake. But that wasn’t the only thing that was shaking because now it’s Sunday. And the angel of the Lord is coming down out of heaven and rolling the stone away from the door of the tomb. Yes, it’s Sunday, and the angel of the Lord is sitting on that stone and the guards posted at the tomb to keep the body from disappearing were shaking in their boots because it’s Sunday, and the lamb that was silent before the slaughter is now the resurrected lion from the tribe of Judah, for He is not here, the angel says. He is risen indeed.

It’s Sunday, and the crucified/resurrected Christ has defeated death, hell, sin and the grave. It’s Sunday. And now everything has changed. It’s the age of grace, God’s grace poured out on all who would look to that crucified lamb of Calvary. Grace freely given to all who would believe that Jesus Christ died on the cross of Calvary was buried and rose again. All because it’s Sunday.

It’s Friday! But Sunday’s a Coming!

Whatever Friday’s you are enduring in your life right now . . . may you know that Sunday’s coming!

If you want to listen to a tape of a Tony Compolo talk, Click here