things heard on our battan-like death march to carnaval.
este carnaval presidente no sirve. este carnaval es para touristas no panamanians. carnaval queda mejor en calidonia or via espania. nunca nunca en historia un fila como asi.
(if you don’t read spanish i’ll give you the short version. people were pissed. they believe carnaval was better in via espania or calidonia.)
although alex and i live just around the corner in el cangrejo, it feels like we hike several miles out of our way to get to the panama city carnaval entrance on transistmica. for our efforts we’re rewarded with six long lines. there have been reports of gang activity, so police need to search everyone who enters.
i purchase a bottle of frozen water for $.50 and cue up with all the men. alex goes to the woman’s line on the far left. she motions for me to watch my pockets. i yell “no te preocupe - esoty limpio. “that gets a laugh from the lads behind me. Alex tells me later there was a pickpocket in line. he boldly snatched a wallet in front of all these machine gun wielding cops, and was quickly wrestled to the ground.
it takes about 30 more minutes in the hot sun to get through. except for the cop who grabs my crotch during his search, the crowd is mostly chill. i’m one of a handful of light skinned faces. but i don’t feel out of place. i get a thumbs up from a large black man. “much respect,” he says. i don’t know where this is going, so i just give him an enigmatic smile and move on.
the parade’s the usual affair; big, odd-looking floats having little to do with life in panama (a bluish polar bear for example), smoking hot carnaval queens and princesses, and really cool tribal drummers with straw hats, umbrellas, and colorful shirts. there’s even a group that seems to be brandishing molotov cocktails.
i could use a cocktail about now. i settle on a cold balboa instead. i decide i like the tribal drummers best. and i briefly wonder what it would be like to march with them for the day. then i remember i’m almost 50, and already tired from watching them dance frenetically in the hot panamanian sun.
i would take a few shots, but my cameras dead. yet another reason i’m not living the glamorous life of a journalist. if you’ve watched any of the brazilian carnaval on the telly, you might think panama’s carnaval is the same deal. its not. carnaval in panama’s more like a block party for the city; music, cold beer, fried meats of unknown origin, women and men cruising for sex.
we’ve already missed the culecos. earlier in the day tanker trucks lined up on the transistmica. in many countries police use water cannons to drive away the criminal element. in panama it’s an excuse to hang out, get drunk and wet. trucks soak the crowd with large hoses. music is played several decibels too loud. hearing damage and crotch rot are a virtual certainty.
when we finally arrive home i discover los plumas negras are to play tonight. i love these guys. they play musica tipica. in panama that’s an accordion accompanied by cat-like screeching. for some strange reason it sounds really good. but maybe that’s because everyone’s drunk by then.
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i had a brief tour through the carnaval infested streets of ocu on sunday. reminds me of an octoberfest in the the states, except that they throw water here instead of beer. mostly hormone roiled adolescents up to age 30 getting drunk and hosed (by tanker trucks) while they dance and cruise. lots of instances of 2 girls holding up one drunk guy and trying to walk him to a safe place to pass out. the girls just look hotter and sexier than usual when they get soaked and drunk. all pretty, delgada and rotating the hips seductively. too bad they all wear bras here…the wet t-shirt possibilities were infinite…
Comment by marcopolo — February 20, 2007 @ 10:08 pm
recuerdo carnaval en Bocas. Fue lo mismo como PC, pero menos personas. La vista de tres buceadores caminaron entre la muchedumbre solamente aumenta a la rareza. And, yeah, it’s a young folks game. Sunstroke seems to hit we (ahem) older gentlemen much more quickly, eh?
Comment by lakesdiver — February 21, 2007 @ 9:07 am
ooh, “the wet t-shirt possibilities were infinite,” that would have made for a good title marco.
lakesdiver - i have a friend who lives in bocas. she loves carnival there. i tried to go one year but the hotels were all booked up.
yeah, it’s really shocking to grow old. lol i never saw it coming. i’ve got the mind of a 17 yr old, and the body of a 50 yr old.
you guys ever find any cool stuff when you’re diving in bocas? you know, pirate booty, lead coffins, or old, half-filled rum bottles?
Comment by cojito — February 21, 2007 @ 12:40 pm
The only booty to be found had to do with women and the only half-filled rum bottles were in the process of being emptied by us. The cool stuff was just little critters under the sea. Not spectacular, high-voltage diving, but I found it to be a very relaxing time. Y entiendo sobre la mente/cuerpo dicotomÃa.
Comment by lakesdiver — February 21, 2007 @ 2:42 pm
Any of you old guys into metal detectors? You know… combing the beaches to find the lost treasure (rolexes and cartier earings) of the touristas, buried beneath pounds of sand?
Comment by Raul — February 22, 2007 @ 7:42 pm
cojito — if you ever see me on the beach with a metal detector please shoot me. i’ll wear a clown outfit if that makes it easier for you.
look, raul, i’ll never be that old. until panama runs out of pretty girls the only thing i’ll be doing on the beach is humping.
when panama runs out of pretty girls, i’ll go to colombia and shoot clowns.
Comment by marcopolo — February 22, 2007 @ 8:31 pm
panama will never run out of pretty girls. but it might be fun to hunt for pirate gold. i hear it turns up every now and again.
Comment by cojito — February 23, 2007 @ 1:25 am
i, too, have heard that. I’ve got an u/w rig. Maybe I oughta’ bring that to bocas. to hell with the beach. i’ll wear a clown wetsuit and troll around the bars on the waterfront. If not pirate’s gold, perhaps there’d be drunkard’s change.
Comment by lakesdiver — February 23, 2007 @ 7:52 am
forget the clown wet suit. after a couple rums, cojito will have you in the crosshairs…
just wear a regular wetsuit with a gold chain around your neck and the girls will fall all over you.
Comment by marcopolo — February 23, 2007 @ 10:39 am
Off to Honduras para bucear. Look forward to reading all I missed in the next week. (and I’m taking my gold chain, too)
Comment by lakesdiver — February 23, 2007 @ 11:50 am
never been there, but i’m guessing the chain will work.
ps. personally i don’t use a chain because they all love my bald head … not!
Comment by marcopolo — February 23, 2007 @ 11:55 am
ps. you can probably wear the clown wet suit there. cojito can’t go to honduras..his picture is in all the post offices. why? i could tell you, but then i’d have to kill you.
..and even if he weren’t wanted there, the hondurans don’t have an ugliness waiver.
Comment by marcopolo — February 23, 2007 @ 11:59 am
Marco, you’re right! Cojito’s photo was on Not Wanted posters all over the county!
Comment by lakesdiver — March 5, 2007 @ 1:16 pm
was it a clear view or was he wearing the groucho glasses?
Comment by marcopolo — March 5, 2007 @ 2:42 pm
hey! somebody write something! i’m getting bored. wish i were back in panama…:(
Hey raul! — what’s this one from?
“driving down your freeways…midnight alleys roam…cops in cars, the topless bars..never saw a woman so alone…so alone…” (it’s not the stones)
Comment by marcopolo — March 29, 2007 @ 10:57 am
christ, i leave the country for a couple of days and panama after hours morphs into ¨name that tune.¨
Comment by cojito — March 29, 2007 @ 12:49 pm
see what happens when you leave your flock unattended? Next we’ll be building a golden calf. get your ass back to panama and resume your full-time job as a usless pervert.
Comment by marcopolo — March 29, 2007 @ 2:45 pm