Last weekend we attended the Special Assembly Day in the city of Volcan. Volcan is about a 5 hour trip from where we are in Bocas. 10 of us from the English congregation traveled together, including a woman named Hilda who was attending her first assembly ever. We met at 6:00 am at the boat dock to take a rising sun-lit cruise to the main land, and then crammed into a taxi van for the rest of the trip through the hills. Upon arrival in Volcan a local brother took us to our lodging places. All of us were able to stay with brothers and sisters who lovingly opened their homes to us.
The next day was the assembly. This was the pinnacle of the trip. The Volcan Kingdom Hall was filled with missionaries, special pioneers, and need greaters from all different parts of the world. Each person met had a more encouraging experience than the last. And every single one was so sincere and humble despite all of the sacrifices made and hard work they're accomplishing. It was like talking to a living year book. I don't think I've ever before felt more spiritual focus in one small room! There were a little over 100 people in attendance, which completely filled the hall. Men, women, old, young, all different races, many complete strangers warmly embracing one another with the biggest of smiles. Clothed with the perfect bond of union, indeed.
The house we stayed in happened to have a map of Panama hanging on the wall. We were drawn to this like moths to a flame, since oddly there aren't any maps of Panama anywhere in this country! The morning after the assembly, I read the map over breakfast. It's ridiculous to be so close (relatively) to the capital of the country without plans to go visit it! The solution: "Liz! Let's take a bus to Panama City today!!" We only had the clothes on our backs and what we wore to the assembly, but the spontaneous adventure was totally worth the sacrifice of wearing the same underwear for a few days in a row. It's ok Mom, I have roaches in my house, I went 5 days without a shower, and who knows whose poop bubbled out of my shower drain one day when it rained a lot, things take on a different perspective...
After convincing Liz, we were off to David to buy our bus tickets for what we thought was a 5 hour bus ride to Panama City. Our tickets were for the 1:20 pm bus which somehow was lost and didn't arrive until 3:00 pm... finally boarded the bus. Despite the lady in front of me having a "lay in my lap" setting on her chair, the bus was very comfortable. More of a tour bus type than the usual pimped out school busses cruising the streets. After a few hours on the bus we thought we'd ask how much longer till we arrived. The answer "Diez de noche." "What?? 10 at night???" Unfortunately, our translation was correct. We arrived at an airport sized bus depot at 10:00 pm. Where would we sleep? This was at the discrection of the taxi driver who we were hoping could understand our gringa-spanish. He took us to a hostel called La Jungla House. There we were greeted by a very eccentric but incredibly friendly panamanian named Sebastian, who repeatedly reminded us he was the "receptionist". Slumber was sweet.
Pancakes were made for us in the morning, and Sebastian helped create an itinerary for our short stay. Our first destination: Casco Viejo. It's the oldest city on the Pacific coast of the Americas. The historical French/Spanish architecture give this area a very romantic feel. Buildings painted all different colors, orange, pink, blue, green standing side by side with ramshackle balconies overhanging narrow, one way, brick streets. All of this sits on a peninsula that provides a picturesque view of the city's skyline.
Next stop: The Miraflores locks of The Panama Canal. Slow, but impressive. Each lock chamber is 110 feet wide by 1,000 feet long. An average of 52 million gallons of fresh water is used in each transit. The lowest toll to date was paid by Richard Halliburton, who swam the Panama Canal in 1928. He paid only 36 cents. The highest toll paid was $331,200. And yet, the men who run the vehicles that pull these massive ships through the canal are only paid around $3.00/hr.
From there it was back to the bus depot to catch the overnight bus back home which departed at 8:30 pm. The seats on this bus were impossible to recline, which made watching the very large man in front of us savagely trying to force the back of his chair down for roughly 20 minutes, quite hilarious. The man to the left of us had a spanish radio station that cut in and out of static blaring from the speaker of his cell phone, even though he had earphones pushed in his ears. And the lady in front of him sprawled an entire king size sheet set out over the two bus seats she occupied. This was the scene of the motley crew on that bus. It only got better when I was awoken around 2:00 am by a very stern police officer on board checking passports while his drug sniffing Cocker Spaniel checked the cabin below. By 7:00 am we were home sweet home.
Sadly, we'll be leaving this lovely place in just a little over a week. This will be my last rambling blog post. However, Panama has provided a refreshing oasis of simplicity. It's easy to understand why less is more after even just a few short months of life in a country like this. People in this area of the world make the time to enjoy living. They greet every person that passes with a kind "Hola!" and a warm smile. Their lives revolve around relationships with others, not the possesions the have. Most importantly, they hold dear their relationship with God. To hear them express their ardent love for what they've learned is a souvenir miles above the rest.
Although bittersweet, one journey ends only for another to begin!
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