Anya, Guest contributor
Thursday, April 6 2006
Visiting the Old Town, Casco Viejo

Today, Judy and Anya went on a exploration tour by ourselves. After visiting the numerous shopping malls that Panama City has to offer, we felt a little "malled out". Gaby and Sami stayed on the boat to do their schoolwork, while John worked on the rebuilding the transmission for the engine. We are all hoping the engine will be put back together so we can explore the Las Perlas Islands just west and south of Panama City. And most definitely, we wanted to stay out of the way of the Captain!

The "Girl Express", as Gaby has been called. She has a reputation of being the best kid dinghy driver-reliable and competent and courteous to her clients.  She drove us to the dingy dock where we waited for Leslie (s/v Carina) to give her a bag of chestnuts and vegetables that we bought in El Valle and some pants that we bought for her on one of our shopping sprees.

Then, we had the usual haggling with several taxi drivers for the best fare: starting at $4 but ending up to be $2.50, eventually, we drove to the old part of Panama City named Casco Viejo, also known as San Felipe.

Once a neighborhood of doorway drunks worked by beggars in daylight and targeted by pick-pockets after dark, today Casco Viejo is fast up-and-coming area. A stroll under painted wooden balconies, along cobbled stoned streets and pass handsome colonial buildings, provided us with a real glimpse into Panama's yesteryear.  Once this was the city's most affluent neighborhood and the sight of the nation's capital. Much of the architecture has since been neglected and left to fade, however, a transformation is undergoing and Casco Viejo is painstakingly being restored - with excellent results.

Our taxi dropped us off at the far end of the Peninsula near the Instituto Nacional de Cultura, where we were met by Julio. Julio is one of many young men who walk the streets of Casco Viejo, in order to keep the tourists safe, and approaches them with tourist guide services and protection from wandering to the side streets that unfortunately aren't safe.

As we walked up the esplanade (Paseo de las Bóvedas = Promenade of the Vaults) which runs along the top of the sea wall, built by the Spanish to protect the city, Julio explained in rapid Spanish and the occasionally, English, that this walkway was built on top of nine restored dungeons. Although, they now hold an art gallery and a French restaurant-jazz bar, you can still see the dungeon's original stonework.  

Below the wall, at the tip of the point, is the Plaza de Francia. Large stone tablets and statues tell the story (in Spanish) of the French role in the construction of the canal. The plaza is dedicated to the memory of the 22,000 workers, most of them from France, Guadeloupe and Martinique, who died during the first building of the canal. Most were killed by yellow fever or malaria, and among the busts is a monument, is one to the Cuban doctor, Carlos J. Finlay, who discovered that mosquitoes are the carriers of yellow fever. Eventually, his work led to the eradication of the disease in Panama.

Alongside the walkway many Panamanians can be found selling molas, paintings and even license plates from Panama.

We walked to the Museo de Arte Religioso Colonial beside the ruins of the Iglesia y Convento de Santo Domingo. Just inside the doorway of the ruins is the Arco Chato, a large arch that has stood for centuries, unsupported; a feat of architectural and engineering brilliance. The arch reportedly played a key role in the selection of Panama over the Nicaragua as the site for the second building of the canal when the American's arrived in Panama.  The arch's survival was taken as proof that the area was not subject to earthquakes, unlike the conditions in Nicaragua.

As we turned north our breath was taken away by the rendered frontages and flower-filled ironwork. It is easy to see why this area is quickly turning into one of the country's most fashionable pieces of real estate and is in strong demand by many of Panama's elite. Although a challenge, Architectural renovations of the buildings continue to progess as they lie wall to wall with derelict shanties.

Next stop was the Iglesia de San Francisco which overlooks the Parque Bolívar. It was here, in a schoolhouse, that activist Simon Bolívar attempted to form a Latin American union of nations in 1826. His struggle to liberate Latin America from the Spanish achieved success in Ecuador, Peru, Colombia, Bolivia, Venezuela and Panama. Today his heroic endeavors have been rewarded by iconic status and he is honored throughout Latin America.

The nearby presidential palace, Palacio de las Garzas is a fine white building with a grand pillared entrance -with columns inlaid with mother of pearl- and recessed foyer. The name means Palace of the Herons after the white birds that parade in the doorway below the presidential quarters on the upper floor. The building was built in 1673 and renovated in 1922.

In the street next to the presidential palace we found houses in desperate need of an extreme make-over, a huge contrast to the wealth of the palace. Anya was delighted to see that all presidential parking spaces were taken by big Nissan SUV's. After taking several pictures (Anya remarking that this was a great new campaign option for her to use back home!)

In the heart of Casco Viejo lies the Plaza de la Independencia. It was here that the Panamanian declaration of independence from Colombia was made on November 3, 1903 and several fine historic and beautifully restored buildings overlook this historic plaza.  We watched as a protest was underway by those who worked for the canal and who sought increased compensation so they could protect the canal from terrorist.
The Museo del Canal Interoceánico is housed in the headquarters of the doomed French Canal project near to the faded Hotel Central and the Palacio Municipal (City Hall). Our guide did not permit us to enter, we assumed because it would have delayed him.  So, this is a place we will come back to at a future time.

The Iglesia de San José is home to the famous Golden Altar, the only item successfully salvaged after Henry Morgan and his men ransacked the city in 1671. Morgan missed the fabled Golden Altar after local churchmen painted it black to avoid detection and when questioned about its whereabouts the local priest convinced Morgan that the altar before him was made of wood, not gold. Morgan demanded to know what had happened to the 'other altar' and was told that an earlier pirate had beaten him to it. The priest even managed to get the privateer to donate money to fund a replacement altar, causing Morgan to remark: "I don't know why, but I think you are more of a pirate than I am".
I guess, that the church rector is still very cautious about pirates, as it was impossible to find candles to burn in this beautiful church. When we finally asked a lady that seemed to work there, she beckoned us to follow and low and behold: a door opened and the biggest candle selection unfolded to us. We both bought a candle and lit it at the altar, thus combining Catholic candles, Dutch prayer and Buddhist gestures in this wonderful church, wishing that the ones that we hold dear will be safe, healthy and happy.

After this, Julio pointed out his favorite restaurant to us.   We bid him goodbye. Sent him with a good tip and then joined the locals at a café, Restaurante Cedro's.

At Restaurante Cedro's, we enjoyed a plate of rice, meatballs, baked bananas and mixed vegetables whilst sharing many stories of our experiences and expectations in life, love and our dreams for the years to come. This tranquil place with extreme friendly service and the joy of being able to catch up on years of conversation led us to stay here for three hours. During this time the streets were washed clean with fresh rain, slowly marking the start of the rainy season.

We took a taxi back to Playita Amador where we stopped at the restaurant, Mi Ranchito, for a cool glass of white wine, fresh fruit juice, seasoned clams and shrimp ceviche. Ceviche is shrimp cooked by marinating it in lime juice and spring onions. Passing by us were Andrew and Marianne (s/v Soy Libre), who were out shopping for sunglasses for Andy since the sea giveth and taketh…

We hailed the Girl Express who picked us up at the dinghy dock and returned us safely to our home on s/v Encanto.  After a bit, we settled in for yet another night of 24 Hours. Yes, we have to admit it: we are hooked on this action packed suspense TV series!

Instead of spending our evenings star-gazing or quietly reading a book, we are clinching our fist, screaming at the TV monitor and jumping up in surprise, as we keep pace with four seasons of the action on 24 Hours. We have fallen into a pattern of watching 24 Hours, until one of us 'blinks' too long and misses a minute, a crucial minute in the series. In a mere 24 Hours, life is never be dull or boring, unless you live your life without questioning life itself.  So, live your life to the fullest, "NOW".

Still… no other way to end another wonderful day in paradise, than using Uncle Richard's (one of the Dutch uncles of Sami and Gaby) famous words: "Another exhausting day in Paradise".

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