I Had a (San) Blas But I Kuna Left Sooner

Hello all!
I managed to have another un-lazy weekend, well it was a little lazy, but lazy in a different way.
So in addition to the 9 provinces I told you about, Panamá also has what I guess is the equivalent of 6 Indian reservations. To get the most of our Panamá experience our little group decided we would visit one of them, so that’s what I did this past weekend. Also I don't have a lot of pictures of anything specific so there will just be random pictures of prettiness throughout.

So we planned to go to Kuna Yala which is where the Kuna Indians live. This is located at the San Blas Islands. I’m still not sure whether we’re supposed to say Kuna Yala or San Blas. San Blas seems to be the tourist-y name for it. I heard both used interchangeably, but locals and tourists alike but it seemed like I was always getting corrected when I used either one.

Unsurprisingly, the student who never comes along for any of these things decided not to come along for this trip either. In a change of pace however, Vanessa was also not coming along. So for the first time we were going to be on our own in terms of having to get by in Spanish.

Neither I nor the other student knew what to expect on the trip, and more importantly, we didn’t know what to pack. I mean, obviously, I knew I needed clothes and bathing suits and my sweet hat.  We were told to bring “food” which is a pretty ambiguous order, especially to someone who doesn’t cook, so all I ended up bringing was ramen noodles, chips, and bottled water. Along with rum, I think the other student brought similar wares.

The drive was… interesting. We got on the road at about 7 in the morning. This was definitely the longest car ride I’ve been on since I’ve been here. I slept for the first half of it as we left the city, but, no worries, I was awake for the part of it that was a nightmare. To get to San Blas we had to drive up a mountain. This road was the twisty-est most difficult road I’ve ever been on. And random parts of the road were just unpaved, for no reason, like it was built that way just to mess with people. It felt like being on a roller coaster that never ended. I thought I was going to throw up the whole time, which was strange because I have a pretty strong stomach. Also the elevation changes were giving me a headache.

Quite.

Thankfully, I did not throw up, though the other kid did. It wasn’t all bad though. There was some excellent music on the way. Also the guy driving the car was gorgeous. I didn’t notice at first, but like I said it was a long ride, so after staring at the back of his head and profile I realized, hey that’s a hottie. Also his right ear lobe was a slightly different color from the rest of him so he was just flawed enough to be perfect.
But the driver wasn’t the only nice scenery on the ride. Everything around was absolutely beautiful. As always I didn’t get a ton of pictures, because of the whole being in a car thing, but believe me it was amazing.

So after what felt like a zillion road checks, one of which I’m pretty sure we bribed someone to get in, we were officially in Kuna Yala territory, and for the first time it really hit me that I was living in a tropical country. The other student and I had to register what we were doing and how long we were staying. Then it was time to say goodbye to our drivers and to land.

If there is one thing I’ve taken from this trip it’s that boats are awesome. I need to learn how to swim so that I can get a boating license and a speedboat as soon as possible. In San Blas there is “an island for every day of the year” so we had to travel by boat from island to island fairly often, and it was awesome every time.

On the boat a woman tried to challenge me to a battle of hat superiority, but I defeated her easily. As a result she and her friends had to stay on another island. The island we ended up at was the Isla Perro or Dog Island. We were greeting by a man named, Blas, who told us we would have to stay in a house instead of camping and hoped that was okay. I’m not sure what kind of crazies he’s used to dealing with that are upset about not having to camp, it was more than alright with me. We were told that the boat would come back at noon to take us to an island for lunch, which would be langosta (lobster).

Our house was this adorable little hut with hammocks and a sand floor. The other student immediately wanted to go and swim, but since I didn’t want to change when I knew the boat would shortly be back, I just hung out in my hammock. This is when I realized the first problem with this trip. It was something we sort of put together at the last minute and no one really told either of us what to be expecting. And while I realized sometime on the drive up that there was not going to be a resort on the island I will still expecting some sort of structured activity. After all every other excursion type thing we’ve done has had some sort of itinerary to it. First you go here, then you do this, then you see this thing. So while I contemplated bring a book, or working on some writing I decided against it figuring I would have no time.

But in reality there was nothing but time, and I had nothing to do. Now most people know I’m a pretty lazy person. And you might think I’d love an opportunity to just do nothing, but actually doing nothing is terrible. Even when I’m lounging about at home I’m doing something. Even if I’m just on my computer. So I had no book, no stories to work on, nothing. I couldn’t even just lay out on the beach because I didn’t have a beach towel.

So I tried just laying in the hammock and doing this “relaxing” thing. I think I was mildly successful. I wanted to get a picture of me laying out in my hammock in my hat but it’s weird to ask someone to take a picture of you relaxing so here’s a picture of my leg instead.

Anyway after that I soon started getting antsy and hungry. It was drawing close to noon and there was no sign of the boat. I mean I had Doritos but no one can actually eat Doritos when you’ve been promised lobster. It just doesn’t happen. The boat did eventually come, kicking off the pattern of the boat arriving exactly 30 minutes after we were told to expect it, for the rest of the trip.

The food was really good even though I had no butter for my lobster and there were no drinks provided.
While we were eating we made friends with our neighbors a little Panamanian family, who we ended up eating with every time there was an eating opportunity. A mom, a dad and too adorable kids. Unfortunately, I’ve already forgotten their names.

After lunch it was back to our island. I went in the water for a bit, but when you can’t really swim, and you aren’t with anyone you know it’s not really all that fun, so it was back to the hut for me. The other student had also noticed the we have nothing to do problem. He had at least brought a book. After sitting around and doing nothing for a while, we decided to make a drinking game using the Uno cards I’d had the good fortune to find earlier that week.

This was pretty fun for a while until we ran out of rum and still had a few hours to the next boat came for dinner time. We were told that the dinner boat would take us to an island where there would be some form of partying and a bar so we were looking forward to it. In the meantime we managed to acquaint ourselves with a group of people camping on the beach. They were our buddies for this trip. They spoke English, had pretty good music, and some sort of electric generator so they could keep it going for as long as they wanted.

Then more waiting, while the other student did whatever it was he did. I took the time to reflect on some things, like how much I hated sand and how I have a small talk problem. I think I’ve mentioned this before, but a lot of the people I encounter here think my Spanish is really bad, and true it’s not great but it’s passable. The reason people think I don’t speak any Spanish is because I don’t say much. I’m not really great at small talk in any language. I never know what to say to strangers and I don’t like talking about myself that much especially with people I don’t know. So I understand what’s going on just fine I just don’t have anything to add. I’m not lost, I’m awkward.

The other two students don’t speak as much Spanish but they always have more to say. They have their favorite topics. One student’s favorite topic is himself. The other one who went with me, invariably turns every conversation into one about sports or politics. Which are two of my least favorite things in the entire world. I mean really, I’m thousands of miles away from home, on an Indian reserve, so forgive me if I wanted to talk about something a bit more interesting then how they raised the taxes again. The weird thing about San Blas, is that despite my lack of insight into which team was going to win the big game, people actually knew that my Spanish was decent so every time they’d come to a block in conversation I’d be asked to translate, so that was kind of cool.

There was less partying at the dinner time island than expected. The way I think it works is that if you’ve got a big enough group of people that want to dance and drink, that will be the atmosphere. But if you got a bunch of people that want to sleep in their tents then people are just going to sleep in their tents. Though on the bright side we were able to buy another bottle of rum.

 Also I ate this thing.

Also I met a friendly Belgian lady. I don’t know any Belgian stereotypes, because I don’t think it’s been in Scandinavia and the World but she was blonde with blue eyes so there’s that. She was staying on a different island but we had to take the same boat. She didn’t speak a lot of Spanish but her English was great. On the ride back there was a drunken Kuna Indian who thought I was Panamanian and made me translate as he attempted to flirt with her in Spanglish.

When we got back to Perro, we met up with the people with the generator and music so we could party with them. For some reason the very, very, drunk Kuna followed us. I think it’s because when he fell into the water I helped him up and this made him think we were friends. I don’t know what this guy is like sober, but when he’s drunk it’s kind of like watching 50 First Dates. Everyone he talked to he would let them know that he was a Kuna and he could speak English and Spanish (though to be honest he wasn’t speaking either well at the moment). Then he would ask whoever he was talking to if they could speak English or Spanish. Then there would be some other random tidbit and then he would start over as if  it had never happened. 
Our beach buddies’ generator started to fail so we lost the music and the light and there wasn’t anything to do for a while but watch him go from person to person repeating his spiel. He spoke to the other student for awhile and once he determined that I was not his wife or his sister it was my turn.
Also just in case you aren’t aware

I look like this

And the other guy looks like this.

Not exactly a family resemblance .

So the drunk Kuna once again told me he was a Kuna who could speak English and Spanish. I told him for the third time which languages I spoke and tried to tell him that we’d already had this conversation. He then proceeded to tell me I was pretty and spill my drink onto my dress. He kept trying to flirt with me, unaware that this had happened. And then in the strangest flirting I’ve ever seen he told me he killed people. I asked him which people he’d killed. He told me he killed his mother. I asked him why, he said, because he didn’t like her. Again, I asked him why, at which point he reset and told me once again he was a Kuna who spoke English and Spanish, so I never unraveled the mystery and just walked away.

Edit: Just for future reference, if you are trying to pick me up, do not tell me you've killed your mom. I'm not into that.

After that I went back to the rest of the group who actually spoke English and confirmed that matar indeed means to kill. One of the guys told me not to worry about it too much that guys like that are always talking shit about killing and drugs and the like because they think that’s what they are supposed to say I guess. Eventually the drunk Kuna wandered off, and magically everything started working again. It turns out they just turned everything off so that he would get bored and leave.

We hung out with those people for the rest of the night just listening to music, drinking and talking (thankfully not entirely about sports and politics). It was a little strange because they were older than us but younger than our parents which made it alright.

This part of the night was really fun. The people were friendly and was able to practice my Spanish. We were even able to get them to play a little bit of a drinking game with us. Also the music was really good. At some point I heard a song I recognized. I was having trouble placing it when all of a sudden it hit me. It was Billy Joel. It might have been in Spanish, but I know Billy Joel when I hear it, and this was clearly Honesty. Unfortunately, I didn’t know how to say cover version in Spanish, so everyone thought I was crazy when I kept saying this is Billy Joel, but I knew I was right. There have been Spanish versions of the song.

Eventually our old friends got tired and looked to be calling it a night so we went back to our hut. Relaxing in a hammock is one thing, sleeping in one is a different beast entirely. It was very uncomfortable, and since we didn’t have blankets I was freezing the whole night. And I kept having to get up to pee. I haven’t mentioned it before but there were two little side by side outhouses on the island and they were both completely disgusting. If it hadn’t been dark I wouldn’t have been able to go at all. Then there was a thunderstorm. Luckily I’m a pretty heavy sleeper so I did fall asleep despite being cold and uncomfortable. It wasn’t a deep sleep so I kept having all these weird dreams, waking up thinking the dream was real then falling asleep again. Most of them were about my cell phone. I’d lost my cell phone sometime on the island so in all of the dreams I’d find my cell phone and when I’d wake up it would still be lost.

In the morning I learned my hut-mate didn’t sleep as well as it kept raining on him. But I did find my phone after all. We thought we were supposed to leave at 10 to go back to the mainland. So when we heard a knock at the door we packed our stuff. But instead it was just the boat for breakfast. For breakfast we had eggs and sausage. We ate with the family as always. We were also told that we wouldn’t go back to the mainland until 3 pm.

I didn’t like this because even though we didn’t pack correctly for this trip and it would have been more fun if we went with a big group, I still had a relatively good impression of the trip. I feared that if we stayed longer that would quickly change. I had about 20 bug bites on each of my legs and they were driving me crazy. I was getting a little dehydrated because drinks were not provided with any of our meals and I didn’t want to buy one because then I’d have to use the bathroom in the day time. I really wanted a shower or at least a chance to wash my hands. I became convinced that if I hadn’t contracted malaria from the bites that I actually was going to get dysentery. As I lay in my hammock I thought of how lame it would be to die of dysentery like I was on the damn Oregon Trail.

 Don't be fooled by the smiling faces, this game is full of sadness.

Then I fell asleep.

When I woke up I had a headache and it was time for the lunch boat. This time we were told to take our things since we wouldn’t be returning to La Isla Perro. I broke down and bought a drink this time and a present for my mom. After lunch it was back to the mainland.

I decided despite the poor planning, I could still have a relatively positive impression. We got back to the mainland, and looked for our drivers. They were nowhere to be found. Of course neither I nor the other student had reception on our phones. We got a local to lend us his phone and from what I could gather we’d have to find another driver in the area. Luckily, our dinner family offered to take us.
The first thing to go wrong was that we got a flat tire on the way out of the reserve. During the at least 20 minutes I stood out in the humid air getting eaten alive by bugs, I decided that if I could kill to get a shower I probably would do it.

I didn’t throw up on the ride up because I’d only eaten a honey bun for breakfast. Now that I’d had a full breakfast and dinner I didn’t trust my stomach. So I told my body to go to sleep for the mountain part, which I’m sure made me seem anti-social. I woke up a few times when I heard the car make weird noises. Then the mother woke me up and asked if I knew what was happening. The car was apparently stalling, so we had to pull over on the crazy mountain road in the middle of nowhere.

This went about as well as you’d expect. The father tried unsuccessfully to get the engine started, as I fed a family of mosquitoes. Then when the car did start it went straight backward into a ditch. The front tire, made this awful squealing noise as he tried to get it out. I’m not even sure how long this went on as I thought it best at this point if I just forgot the concept of time. Eventually, everyone started piling rocks under the tires. This worked, and he was able to get the car started. But since we were on the side of a mountain he wasn’t able to stop, and he kind of drove on without us.

I tried to suppress my rage as we had to hike up the mountainside to catch up to the car, but I don’t know if I did a good job or not.

Why can I only express myself in cats?!

Luckily, I had all that practice from the mountain behind the house. So, we found the car about half a mile (I actually don’t know if this is true as I have no concept of distance) ahead, which was good because a heart attack was probably not good for my dysentery. After this I wasn’t able to fall asleep again, and had to endure the rest of the bumpy ride conscious. Still, I did not throw up and was able to get by with the thought that I would have a nice hot shower when I got home.

After this it wasn’t too bad. We got a little turned around but we made it back to the city. First we went the family’s house to drop of the kids and husband. The mom kept insisting that the house was dirty even though it was huge and gorgeous. Then she dropped us off at the mall. I got a cab home, and the cab driver told me I was pretty but still overcharged me like crazy to get back to my house.

Then I got home, and my host mom told me that the shower was broken so I could not use it. The end.
Anyway, this story was long and terrible, but it’s over now. I’ve still got pretty much no internet in the house. Hopefully, I’ll be able to update again soon. Until next time here’s a picture of some cool graffiti I saw in the city.