Él Albrook Inn. Mi casa.
As I unfurl my limbs this evening, I am a real, live Panamánian.
If I could just lie down on this virtual page and leave my imprint, you would be convinced that I was one of the locals, (bar the moustache...which I
don't have...) You would smell the overpowering smokey taint of barbecued whole chicken, sausage and fried pork, popcorn, petrol fumes, candyfloss, animal droppings, cowboy sweat and beer that has impregnated every pore I own. You would see the flashing scenes of cow-kids and cowgirls desperately trying to lassoo skinny little cows, to the cheers of a Panama hat-wearing, beer swilling and brightly dressed crowd, or catch a glimpse of the ancient and somewhat reserved dancing of the more traditional Panamá. You would hear the massive stereo sounds of the Presidential campaign trail, mixed with salsa, electronic and fairground wheels and screeches, battling to find space in my little head among the hundreds of new Spanish words that are trying to make sense of their new home before falling back out: pollera, tembleques, carimanõla, empanadas, tamales...
This, is the "Féria de la Chorrera" that got into my ears, hair, nose and belly.
But let me start at the beginning.
Today is Saturday. Having spent the week learning to manouvre a true Latin American meeting (they've got a lot to say...regardless whether it's on your agenda to have them say it...and there'll be lots of kissing, teasing, innuendo, sugar and possibly karaoke.) I'm left once again to my own devices, so I took Tony (the loveliest-Taxi-in-the-world)'s suggestion to go the 'feria' in Chorrera - a 10-day festival that takes place at a different time each year, once a year, in a little town about 40 minutes from Panamá.
Tony advised that we'd do well to go early, around 1pm, so with the morning to enjoy, I headed to Via España - the former shopping centre of Panamá prior to the advent of the super malls. Disappointingly, I didn't find much other than the scarily armour-clad and armed guards at every cash machine, so using my postcard map of Panamá, I wandered down to the bayside in the direction of one of the posh multiplaza shopping malls. The bahía de Panamá is being totally renovated, and gives a weird impression - like a glimpse into the future of the town, with the ultramodern Panamá photographed on the huge and smiling billboards backdropped against the 'old' islands and raw landscape.
A Church. (An important one apparently)
Once at the mall, I spent about an hour trying to find a computer adaptor, having lost mine at the hotel yesterday, and finally got directions to "el duo x siete" (which was approximately what I understood...). After asking 3 different people, and going round and round the impossible labyrinthe of floors and escalators, I found myself, and chuckled out loud, in front of the 'Do it Center..."
We then took off with Toneeeee, (who thankfully recognised me. As i waited for him, I suddenly realised that having only ever really seen the back of his head and profile, I wouldn't have known him from Pedro!) and set out across town to La Chorrera. Along the way, we passed Tony's daughter's school, the American bridge that runs into the city and a whole host of new housing development complexes for the increasing number of Panamanians who commute into the city. I also learnt that Tony'd lived in the Chorrera for 37 years and still had grandparents and cousins there....and that I think my Spanish is improving.
We parked outside his friends house and made our way into the gated 'féria'. The féria is housed in like a giant ranch, with stand upon stand of food and huge empty mini-stadiums where Tony informed me, people would pack into later in the day, and party into the small hours, dancing and drinking beer. In between the cafés and food stands, were various attractions, from a zoo, to a botanical type garden, a mock traditional house from the 'intérior' and a huge funfair.
(Left) Toneee! In front of a 'typical' casa from the 'intérior'.
The zoo -with iguanas, parrots, lions, pumas, crocodiles, boars and boas - was a bit sad, though we did get a scene of roaring lions which was pretty impressive. The rest of them looked like they were suffering from depression. And I can't say I blame them.
A monkey...not up to much business, and a leopard who was just sick to death of us all....and his cage.
Tony had nominated himself as Chief Negotiator for all my purchases (which let's face it, can only be a good thing. Sums are bad at the best of times...let alone in a foreign language), so we spent some time looking for hamacs and Panamá hats, before I settled for a lovely red and orange number (hamac...not hat) and a couple of flutes.
Oh, and for the record, while we talking sombreros, Panamá hats are from Equador, not Panamá. And the 'real' Panamá hat is called a 'pintada' and looks like this (..and is a BIG fashion item in Chorrerra!)
We still had an little while before
the lassooing started, so we sat and had a beer and watched massive blocks of ice being unloaded into an ice locker, ready for the evening's onslaught. (Right) Drinking 'Balboa' and looking decidedly more unhappy than I remember being at the time this was taken!
Tony translated some of the local specialities on offer for me - (otherwise known as 'piccada' which I understood were to counter the effects of the free flowing beer..) carimanõla (a fried roll made from ground and boiled Yucca and filled with chopped meat and boiled eggs), empanadas (like little pasties filled with meat, chicken or cheese), and tamales (made from boiled ground corn, with spices, chiken or pork inside, wrapped in a banana leaf and boiled before serving), unfeasibly purple cococunt pieces dipped in syrup, coconut and other fruit mashed into little brown balls, and all sorts of other things with maizena and 'dulce de leche' in. ("Light" tony tells me....yes!) I also tried the famous 'chicheme' - a corn/rice/milk mixture served chilled, which although being appropriately sweet for my liking, felt like I was drinking rice pudding, and I only managed about a third of it...
(Above) Tamales and smoked/fried meaty stuff...
We then moseyed over to the lassooing stand, where we watched some kids (and I'm not kidding, the youngest must have been about six and looked like a
doll on a horse..) try their trained hand at competitive lassooing. Gripping though this was, we got sidetracked in between lost sombreros, random cow-releasage and horses tripping over their lassoos and wandered over to take in some authentic Panamanian dancing. (Well, they call it dancing, it looked more like the dance equivalent of doggy-paddle to me...weeny, weeny little steps round and round in a circle and the occasional arm in the air)- but the costumes
were fab. Very entrancing when the ladies lifted and swirled their patterned skirts.
VIDEO:
One of the more surprising things about La féria was an enormous queue of people, that I'd first assumed was for a very sought after picada stand. Turns out it was a rice distribution line - 3 bags at a time.
After about 3 hours of Féria, we decided to head home, though not without getting the watermelon of my dreams, which had made all the right noises when tapped. (Empty? Full? What are we looking for here? A price?)
Anyway, special thanks to Tony for a great day. Now I'm authentically beat. More tommorrow. And I'll tell you about the canal.
Discovery of the day: Who knew?! Pineapples
don't grow on trees (or in tins..)!
and boy did I impress those Dutch people sitting next to me with my Spanish..... I mumbled quickly and under my breath - and it sounded really convincing, until the waiter loudly asked me to repeat it three times...."une ensalada de casa. Please".)
