"Hippo - Hurricane - Howler"

Snapshots from Sandy 

'Darkness on the Edge of Town'

'Proceed with Caution'

'Stabbed in the Back'

Pint Sized Perplexity - A Photo Essay

Despite its diminutive size –600 miles long by 100 miles wide— Panama packs a punch. Tropical beaches, mountain terrain, and dense jungle; the country ties it all together with a twist of culture and logic all its own.

'Light Up Your Christmas Tree'

Asserting One's Independence 
During the month of November, Panama celebrates two independence days: one from Spain and the other from Colombia.

'Southbound ?'

End of the Road – Yaviza, Darien, Panama

The infamous Darien Gap. The mighty Pan American Highway, stretching form Alaska all the way to the southern tip of Chile suffers a single break in its otherwise unbroken ribbon of black asphalt. Without warning, the highway abruptly ends in the eastern town of Yaviza – terminating at the Chucunaque River and leaving only jungle beyond. Roads do not resume until deep into Colombian territory. 

'More Miles to the Gallon'

License and Registration  

Putting it lightly, traffic laws are lax on the isthmus. Bicycle owners however are required to obtain a license plate to operate their pedal powered pushcarts in Panama.

'Something About an Albatross'

A Drop in the Bucket

In a single month this year, 39 inches of rain fell in the Caribbean Province of Bocas del Toro.

Panama is practically surrounded by water and yet, more than 50% of all Panamanians – close to 90% of all indigenous communities – lack access to clean, reliable drinking water.

Going, Going, Gone.....

Deep, Deep Right Field. 

While Yankee Stadium with its 'short porch' in right field can be considered a home run hitter's dream, the Bocas Town community baseball field could qualify for an air traffic controller's nightmare. Right field extends to become an international landing strip.

PANAMA

COMARCA NGABE BUGLE

Continental Synapse

The crenellated castle walls stood crumbing for centuries. The staccato slap of bare feet against stone and the occasional whack of a soccer ball against the once formidable meter thick walls are the only echo of a by gone era of ramparts and rockets.

Jutting out to sea at the very northwest edge of the African continent, the old city— al medina— of Tangier keeps a watchful gaze on the Atlantic Ocean, Mediterranean Sea and its rocky reflection, the Rock of Gibraltar, a mere ten miles to the north.

The byzantine streets, predating the adjective itself, wind deep into the city center without a thought of an escape. Vendor’s stalls, motorbikes, and pedestrians vie for the precious free space offered in the back alleyways. The city swirls with the scents, spices and sophistication of two colliding continents. The population erupts in a cacophony of Arabic, Berber, French and Spanish. As a crossroads of civilizations, commerce and culture compete to be the champion of conversation.

Mint tea, hot and copious, serves as the elixir of life; keeping those who imbibe upright and active. The call to prayer cuts the commotion to silence with a single Allahu Akbar, reminding the faithful of the celestial traverse of the sun and the presence of a higher authority.

CLIMB ON

The 18 volt pneumatic hammer action drill grinds to a halt.

The rock is too hard for the power tools on hand. The midday tropical sun mercilessly bakes my body, making putty out of my black rubber soled climbing shoes. I hang, tired and scorched, as if on a vertical granite frying pan. My belay partner below is no more fortunate. Suffering the same sun, he holds me in place, waiting for word of what will come next.

Whether it is the bit, the battery or a problem with the motor itself, the outcome is the same: the drill is silent (just another 10 kilos of metal strapped to my harness) much like the rock face has been for millennia.

We are half way through setting the third bolt of a seven bolt route. The first route ever attempted on this mountain – Cerro Mbatovi. Loosely translated from the indigenous Guarani as ‘Balcony of the Gods’ or ‘Window to Heaven,’ Cerro Mbatovi is a solitary rock massif rising abruptly out of the central Paraguayan plains in the Department of Paraguarí. Its rock head caps an apron of subtropical forest. The summit approach requires an arduous bushwhack through jungle underbrush and a hard rock scramble above tree line. Untouched and unclimbed, Cerro Mbatovi offers a rock climber's dream: a wall of first ascents.

Not to be bested, out comes the Petzl Rock Pic and mini sledgehammer. Setting the pic in the half finished hole, the operation is straightforward if brutal: A whack of the hammer followed by a quarter turn of the pic. Hammer drives pic; pic chisels rock. Repeat for forty-five minutes. This bolt will be secured by hand.

Welcome back to rock climbing in Paraguay. A mix of modern technology and old-fashioned rock climbing determination set in the heart of the South American continent.

Two years ago Rock and Ice Magazine (see article http://rockandice.com/news/500-Paraguay-An-Emerging-Scene) relayed the activity of Paraguay’s nascent rock climbing scene to the world. In the interim, climbers Jonathan Bibee and Dale Helm, aided by Mexican climber Victor de Leon and a growing cadre of home-grown talent, have made steady progress.

Successfully bolting two dozen routes in the Cerro Cora climbing area, 60 km to the northwest, in the town of Tobati. The pair has set their sights on Cerro Mbatovi. To say Bibee and Helm have discovered these climbing locales would be unjust. The Paraguayans have known of these rocks for centuries. The two climbers just see them with a new set of eyes: offering the country a new sport and the worldwide climbing community a new climbing destination.

“Ita Jupi”— rock climbing in Guarani— is wide open for exploration, development, conservation, and celebration. Cerro Mbatovi's climbing future remains to be written.

Postcards from Panama

Canal Correspondence

The Panama Canal has cut through the Central American isthmus and connected the Caribbean and Pacific Ocean for a century. This morning a small cadre of dedicated athletes swam through it, biked over it and ran along side it.

In hosting its first ever ‘half ironman’ -a 1.2 mile swim, 59 mile bike, and 13.1 mile run— the City of Panama turned over this iconic venue –a sea level canal framed by the juxtaposition of jungle covered hills and gleaming skyscrapers— to top flight triathletes and endurance amateurs alike.

As cargo ships steamed north toward the Miraflores Locks, swimmers’ arms rose and fell with disciplined cadence in the canal’s current as they entered the Pacific. Transforming themselves into cyclists, the triathletes rode over the Bridge of the Americas –the first bridge to span the canal– for a thirty-mile there and back. Trading wheels once more for pure human locomotion, the triathletes ran the remainder of the race on a ribbon thin causeway constructed from the canal’s excavation.

One Lance Armstrong –seven time winner of the Tour de France and cancer survivor- graced the race with his presence; immediately granting the inaugural competition with prestige and worldwide recognition. With the carriage of a Greek god, Armstrong held the lead until the final moments when a New Zealand competitor bested him.

Panama, home to three million inhabitants stuck to a jungle green landmass shaped like a stick of gum, is stretched by contradiction and cultural complexity. Boasting a $5.25 billion dollar canal amplification project for a waterway that generates millions of dollars in weekly revenue and a highly developed financial sector, Panama still harbors a subsistence farming, lack of potable water poverty rate of ~15%. In addition, expanding American Baby Boomers’ beachfront enclaves now but up against autonomous indigenous regions of the Ngabe Bugle, Kuna Yala, Wounaan and Embera who have managed to maintain their distinctive, centuries old cultural traditions.

Much like the efforts of any triathlete. Investment in expensive, technologically advanced equipment (feather weight shoes, carbon fiber bikes, enlarged canal locks) can only take Panama’s social and economic development so far. It is only the huge human component which makes success achievable: the hours of countless physical training, the extraordinary effort needed to execute community level capacity building programs.

The original fitness guru Jake Lalane is famous for saying: “Train for life as if it were an Olympic event.” Today’s triathletes epitomized this statement. Panama's development efforts should take note. Hosting its first half ironman is a good start, but completing the competition and improving the quality of life of its citizens is a whole different challenge.