Camp Panama
Sprawled like sunbathing muses on a rock in the middle of the river is when I felt it. The nostalgia slapped me across the face. There was something in the clashing of hot & cold that transported me back.
To the early summers my brother and I spent filling up Home Depot buckets to dunk our heads in.
To the days leading up to the end of the school year with awards ceremonies, ice cream socials, and field days on the dewy grass.
To camp drop-offs when our Tevas would hit the ground running before mom even parked.
Each of these moments as carefree as the next, engulfed in childlike anticipation. Unaffected by work/ money/ rent/ relationships/ taking Ubers alone at night.
When was the last time I had been that untroubled?
River gang
Coming to this realization, and getting to that rock in the middle of the river in particular, had been quite the process. Macano, Panama is approximately a flight, a seven hour layover, another flight, an overnight bus, a local bus, a short walk, and a horseback ride away from the hustle of Charleston. Seeing Courtney after 24+ hours of travel (and over a year apart) was the closest I’ll ever get to experiencing an Ellen-worthy military reunion.
In Macano, it was summer break of sorts. The kids were out of school. It was hotter than hell. The preferred entertainment for dog days? Going to the river. I strapped on my Chacos and away we went, picking up a few of Courtney’s students— and a vagrant pup— along the way.
It’s impossible to go unnoticed while walking down the street for anyone, let alone two tall gringas. Each neighbor sweeping her porch or playing cards in his yard will invite you in for a conversation, sometimes even a snack or a gift. Any route that should take 15 minutes will inevitably take 45. Our motley crew made its way down to the running water, pit-stopping to say ‘hola’ a few times.
Summer fun
The river was a kid’s paradise. No parents. Cliff jumping. Rock skipping. Every friend together in one place. I took my camera out to document and befriended the tiniest river rat, Titi. She took my camera in her hands and no sooner than she could click the shutter button was there an assembly line of children in front of us, all waiting for their shot. One by one they captured the tranquil youth on our faces.
My second night in town, the Rummy night, is one of my favorite memories from the whole trip. Courtney’s friend Alfredo stopped by to drop off a gift while we made dinner. As it turned out, he decided we needed an entire sack of oranges. I looked behind me at the other grocery bags of gifted oranges scattered around the kitchen as Alfredo stood in the doorway. Jokingly, I asked Courtney where the vodka was for screwdrivers. Alfredo returned from the tienda ten minutes later with a bottle of Seco-- Panama’s national sugarcane rum. We took turns squeezing oranges as Alfredo peeled the skins with his pocket knife.
Screwdriver prep
My Spanish is… poor. Alfredo’s knowledge of English isn’t much better. The three of us sat around drinking Panamanian screwdrivers while Alfredo and Courtney taught me how to play Rummy 500. There was a lot of translating. We peeked at each other’s cards. We kept score in chalk on the concrete walls. At one point, I declared in English that Alfredo had the card I needed just as he announced in Spanish that he had the card I needed. Courtney spiraled into laughter. Just a couple of friends having some quality fun and ⅔ of us could barely communicate with one another.
Our second river day was spent at the much more leisurely river. Because the only thing better than one river is multiple rivers to choose from. We claimed our rock and queued up Courtney’s “of all time” playlist. A neighbor carved us oranges while another crossed the river on horseback.
Muse
It was here that the heat of the equator sun trickling through the tree canopy coupled by the chill of the water beneath me stopped me in my tracks. Slow. Refreshing. Calm. I was back in the woods of Genesee Valley about to take on the Big Zip. I was swimming in the lake looking out to Mt. Katahdin. I was sliding down into the faded plastic Little Tikes pool on Cranberry Road. This feeling was familiar but distant, something I had not recognized in a considerable bit of time.
Panama felt like camp to me. It was the fresh breath of summer that I had not experienced since childhood. I swam in the river with nothing else to prioritize. I made new friends. I played card games and volleyball. I rode horseback. I embraced the ease whole heartedly without even noticing it was a conscious choice to be made.
The irony of this picture; featured in B&W because I was so badly sunburnt. Not kind to myself…
Xx Adventure Well
