So it seems that we are back to me and my strange expectations of 1st world norms in a 3rd world country. Why should I expect to be allowed off the subway train before 17 local Panamanian dudes barge their way into the carriage. Fortunately I'm a lot bigger than they are, Forrest - 1, 17 Panamian dudes - 0.
Why should I expect that the insane cab drivers will yield to pedestrians at a crossing zone? Cab - 1, Forrest - 0.
As much as possible I tend to eat where the locals eat. Now that I can fluently order Chicken, Rice and Beer in Spanish with no hesitation it makes financial sense to shun the overpriced tourist eating establishments. Whilst surreptitiously scoping out the locals and where they took lunch I happened upon a great little hole in the wall serving a variety of basic dishes. Me and my 1st world expectations again, enter hole in the wall, calmly order from the medley of available fare, pay and leisurely consume said meal accompanied with a fitting beverage....
Little did I know, part of the charm of this place was the fact that it was run by an insane Spanish/Chinese dude whose volume control was firmly lodged at 11. Walking through the door I was greeted with - "BUENOS DIAS", waves of sound reverberating off the walls and the other diners at their tables, all with wry smiles on their faces upon seeing me flinch at the wall of sound. "Pollo Asado y papas fritas y cerveza Atlas por favor" I mumble back at him. "SIETE" he screams back at me, my eardrums now starting to bleed as a result of the Motörhead sound levels being blasted at me. "Gracias" I mumble back , pay the 7 dollars and seek out the table furthest from him.
Day 2 and now I know what to expect from the crazy dude. "BUENOS DIAS" he yells at me. "BUENOS DIAS, POLLO ASADO Y PAPAS FRITAS" I scream back at him. "BUENO" he yells and smiles at me, I'm now one of the locals, job done, starting to integrate! I digress.....
Spanish school - Casco Antiguo Spanish School, just around the corner from where I'm staying. Great posters in the hostel, great street signage, good directions, efficient e-mail reservation responses, all in all a top notch initial experience, obviously fueling my naïve 1st world expectations again. You simply can't make this stuff up, it's great. So off I head for my first day at school, good little boy with my notebook, notes from the lessons in Atlanta, pens and a clean shirt. I even shaved!!
Now if anyone has ever been to the site of "Tuol Sleng" genocide museum in Phnom Penh, Cambodia, you will get where I'm coming from. I follow the signs and get to this insanely dilapidated building with thick iron bars across the Windows, a huge double iron gate at what looks to be the entrance. No buzzer or visible way to get inside, graffiti strewn walls, some form of garden can be seen through the bars(medicinal herbs I would assume....), deathly quiet on a Saturday morning at 8:00am. The building looks like a deserted, severely haunted old institution of some sorts. Is THIS where I will be learning Spanish?
After hanging around for 10 minutes I get the hump and wander off to view the building from across the small bay. From a distance it looks just as bad as close up, as if it has been condemned to crumble into the sea at it's earliest convenience.
But wait, I see someone moving on a balcony! I head back and the large iron gate is open, I'm sure that the Spanish graffiti says something like "All ye who enter abandon hope" but I'm not sure, we haven't covered that section yet in the lessons. Heading inside I follow the signs to the school through graffiti plastered stairwells and corridors, stairs half broken, strange plants growing everywhere and a definite sense of gentle decay.
This place actually was a school and is now slated for demolition, it kind of makes sense when you think about it. A Spanish language school in an old school, regardless of the structural integrity or rather, lack thereof! Anyway, after creeping along like a naughty school kid late for his first day at school I finally find the converted classroom which is slated to be my cell, I mean classroom for 20 hours over the next week. What a great bunch of people, from the receptionist to the office manager to the strict teacher who refuses to speak ANY English to me, wonderfully friendly, happy and open. Yes, they agree the building is old, yes they know it will be demolished, no we won't be inside when it all comes down.
After 4 hours of fun I head out only to find the gate locked, oh boy, here we go! As the Eagles say, "You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave...". A very large man shuffles out of nowhere, wearing nothing but a stained white vest and tatty old trousers, gives me a toothless grin, slides a little lever and I'm free!
I can't wait to do it all again today......
Hasta Pronto!
Why should I expect that the insane cab drivers will yield to pedestrians at a crossing zone? Cab - 1, Forrest - 0.
As much as possible I tend to eat where the locals eat. Now that I can fluently order Chicken, Rice and Beer in Spanish with no hesitation it makes financial sense to shun the overpriced tourist eating establishments. Whilst surreptitiously scoping out the locals and where they took lunch I happened upon a great little hole in the wall serving a variety of basic dishes. Me and my 1st world expectations again, enter hole in the wall, calmly order from the medley of available fare, pay and leisurely consume said meal accompanied with a fitting beverage....
Little did I know, part of the charm of this place was the fact that it was run by an insane Spanish/Chinese dude whose volume control was firmly lodged at 11. Walking through the door I was greeted with - "BUENOS DIAS", waves of sound reverberating off the walls and the other diners at their tables, all with wry smiles on their faces upon seeing me flinch at the wall of sound. "Pollo Asado y papas fritas y cerveza Atlas por favor" I mumble back at him. "SIETE" he screams back at me, my eardrums now starting to bleed as a result of the Motörhead sound levels being blasted at me. "Gracias" I mumble back , pay the 7 dollars and seek out the table furthest from him.
Day 2 and now I know what to expect from the crazy dude. "BUENOS DIAS" he yells at me. "BUENOS DIAS, POLLO ASADO Y PAPAS FRITAS" I scream back at him. "BUENO" he yells and smiles at me, I'm now one of the locals, job done, starting to integrate! I digress.....
Spanish school - Casco Antiguo Spanish School, just around the corner from where I'm staying. Great posters in the hostel, great street signage, good directions, efficient e-mail reservation responses, all in all a top notch initial experience, obviously fueling my naïve 1st world expectations again. You simply can't make this stuff up, it's great. So off I head for my first day at school, good little boy with my notebook, notes from the lessons in Atlanta, pens and a clean shirt. I even shaved!!
Now if anyone has ever been to the site of "Tuol Sleng" genocide museum in Phnom Penh, Cambodia, you will get where I'm coming from. I follow the signs and get to this insanely dilapidated building with thick iron bars across the Windows, a huge double iron gate at what looks to be the entrance. No buzzer or visible way to get inside, graffiti strewn walls, some form of garden can be seen through the bars(medicinal herbs I would assume....), deathly quiet on a Saturday morning at 8:00am. The building looks like a deserted, severely haunted old institution of some sorts. Is THIS where I will be learning Spanish?
After hanging around for 10 minutes I get the hump and wander off to view the building from across the small bay. From a distance it looks just as bad as close up, as if it has been condemned to crumble into the sea at it's earliest convenience.
But wait, I see someone moving on a balcony! I head back and the large iron gate is open, I'm sure that the Spanish graffiti says something like "All ye who enter abandon hope" but I'm not sure, we haven't covered that section yet in the lessons. Heading inside I follow the signs to the school through graffiti plastered stairwells and corridors, stairs half broken, strange plants growing everywhere and a definite sense of gentle decay.
This place actually was a school and is now slated for demolition, it kind of makes sense when you think about it. A Spanish language school in an old school, regardless of the structural integrity or rather, lack thereof! Anyway, after creeping along like a naughty school kid late for his first day at school I finally find the converted classroom which is slated to be my cell, I mean classroom for 20 hours over the next week. What a great bunch of people, from the receptionist to the office manager to the strict teacher who refuses to speak ANY English to me, wonderfully friendly, happy and open. Yes, they agree the building is old, yes they know it will be demolished, no we won't be inside when it all comes down.
After 4 hours of fun I head out only to find the gate locked, oh boy, here we go! As the Eagles say, "You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave...". A very large man shuffles out of nowhere, wearing nothing but a stained white vest and tatty old trousers, gives me a toothless grin, slides a little lever and I'm free!
I can't wait to do it all again today......
Hasta Pronto!
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