Departures and Intimidancing Joron Style

A Gathering of Panamanian Pulchritude
My Daughter With her Mother, Grandmother and Aunts

Yesterday was the first day in Panama that was not a complete joy.  I blame my son in law and daughter for that failure.  They had to leave to start their trek back to the polar vortex.  Their departure immediately impacted the fun quotient that will be difficult (but not impossible) to fill.  On the up side there will be a significant drop in the competition for space on the wireless internet connection here.

Saying Goodbye to her Granddad

They chose to fly down to Panama City from David for their flight back to New York today.  The trip to the small airport here was over too quickly but maybe not for them as they were scrunched into the backseat of my brother in law’s pickup truck along with my wife and her sister.  I really didn’t want them to leave but their flight went off without issue and a short time later they were spotting mystery women around the pool of their airport hotel girding their loins for a final night with cousins in Panama City.

Crowded Ride to Airport

The Rest of the Backseat

I Couldn't Convince them of any Second Thoughts

The Departure Committee at David's Airport

Her Mother Didn't Want to Let Go Either

Since they were only in Panama for one week we jammed in a bunch of events which filled up the entire time.  That left all of us a little tired and after they departed we engaged in some serious vegetative time.  I drained the kindle battery again immersed in a sci fi novel while my wife and her family rested.

There was only a minor disruption in the day when a fairly large iguana was spotted headed for the family orange tree.  My wife was soon in hot pursuit throwing rocks and probing with a pole.  Iguanas are not welcome apparently.  I would call the match a draw although my wife did get her licks in.  The iguana was last seen headed expeditiously for safer hunting grounds.

The Elusive Iguana

My wife was very squirrely about what she had planned for the day so I surmised it was something she wasn’t sure I would approve of.  Late in the afternoon she felt it was safe enough to report that we were going out dancing later in the evening.

She knew I wasn’t a huge fan of the idea but since it was obviously very important to her and she’s already gathered a posse of friends to accompany us including two of the fabulous PanaGals, I was helpless to refuse.  We were going to Joron Zepeda which was my wife’s favorite haunt during her high school and college days. 

Inside the Joron

A Joron is a grass covered, side less roof that is popular with the native people of Panama for living quarters.  Joron Zepeda uses three huge versions of this type grass hut connected together with the sides open to the night air covering four different dance floors and a vast expanse of tables.

Our Dancing Destination

I was really intimidated heading in because while I can hold my own on the dance floor with other gringos I was entering the den of some true dancers – Latinos.  My wife sensed I wasn’t keen to expose my lack of the Latin dancing gene and tried to pump me up while lubricating with liberal amounts of Atlas beer.

The Nearest Dance Floor

It didn’t help that when we walked in there was a class of dance students swirling across the floor at a scarily professional level.  It’s not like a lot of American dance floors where you see a bunch of women dancing with each other; here the men dance and take a lot of justifiable pride in it.

Our Table Last Night

It was one of the in for a penny type moments so I abandoned caution and tried to situate nearest the darkest dance floor.  It was kind of tough to blend into the crowd since I was a foot taller than most of the other participants.  Luckily, as with most Panamanian crowds, they were an incredibly welcoming lot and forgave my AngloSaxon approach to their favorite pasttime.  The Atlas kicked in after the first hour and I had a really fun time with the wife on the dance floor. 

Caught in my Pre-Dance Ritual

As is the custom in most of the Latino dance bars I’ve ever been dragged into (I mean attended at the polite invitation of my spouse) the music was ear splitting loud, and it was very dark which precluded virtually any conversation at the table – so we danced a lot. 

We arrived a little after 9pm and qualified as early arrivals.  The real crowd didn’t start showing up until after 11 and there were still people walking in the door when we left a little after 1am. 

The Panamanians always start partying late and they usually don’t finish until the wee hours of the morning, just beating the sun home. My daughter and son in law experienced the same phenomena last night down in Panama City.  Some cousins were supposed to pick them up at the hotel around 5:30pm for dinner so they could get back in time to rest up for their early flight today. 

A Gathering of Cousins Last Night in Panama City

The cousins eventually showed up a little after 9pm and we received a late text that they were also out partying until after 1am.  They didn’t seem to mind too much and the word “tequila” was prominently mentioned as the forgiving element which led to a memorable and fun night with cousins.  As I’ve repeatedly stated – “There’s just something special about cousins!”