A few days back we moved our carcasses about and hour and a half down the road to Las Lahas, a small town just up the road from one of Panamas’ best beaches.  We were looking for a week by the sea, or relatively close to it, without need or want.  We’ve been taking care of our own for some time now, I thought it time we acted like tourists for a change.

Poking around on the internet, I found the place where we are now, Paradise Inn.  It promised two pools, A/C, TV, private bath with hot water, breakfast included, and all that a tourist would expect.

We knew before leaving David that Carnival had just ended, so we expected a bit of a mess once we got here, and we weren’t disappointed.  There was trash everywhere, the dismantling had only just begun, and at the Inn, the pools were filthy (and by this I mean absolutely disgusting).

No sooner had we checked in and turned on the A/C, than the power went out and remained out for several hours.  It was the wind, see?  It had knocked out power all over the area.

Without power, the pools remained as they were, and we sat in lounge chairs in the shade listening to children playing in the smaller of the two pools (making it worse), longing for a chance to get in ourselves — but no way.  Ewwww.

It took three days before they had the pools clean enough to get in, compounded by the power going out for hours on day two.  We were told the power was out all the way to David, which we discovered later to not be the case, as it was only out at the Inn.  Main street Las Lahas had power all day — stores, houses, restaurants were all open.

We ate in town that night, at a very good Italian pizza place.  After the day without at the Inn, it was a a pleasure, as well as an act of free market rebellion against the steadily diminishing “included breakfast” they promised every morning, sarcastic service at dinners, and the sheer balls to charge us for bottled water when there was none anywhere to drink the evening before.

If that wasn’t enough, this morning, I found that the “$1 coffee, as much as you want”, had become $1.50 per cup, and when I pointed to it on the menu, was told the menu was old.  Oh, ok…  I went back to our room and brewed our own, again.   Better, hotter, faster.

I like to think I can roll with it, but with no drinkable water, no A/C for hours, no pools to cool off in, and no internet to help pass the time (Cass and I can’t play cards in the wind), and the restaurant playing gouging games, I was now pissed about it.  But for the breakfast for which I’ve already paid, we simply haven’t eaten here since.

I hear the restaurant started charging the 10% tax on everything last night.   Generally, the 10% tax is disregarded away from the large centers.  This is a cash society for the most part, and much of what is made is off the books anyways.  Many others simply left this morning.

This is now the second day without power interruption, we’ve made the beach for a decent bout of sun and surf, and found another fantastic restaurant in the area, as well as met up with friends we made In David who live here in town.

They have these shade covers you can drive under.  You can’t open your doors because of the benches, but to get into a car that isn’t 300 degrees is NICE.

I’m a little too red to hit the beach again today, but Cass is happy by the pool, and I’m happy in the room typing this up with the A/C on.

This is them still filling the pool.  They had to drain the pool on the adjacent property.  I DO NOT recommend staying here.  I don’t like the owners lies, the actions of the restaurant, or the disregard towards what was not delivered.  I can’t imagine this will change, and with many other options in the area, why give it another chance?

We’ll stick it out here for the rest of the week only because I made the tragic mistake of pre-paying.

Edit — this morning I wake up to a generator outside my window at 7:30 AM.  This was taken after I asked them to move it away from out window.  They have to run the laundry from a generator or risk losing power.  They don’t know what a noise shield is, like every camper in Canada does, so it just runs full out on the grass out back.

I suppose most people are out of here in a day or two, so it’s only a minor nuisance, but a week in this place is a thousand cuts.  They have found so many ways to ruin the experience.

Maids walking back and forth in the morning are loud enough to wake you, and if they don’t, the generator they need to do laundry will.

Their sound system is literally an Ipod plugged into an amp, so you hear the “beboops” of text notices etc.. over the system.

Poor design had the power fade in and out more times than I could count last night, making watching the TV a chore, and each time the power goes, the A/C needs to be restarted as well.

The restaurant makes good food, but I don’t want to eat there.  Yesterday morning they wouldn’t even substitute the toast for a little fruit without charge.  (A whole honeydew melon goes for $1 here).

As nice as it looks, this place just sucks, and the pool STILL isn’t clean.  It’s looks ok, but sediment can still be seen floating in the lights at night.   Half-assed everything.

Cass has asked me a few times “Just what is it that you like about Panama?”  I’ll confess, she has me stumped at times.  To live among them is to experience every difference in culture, some of which are downright annoying, and I guess I had always imagined a life here with money, which makes all the difference in the world.

It allows you to have independence from it, or perhaps better put, a fence.  Everyone we meet complains about the Panamanians lack of reliability, tardiness, and complete lack of initiative.  I’ve tried to understand it at a cultural level.  Here, there is no need to plan for seasons, so looking ahead further than the afternoon just isn’t really required.

Also, Panamanians have not been in control of their own destiny since before the Spaniards landed on their shores looking for a way to transport their loot overland back home, which was the precursor to the Canal.  ‘Mericans have had control of this country ever since, as they do all of Central America, whether in name or not.  Argue among yourselves about that.

Sooner or later, you end up looking at a matter of winner and loser, strong and weak, and all that that angle contains, and I find myself thinking, “with exposure to all the worlds cultures and devices since the turn of the centrury, why have you not learned a damned thing about how to do things?”  Why are you still eating the same boring dishes you were 100 years ago?

It’s as though they have all accepted their role as pawns, with the belief of running the show having been beaten out of them over the generations.

I’ll obviously admit that a life down here, at the local standard of living, is decidedly unpleasant.  On the flip side of that, a life down here with the conveniences and I have built at home is a life in paradise.

That’s what I saw.

Edit 2:  This morning there is a guy with a palm sander working on a bed just down the way.  Complete disregard towards paying customers.  He’s been at it for a while now, and it’s 9:15 AM.  Sooooo happy this is our last day here.  Just waiting for Cass to finish her morning readings, then off we go to a place right on the beach.