We walked down the dirt road in the skin-baking sun, past the palm trees, and the two story palace belonging to the Panamanian professors who work at the University. You have to be rich to own a two story house. They might even have air conditioning. But lets not get ahead of ourselves.
We sat in the shade under the tin roof of the bus stop. There's a water spigot by our feet, to water your dog or yourself I guess.
We could hear the bus coming before we saw it. It rattled and shook around the curve. When the horn beeped we waved and the bus stopped. We could have waved it down at any point on it's route. The bus stop is more of a suggestion than anything.
As the bus stops a man swings out the door. He has a metal coin sorter strapped to his belly. He doesn't seem to care that the bus was moving when he stuck his foot and arm out the door. He greets us as we get on the bus.
Grant nearly has to fold in half. The aisle is only about four feet high and narrow enough that I can feel my hips brushing the seats on either side. We snagged the bench seat at the very back. That was a lucky thing because Grant could stretch his legs out along the aisle. The little girl in front of him kept turning around to stare at the gringo giant.
The bus lurched forward. It jumped and rattled. No air conditioning. The windows closed against the dust. The seats brown and torn. When someone wants to get off, he signals to the driver. The door-man collects his 65 cents and the bus stops. Sometimes it's at a designated bus stop. Sometimes it's in front of the man's house or a shop.
As we rounded a curve the woman in front of us threw a cigarette pack out the window. Cleanliness is not a goal here in Panama. Trash heaps in the gutters and ditches of the city.
When we reached the bus stop in David (Da-veed), MIL gestures to the hive buzzing around us. "This is the center of the universe."
Want to buy a lottery ticket, a coconut, and pair of sun glasses? You can buy it from a street vendor. Gum, candy, soda, clothes, you can buy those from the hole-in-the-wall shops.
We stop to buy some Pipas, otherwise known as fresh coconuts. The seven-year-old boy tries to sell us one for each of us and seems upset that we only ask for two. His father chops the tops of the coconuts with a machete then sticks a couple of straws in it. The fruit is chilled and the liquid inside tastes like watery milk.
We walk a few steps before I raise the camera to take a picture of Grant drinking the coconut milk. I hear a frantic pattering of feet. MIL laughs. When I peek around the edge of the camera I see the little Pipa boy clinging to Grant's leg and smiling.
I take their picture.
That little kid made my day.
I leave you today with a quote from "The Little Prince" by Antoine de Saint-Exupery. "Grown-ups never understand anything for themselves, and it is tiresome for children to be always and forever explaining things to them."
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