We laid low yesterday and did very little.  Stan was not feeling so hot and I had stuff to do.  Today, though we were off again.  But first, yes, I am still doing Pilates twice a week.  Class was first thing this morning then we walked to the nail salon and made appointments for mani and pedi tomorrow.  Hiking miles in dirt, mud and dust makes callous covered plow-boy feet and all the healthy food we have here makes hair and nails grow like crazy.  We walked to the salon to make the appointments because we dare not try to talk on the phone in Spanish — oh, my God, that makes me laugh to even imagine it.  Speaking person-to-person is hard enough.

Since we arrived here Stan has been intrigued with a Cerro Ancon, a big green hill overlooking the city that waves a distinctly visible huge Panamanian flag over its realm – it’s lighted up at night.  The hill is the highest point in Panama City.  The top of the hill is an urban jungle reserve where there is animal life and rainforest.  Cerro Ancon is not near the top of the list of interesting things to do in travel guides but we decided to give it a try.  It’s a 20-minute walk from the nearest bus stop through a shady-looking portion of town merely to get to the point where the street begins to head up the hill.  About half-way up the hill is the park’s entrance.  At this point we entered the reserve where the trail begins.  The walk gets really steep here.  The single-lane road is paved so it’s relatively easy walking except for the upwards grade.  The road winds around the hill and offers gorgeous, fantastico, amazing, glorious, wide vistas of the city . . . the high-rise cityscape on the Bay of Panama (which I will never tire of seeing and it’s where we live), Casco Viejo (old town), Isla Flamenco (at the end of the Amador) and the locks of the Panama Canal.  There were stunning, amazing photo ops!!  And the truly amazing thing is most locals and tourists alike miss this spot.

Of course, its history has military roots.  Think about it, what beach or high point in a seaside town does not have military roots???  This hill was important for defense in 1670 when it served as a surveillance site for the Spanish.  Centuries later when the Americans began building the Canal, Cerro Ancon was included in the Canal Zone –5 miles on either side of the canal that was controlled by USA.  The hilltop was the headquarters of USA southern command in the Canal Zone.  Some residential barracks built in about 1935 to house military police still exist.  A few of the buildings have been converted to apartments but some sit idle and are in poor repair.  The view from each is spectacular – a little rehab to the buildings and presto!  A primo location!!!   Although it is overgrown and moss, algae covered, evidence of an underground bunker and its ventilation system is still there.  The road toward the reserve has become a prestigious residential area where beautiful tropical gated homes sit on manicured lawns and overlook locks on the Canal down below.  The premier house is the grand colonial house where governors of Canal Zone resided from 1914 to September 30, 1979 when the zone was returned to Panamanian sovereignty.  Today the immaculately kept, regal colonial home is the residence of the currently serving Panamanian Administrator of the Canal Authority.  As we walked past, six gardeners/care-takers were busy attending to the lawn and every detail to make sure the property was in immaculate condition.  Over 100 years old it looked like something out of Southern Living or Conde Naste.

No attempt will be made here to recap some of the historical facts about the Canal Zone – But I do hope to whet your appetite.  A very interesting but not frequently told story lies here about USA’s political involvement in Panama during and after construction of the Canal.  It is a completely fascinating in that a group of high school students started an initiative to ensure the Panamanian flag would be flown alongside the American flag at their public school, Balboa High School inside the Canal Zone.  One thing led to another.  The initiators are now call martyrs.  Panama celebrated Martyrs Day this past Sunday, January 9.  The story reminds me that USA is not always the face of handsome young men handing out candy bars to hungry children.

Here’s the good part of the day.  We met a group of five young people walking up the hill behind us.  They caught up with us of course.  We chatted for a few minutes.  They took a photo of Stan and me so we didn’t have to do a selfie at a beautiful overlook.  They ALL spoke English but two were from Peru, one from Panama, one from Chile and one from Canada.  Why in the heck is it that kids from all over the world speak English plus their own home language and we only speak English.  I feel like such a dumb bunny! Stan and I tried our Espanol with them.  They were kind. J

They went ahead of us.

At the top we met this beautiful group again.  Don’t quote me on this but I think Ana Paula was from Peru & Canada, one Dani is from Peru and the other Dani is from Panama.  Tall Dani is getting married in June and this was a wedding party for her.  Finally, Uchi who took most of our photos is from Peru.  It was also her 29^th birthday!!!   Feliz cumpleanos a la Uchi!!!  And then there was Francisco from Chile.    Lucky guy, Francisco was the only man in that party and is Uchi’s boyfriend.  We chatted, laughed, and shared info.  We tried our Spanish and they their English.  Oh Lord, they were another beautiful gift to us!!!  Encounters with people like one this makes us wildly happy!

We shared contact info.  I hope to hear from these five young people over and over again in the course of our lives.  Thank you, kids, for making our day complete and special!

We looked for short cuts to our way home but we know how complicated and regretful that can be.  We sensibly retraced our steps.  We dreaded the part of our walk that this morning took us through a part of town that we know should be avoided.  As bad and dangerous as it looked, no one bothered us.  Everyone greeted us with the simple “buenos” or “buenos dias.”  Still, there was that inner-feeling we really shouldn’t be here.

On the walk home just before we had to enter that worrisome part of town, we looked left and a few blocks away was the subway/bus station, Cinco de Mayo.  Hurray!  We took a hard left.  Navigating this station befuddled us terribly two months ago but everything seemed very clear this time.  We went down the stairs from the street and ran directly into a lighted bus map, a real-time display of buses approaching and leaving and their location.  We ID’d our bus, its location in the bus terminal, and walked right to it.  We boarded it and ABC, arrived home. 

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