Panama Shmanama

Women nursing babies while walking down the street, clusters of ne’er-do-wells gesturing fingers to their mouths and offering weed, men staring unabashedly, thunder that shakes the entire hostel, savory street food wafting through town with a hint of salty ocean air.

After being scammed right out of the airport gate in San Jose, I didn’t know what to expect with such a welcome into Central America.
Sure, traveling has its mishaps and hiccups along the way, and you can choose to embrace it or let it ruin your trip.
We referred to Bocas Del Toro as “Dirty Venice”
I’ve learned that the majority of backpacking means letting go; of not being afraid to look like an idiot when trying to communicate with hand gestures and broken words, taking the chance of chatting up an interesting stranger in a hostel, not giving up when things go wrong or unexpectedly, and having the freedom to go with where the wind takes you (or the miserable 10 hour overnight bus). But letting go is terrifying sometimes – and simultaneously the greatest thing you could ever do.
Here I am in Panama City, the heart of Panama in the historic district. We just came from a few days of bliss on Bocas Del Toro, a group of islands off northern Panama, seeing dolphins, white sand beaches, sloths, and a parrot named Hobo. While the heat and humidity gets to me after a time (bring on the MOUNTAINS), I love seeing how different this culture is and soaking in the unique beauty of Latin America. I’m super stoked as we keep heading south, nevertheless. Colombia in a couple of days!
The old and the new.
I have also realized I couldn’t travel and do what I love unless I had such a strong support system (this includes you, if you are reading). It makes my day when people comment, encourage me in my journey and keep me in your prayers.
So, thank you. Life is a blessing.

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