At 5, we hopped into a pickup truck and headed north. At first we all wondered why the trip required four wheel drive. The wondering stopped after an hour of unpaved, winding mountains paths and especially after we drove through a four-foot high river.
The trip ended at the Caribbean coast, not at a town, but at a building where small boats from the nearby islands would pick up passengers. Our boat trip took about an hour, passing by countless beautiful, palm-covered, sandy islands. When we arrived at our beautiful, palm-covered, sandy island, we were greeted by Franklin and shown to our respective shacks.
Coming from the run-down slums of Panama City, Franklin’s island seemed like paradise. We snorkled, swam, played soccer, sunbathed, and read our books in hammocks (ie: ‘napped’). The island was very small (a stroll around the whole shore could take you 2 minutes… if you wanted to be really liesurely about it) but somehow managed to have space for a competing resort. It looked identical, cost the same, and obviously offered the same quality of island. The only difference was the quality of food, which seemed to alternate from meal to meal as to which side of the island was better.
That night, there was a huge party with all the residents of the island, including many of the local Kuna Yala. At one point we all huddled around the staticy tv set and watched Panamanian native Mariano Rivera help give the Yankees their 34 millionth World Series title. Of course, the Phillies have Carlos Ruiz, so Panama was in something of a win-win situation in this WS (unlike Mets fans).
