En el Muelle de San Blas

I'm back and I'm black!! (or just really tanned).

I know it's been a minute since I've posted but I just wanted to make sure you're paying attention. I went to Panama for a week for a friend's wedding and to explore the country a bit. As much as I'd like to recap with a travel journal-esque post, the sights, sounds, tastes, smells and experiences feel too sacred to just rattle off about on my blog. I'm keeping my Panama trip locked away in a small corner of my mind and memory, for now.

But I will take you to San Blas. . . because I think it needs the credit and recognition. The San Blas islands are an archipelago in the northeast, Caribbean coast of Panama. Over 300 islands scattered across the Caribbean make up this community, that is inhabited by the Kuna Indians. Going to San Blas is almost like stepping back a few hundred years in time, and the region is an untouched, very un-touristic gem. After a bit of planning and research, I anticipated camping or sleeping on sand underneath a million stars, surviving on a diet of coconuts, pineapples and fish, and spending every waking hour in the clear water. I got 2 out of 3 done. Thankfully, the tour guide suggested the main island's hotel, which meant I would have a mattress in a cabin that had plumbing and cold showers (which are considered luxuries in the islands). This was the closest I've come to "slumming it" on a trip. If you know me, you would understand what I'm talking about.

The Kuna are the second smallest people in the world. The women rarely smile, but show their warmth and hospitality effortlessly. They spoke a different dialect of spanish, but I was still able to communicate them with the little spanish I knew. Birthdays are not celebrated, and the Kuna pass their days without keeping track of time or their age. The workday begins at dawn and ends just before dusk. Each island represented a specific purpose or marketable item; you went to Nalunega to pick up some from lobsters for dinner; and then to Corbiski for some toilet paper or bleach; then to Dog Island for some of the nicer hand-made crafts and snorkeling by the sunken ship. The Kuna had simple lives, and they were quite happy; they lived day-to-day simply earning a living, and raising their children. That was their sole purpose.

We "commuted" via a small motorboat for about 30 minutes between each island. You don't know what sunburn is until you're out in the middle of the sea, in the middle of the day, directly under the Panamanian sunlight. My mid-eastern skin is still peeling for the first time in my entire life. I'm not sure if words can capture the beauty of the sea that I saw. I've been to a lot of "vaca/resort" destinations, but no other place I've seen so far is as breathtakingly aquamarine and as calm as the Caribbean in San Blas. Even on the boat, in the middle of the ocean where the sea floor was probably 60-70 feet down, we could clearly see the stingrays and fish skimming the bottom. There just are no words.



Sola en el olvido,
Sola en su espiritu,
Sola con su amor el mar,
Sola, en el muelle de San Blas.
-Mana