Perfect Strangers (Panama)

Time to take my first ‘regular’ bus ride out of Quepos. The to San Jose left at 6am. You have to arrive early and wave your ticket as the bus goes by if you actually want them to stop. I was a little leary of how it would all work. They say it’s common that something “happens” with the bus en route to SJ so taking the 6am instead of the 4am was already risky since I had an international flight at 11am. I was also leary that I wouldn’t be able to stay awake in order to pay attention to the instructions and watch my bags - very important to watch the bags. Lucky for me, as often happens when I’m on the move, I met a woman willing to help out. She got on the bus speaking perfect Spanish, but she is originally from the US. A single mom that moved to CR after her husband died suddenly. She needed a place to raise her daughter on her own without having a high cost of living. She’s been here ever since, her daughter is now in college, she runs a non profit called “Kids Saving the Rainforest”. I picked the perfect seat and she picked the seat next to me. She told me all the tricks, stops and time tables. I was also pretty happy to get a seat near the front so I could hear the bus driver. I had heard stories of how many people needed to stand all the way to SJ. So far so good.

A few minutes after being settled there was some commotion behind me between a non-Costa Rican girl and a local. I deciphered that it was about seat numbers. Seat numbers??? I just took a seat that I liked. Who knew there were seat numbers on the tickets? So, with my new friend Jennifer next to me we quickly checked my ticket. Talk about good luck, or angels at your back maybe, I PICKED THE FREAKIN’ CORRECT SEAT! AND, I HAD SEAT NUMBER 11! Eleven is the birth date of one of my most favoritest people, it’s a number that happens to pop up in my life often. Jennifer was stunned. I was comforted, reassured and smiling. The trip was going to be OK. I closed my eyes for a nap.

Ok, step two was to make it on to my flight. I must admit I was a little lazy in my travel planning so I hadn’t done too much airport or Panama research. Pura Vida…just taking it as it comes. I knew my final destination that I had purchased was to Panama City so I would just figure it out as I go. Well, lucky for me again, Paulo, a fine looking Tico that didn’t look Tico was there to help me along. I approached the waiting area and saw him instantly. Delicioso. But, being in a strange place with limited Spanish I opted to be shy and read my notes. Gradually he seemed to be getting closer. Esta bien, nice shoes, nice watch, friendly face, I can deal with that. He asked if I was going to David. David? I know my ticket says David, but I just figured it was a quick stop along the way to PC. Which it was, however, it did come with a plane deboard, customs check, tourist card purchase, etc. that would have confused me a little. As archaic as flying seems to be in theses parts (I mean c’mon, they wrote my boarding pass out by hand), it all does work pretty smoothly. However, it was nice to have Paulo there to confirm my instructions with the flight crew. It was also nice that it was open seating. Ah yes, tall (emphasis on tall) Tico with Italian blood was my neighbor for the ride.

After leaving Paulo, let’s hope we see him again, I was on to the last leg. Here was Annie – a middle aged writer that lost her Panamanian husband years ago and stayed in Panama, her new home at the time. Her children are grown and now living in the US. She’s eccentric, independent, loves to entertain, loves her freedom, speaks Spanish, enjoys travel…she was the perfect companion discussing life, love and travel in just a short ride. I’ll be on the lookout for her books and hope to see her again one day if in Panama. I hadn’t even gotten to the country and it was already worth the trip.

To be continued…