Next day we went to the beach early and left Rosi to enjoy the beach alone. Gabi and I headed back to the house to take a nap and take some sun on the roof of the house. Alberto and a friend showed up after a short time.

The hour was somewhere between 12:15 and 12:30. Alberto is 25 and a good friend and He, Gabi and I have always done well together, though this is a man who can have terrible strokes of luck. He once went to visit a friend in order to show off his pet monkey and the friend's dog upon seeing the monkey on Alberto's shoulder attacked, at the same time a horde of bees were excited by the screaming from the dog attack and came to the rescue. Soon after, an American soldier gave Alberto his 4x4 to drive as a goodwill gesture, and Alberto, not knowing how to drive, accidentally threw the truck into reverse and drove very quickly and wildly down into a small, steep river valley. Alberto went from road forward to sky upwards. This is a story he loves to tell with full adrenalin.

Alberto's friend was aggressive and quickly announced that alcohol was not going to work and that he wanted COKE as in Yap-A_Dapp_A_DOOOOO. The word, just hearing it, made me think of the 80s and ugly apartment complexes where people only spoke in hushed tones and were constantly waiting for the police to arrive over the wire. We steered off that and he announced that he wanted to be the godfather of my child; this demand was directed to Gabi - I was gone during the early part - and he wanted a truthful answer. Gabi with her sobering Costa Rican mind didn't answer, and hoped I would return to take care of this entanglement. I did; I said of course you can. And I made some Coconut Rum and Coca-Cola drinks and Alberto's friend thought the combination was like vanilla and then he suddenly announced in quasi-Noriega-esq military formalism that he had to work the next day, but before leaving he drank almost a half-a-bottle of Tequila. And I was on my first-drink, fourth-beer of enjoyment.

Alberto on the other hand stayed and drank and then passed out not without stumbling over the beer and snack things.

We left later in the afternoon after Alberto had slept. We left the island at about 5:30. I was worried about driving back the three hours to the city. I had stopped drinking and was sober. But didn't want police problems. Two years before about ten days after 9/11, we had been attacked and robbed at gunpoint. Gabi saved me because she told the killers that she needed her Id's because she had worked for years getting them. And they obliged her. They wanted to kill me. But didn't: I made like a dervish and escaped. They took the rental car. The next day, a Sunday, we went to see the police: We met a Detective Slush who couldn't help us: he was the only one in the office and the other detectives were gone. We went to the Hertz office and the representative got on the phone with Detective Slush and talked in a cartoonish rapid-fire. Monday I went back to the police station with the Hertz representative and we filled out forms and talked with people; and I realized the office I had been in the day before was now packed with detectives and people and forms going all around. It took a very long time to fill out the forms and help the police, and the police were very nice. But as I was leaving I asked the detective who was taking my statement about Detective Slush. What was Dt. Slush about and where had that name come from? The Detective, to whom my question was directed to, told me he had never heard of anyone with that name and he acted as if I didn't know the correct pronunciation of the word I was trying to say.

We arrived in the city on Sunday night and slept. The next day, Monday, we headed out to the beaches on the Pacific Coast. We went to Pal Mar Beach first. Very nice place. There is a wonderful little town set back from the beach. There is also a surf shop run by an Argentinean and the waves are big and the water is nice. We also went to Rio Mar. Nice place, also: a fresh water river meets the sea and there are low-cliffs from which you can jump: the nature here is more desert than tropical. Went out to dinner that night at a nice Thai restaurant that served vegetarian shrimp: for Gabi, not me. We liked the place; the music was Michael Bolton and Yanni, I think.

Today went to see Roger and worked. Gabi is asleep as I write now. It is about 2:00 in the morning on Tuesday the 4th. Carnaval has about four more hours in it - which I will enjoy - in Las Tablas the fireworks go straight to the sky and then the sardine and the stupid Carnaval hangover. In Panama they have what they call Carnavalitos - Small Carnavals - these occur after Carnaval in the distant countryside and in the most unexpected places: but can't say where: And you'll never know where to look. Bullshit. Panama is 100 this year: November 3rd.