Ron was with us for this trip to Los Santos. We were happy to have company and after the first night in Las Tablas we headed out to the beach at Playa Venado. It is about 55 to 60kms from Las Tablas. The day was dry and hot and the road to Pedasi, though rough from construction in the beginning, was smooth and straight. We saw an outdoor appliance store in the middle of a golden color pasture near a small house. The road led through a countryside that had been baked hard by the sun and with few trees. People were walking along the road and working. I liked watching how they worked: it was different from the areas of Panama I knew best. Los Santos is probably the most Spanish of Panamanian provinces; the indigenous population though still clearly visible in the faces of people, died out earlier here than in other parts of Panama. Most of the indigenous people in Panama were very early on forced from the good land in the lowlands, and pushed up into the distant mountains, where the soil was not good for sugarcane.

And because Los Santos is more or less flat, though there are some mountains, there are few indigenous people. And because of this people in Los Santos were more individualistic, they were more self-sufficient, they had the Iberian sense of extreme individualism that bordered on anarchism. They did not like the idea of working with other people in groups, especially in agriculture. This was different from other provinces in Panama where people, especially in indigenous communities, liked to work together to achieve goals that would empower the community, or so they said.

In indigenous communities like these, people were ostracized for individualism. But the community work never led to anything, except finding out that someone you knew well might steal from the community given the opportunity. Blood feuds raged away in such small communities: people - often brothers and sisters - wouldn't talk to each other for years, if ever. It was only when a stranger arrived, like me for example, that the blood feud would be temporaily suppressed. And if you took the feuding parties out of their immediate environments, they would become the best of friends until they arrived back to their familiar surroundings. I liked Los Santos for its individualism and industriousness, but environmentally it had too many cattle for such small amounts of pastureland, though the meat served with breakfast is excellent.

We passed through Pedasi. There are two nice small pensions in Pedasi. One of them is named Residencia Moscoso; the other didn’t have a sign, but looked beautiful. There is a French restaurant in town that is sometimes open. The town streets were being redone.

The road to the town was new and the road to the beach was smooth. The current president of Panama is from Pedasi and the town looks great. It was another 30kms to Playa Venado. I didn’t know what to expect; I had never been to this part of Los Santos before. Before we arrived to Playa Venado we went through a countryside that seemed unique to me: the ocean was visible in the far distance over some hills, and before the ocean there were flat marshy lands, like what you normally see just before a river reaches the ocean, but on the other side of the road away from the ocean, the scenery was soft with gentle sensuous hills, like in southern England, before Brighton, but golden, not green. The hills curved and bent so that they appeared feminine, with curves and hips and breasts and torsos. And the dryness of the air mixed with the contour of the landscape only made sex seem thirstier and nearer. Well, when we arrived at Playa Venado, there were only a few people, surfers mostly. The sun was furious. People stayed in the shade, out of the sun. I went in the water briefly. The beach here is very popular with surfers: the waves can be huge, though on this day they were normal to small. But the floor of the ocean was perfectly clean: there were no shells or sharp objects, just clear water and sunshine. The beach is large and is shaped like a half-moon, into a cove. I was the only one to go into the water. The others waited under the small bar that was set far back from the ocean. There were four or five small and very rough cabañas located to left of the bar as you exited the water and walked up the beach to the bar. The cabañas could be rented out for a few dollars a day. There was a small resort up the road, but we did not visit the resort.

The bar was relaxed, people were laying down reading books, other people were taking siestas, and still other people pulled up in their 4X4s, got out, sat down, and fell asleep. No one talked with anyone else and there was more or less complete silence. The heat could almost be heard outside the bar’s roof. Insects made sounds in the golden grass and old, junked cars, were bleached of their color. People walked slowly in the heat to get drinking water or wash off under the water spigots.

I wanted to stay longer, but we left sooner than I would have liked. We headed backwards and passed through some of the countryside we had seen on our way to the beach. Ron wanted to see a small town we had passed on the way; it was called Los Asientos (the seats).

We all liked the name and privately thought about how the town had been given its name. It was a classic small Panamanian town, set back from the road in Los Santos. It could not have been more perfect. Wonderful houses and a church, small roads that curved down hillsides and flowers and blooming bushes and small ranch houses with hammocks and Spanish tiles. Of course there was the ubiquitous worn out basketball court in front of the church that know one used or even remembered using. We left Los Asientos after a brief visit and headed back to Panama City: a 10 hour drive that took us through the towns of Tonosi, Macaracas and then ended up in the Sirigua Desert at sundown. 

Carnival

Carnival is celebrated in many different ways in Panama. Some people hate Carnival because they never have a good time. Others celebrated Carnival while they were too young and went nuts. Being young and nuts they broke their legs or dislocated their knees or crashed their cars: they are humble about Carnival and stay at home and do nothing during the celebrations. Other people with more money, always leave Panama during Carnival and go to the Dominican Republic or Puerto Rico. And still other people, who grew up with Carnival, celebrate quietly and enjoy themselves in the deep interior, far from the main celebrations. Others never miss Carnival and always go crazy. The more experienced come out and celebrate Carnival just at the point where everyone is about to fall over from fatigue.

This year Carnival is going to be great, though I plan to do nothing. I visited Los Santos before Carnival  because I knew I wouldn’t go during the celebrations.

Quotes

What can I say to you bonita
What magic words will capture you
Like a soft evasive mist, you are bonita
You will fly away when love is new
what do you ask of me bonita
what part do you want me to play
- Antonio Carlos Jobim