Ok. It´s early, maybe 7:30am, and finally on the Pacific side of the whole deal. Woke up yes­ter­day in the Caribbean — Bas­ti­mento, Panama, to be exact — and after a full day of trav­el­ling con­sist­ing of 3 buses, 2 boats, and 1 taxi, we arrived here last night. Cur­rently the town is amock with Amer­i­can boys I ini­tially thought to be frat bros … the most ner­vous I´d been the whole trip, to tell you the truth … all barbed-wire and thorn rings around their massed biceps, visors, you can pic­ture it … turns out to be Coast Guard dudes (there were a few women among them too…picture them, too). It seems that they´re out there on the Pacific waters from Colum­bia to San Diego, breath­ing heavy on boats going by … one Guard (is that how we call them?), who uses the word ”dick” as a syn­onym for ”bro” or ”dude”, was telling us that with the cur­rent war with Iraq, they´ve had more free­dom to do what they do … Do what you do? … Yeah, I love killing drug deal­ers … OK. So. Now what?

Well, CNN is on the TV behind us, in Span­ish, but the theme song for the War On Iraq is the same … that mel­liflu­ous lit­tle melody with a hint of sym­pa­thy tinged with jin­go­ism. As you can imag­ine, there´s a lot of graf­fiti here about the war, and none of it is very US friendly … Strange to see it from this per­spec­tive, though I haven´t really seen much because I kind of boy­cott the cov­er­age. Inter­est­ing to see its social impli­ca­tions from another coun­try. I was in Czech dur­ing the few weeks after 9/11, and that was a strange time too… a month of anthrax and drums beat­ing for blood. Huh.

So, today I think we´re head­ing across to Pureto Jimenez, an hour by boat, and check out the beach over there. Tomor­row Maja and myself are tak­ing a lit­tle Cessna back to San Jose, and so on and so on so forth and blah blah blah and if it hap­pens I´ll tell you then …

Ok. Ciao.