Mind the Darien Gap

Considering all the effort and money and power struggles that went into the construction of a huge canal cutting through Panama, it amazes me that it is still impossible to drive from Panama to Colombia. We met several bikers who were riding from Alaska to the tip of Patagonia, and this is the only spot on their trip where they were forced to fly or take a boat. The border, aka the Darien Gap, is covered in impenetrable forest filled with drug lords and dangerous animals. Supposedly anyone who tries to cross it never makes it out. And on top of that, there’s no ferry and no cheap flights. We had our heart set on meeting some friends in Colombia, so we begrudgingly forked over the cash for a 5 day sailing trip from El Porvenir to Cartagena.

We piled onto the boat with thirteen others, about half of them doing the bike trip I mentioned. It started out lovely, and TK and I perched ourselves at the bouncing bow, enjoying the wind and the scenery. Within an hour we were both in the back, puking over the side and curling up in misery. Those not prone to sea sickness ate spaghetti up front while five or six of us moaned in the back. We tried looking at the horizon, tried closing our eyes, tried facing the breeze, tried munching ginger, tried to sleep through it, but nothing helped. Down in our cabin I sweated and squirmed through the whole night, using all my self-control to not puke on the bunk below me.

At 5 am the thrashing stopped and they dropped anchor. We got up later to see that we were parked alongside tiny picture-perfect islands. We spent the day jumping of the boat and swimming between the islands. The next day we moved a bit further, to where the indigenous Kuna people live. Women canoed to our boat to sell crafts, and men sold lobsters, crabs, and beer, all of which we bought.  Our captain took us to a larger island where they live, crowded into simple straw huts with hammocks as their only furniture.

After these two days of lounging around islands, the boat set sail for 40 hours to Cartagena. This time I had the foresight to take a lot of Dramamine, so I felt great and slept through most of it. 

Back-flip gone awry

Killing time on the long journey

Cartagena, Colombia

Farewell, Panama

My preschool class (plus two older boys who wandered into the photo)

Back to blogging!  We left Panama in early June, and here are some photos from our last week there.

Pumpkin seeds grew!

By this point we were fed up with the humidity, frustrated with our jobs, and itching to get out of the jungle. TK finished the last of 18 chicken coops, relieved to be done with kayaking from homestead to homestead in blazing heat to labor on them. I threw together a few projects at the school that I had been meaning to do for months, like planting a school garden. 

TK and Margaret from the lodge made a surprise visit to the school,
 to bring cupcakes on my last day.

As much as I wanted to leave, I held back tears the entire last day of preschool. Back at the lodge we exchanged gifts and hugs with the staff members who were so wonderful for our entire stay there. We lingered with them at the dock, postponing our final good-byes and sincerely hoping we’ll see each other again. I love these volunteer gigs that allow us to grow intimately close with small communities around the world, but the transitions between them are so draining and sad. It’s one of the reasons we talk about settling down in a year or so.

Last boat commute home. Kind of impressive to not get a single person looking at the camera.

(This is how the older kids get to school)