Bocas del Toro

After a long journey on the bus, through the border crossing, in a tour van, and on a boat taxi, we were relieved to finally arrive in our destination: Isla Colon of the Bocas del Toro islands off the coast of Panama. Thursday night (3/22), we found our amazing bed/breakfast hotel and a place to eat dinner, and then crashed, exhausted from the day's travels.

Friday morning, we got up and took a taxi to Playa de Estrellas del Mar (Starfish Beach--which is exactly what it sounds like: bright colored starfish lay submersed, just off the shoreline.) The water was extremely clear, so you could see all sorts of sea animals living on the shallow sea floor.

Climbing onto these palm trees arched out over the water, I felt like I was stepping into a postcard or even a screensaver.

Then, Patrick decided it would be a good idea to use his machete to get coconuts out of the tree.

Patrick's advice: How to get coconuts off a tree

1) Find palm tree of reasonable height

2) Attach machete to long branch to make a coconut cutting device

3) Hack at a coconut until

a. it falls off

b. your machete gets lodged in the coconut

4) If a. then use the machete to whack off the top of the coconut and drink your well deserved coconut juice.

5) If b. then pick up nearby coconuts and chuck them into the tree to dislodge the machete. Stand clear. Once the machete falls to the ground, repeat process starting at step 1.

The amazing group of people I got to travel with!
(NESW: Patrick, Megan, Adam, Kate)

I was so excited to be so close to the starfish, I reached down to touch its center. But a Panamanian lady walked by just at that moment and yelled at me, "Solo para mirar." (Only for looking!) Just a bit further down the beach, I noticed many signs saying "Don't touch the starfish." Oops. Guess I'll let them be.

After many tireless efforts, Patrick and Adam were successful with their coconut (pipa) gathering. They figured out if they just chucked an old coconut with just enough force and at just the right angle, they could knock other coconuts out of the tree. We then used Patrick's machete to hack off the top of the coconut and drink the sweet, fresh coconut water.
I felt like I was on Survivor.

We also "borrowed" Patrick's machete for a few fun pictures.

This is my favorite: The Orndorff's..aka Central American Gothic

Molas! Reminds me of home.

Adam and Megan at our great hotel. Not only did the hotel have air conditioning, hot showers with strong water pressure, and a hammock, but it was Christian-owned and they served us delicious breakfasts with homemade jam in the mornings. What a retreat!

The last day we rented kayaks and kayaked across the bay to another island (no pictures, too wet). Now for me, who has never kayaked, let alone ocean kayaked, in my life, this was no easy task. But after about 40 minutes of agonizingly repetitive rowing, I was able to jubilantly yell, "Land ho!" and we slid our kayaks onto a gorgeous section of white sand.
It was our own private beach and to me personally, seemed even more like an undiscovered treasure, since we had done the grunt work to get there.

But the real story is this:
Patrick, Adam, Megan and I were out snorkeling in "our" little section of the Caribbean, marveling at the colorful coral and glittering fish darting out of our way. Adam was making fun of me for talking to the fish through my snorkel. (Which apparently sounds the same as when you're at the dentist and he asks you a question and you have to answer with your mouth propped open and an airtube inside. Ex: Ello ish! Eh ool! Translation: Hello fish! Hey cool!)

Suddenly, I heard Kate calling from the shore. I lifted my head out of the water to hear more clearly. Megan, Patrick, and Adam were already by her side. I half swam, half backward flipper-walked to the shore. "What happened?" I asked, curious beyond belief.

Kate explained, "I was watching our stuff and decided to walk to the other side of the kayaks. I only had my back turned for a minute, but one of the locals swept down out of the trees, grabbed Patrick's bag and disappeared back into the jungle."

"What?!" It was the craziest thing I had ever heard. Although, probably likely to happen; I mean a monkey did try to steal my sandwich once. Imagine the speed of an island native and we were on kind of a deserted beach.

Patrick and Adam had already thrown off their snorkel gear, and Patrick fastened his machete around his waist. "We're going to go find my bag."

Again, this seemed to me to be something out of a drama series. It was either going to be Lost, where their adventure would end poorly, or it would be Gilligan's Island, where the local would return with the bag, having had a cultural misunderstanding, and everyone could laugh afterwards. Hopefully. Megan, Kate, and I stood on the beach scanning the trees for any signs of the guys' return and praying hard.

About half an hour later, Patrick and Adam returned, the determination in their faces was gone and no backpack was to be seen. We were just thrilled they were alive..muddier, but alive. They informed us that they had found the tribe/area where the locals were living and spoke with them about the bag. "Lo siento." responded the tribe members after hearing Patrick's story. They claimed to have never seen the bag. Patrick and Adam continued to search the area, but to no avail. Fortunately, all the items in the bag were not of great value (cheap camera, $40, chapstick), only the bag itself had been Patrick's favorite. Really, though, we gave thanks to God for protecting us and hoped that somehow God used what was in the bag to provide what the local needed.

After we had kayaked back (much easier this time!) and relayed the account of the stolen bag to the snorkel/kayak owner, he gave us a huge discount on our bill. What a gift!

Isla Colon is one large party town, so we spent the rest of the time exploring the area, resting at our hostel, and popping into different restaurants to hear the live bands. Some of the time we pretended that we only spoke Spanish, in order to distinguish ourselves from the obnoxious tourist groups, and the last night, we sought out authentic Panamanian food. It was a wonderful respite with great friends, and we came back with some unforgettable stories.

Adios Panama! See you again in May!