Two very different days

We´re on day six of our trip and time has flown, but we´ve experienced so much in such a short time it feels like we´ve been here much longer.

Wednesday and Thursday could not have been more different. I really wanted to make Chris write about Wednesday because I think I´ll have a hard time explaining our experience. But I´ll give it a go...

We got up early Wednesday morning and caught a bus from Panama City in route to David and then on to Boquete. Our buddy Andrew was with us, which was great. He speaks fluent spanish and has really helped us get around. Because of his Spanish, and the fact the girl at the bus station counter had a crush on him, the three of us got the first three seats on the bus.

Our bus left promptly at 8 a.m. and we planned on getting to David at around 2:30 and then were to catch another bus to Boquete.

At 11:30 we stopped for a 30-minute break in a little town called Santiago. We headed out at noon and were on schedule to get to David at 2:30. Not 15-20 minutes from Santiago our bus came to a screeching hault. A group of people holding banners were blocking the road.

It was shocking to see protesters blocking a major roadway. We literally missed passing by the road block by about 1 minute.

Surely the authorities would be there in a matter of minutes to make the protesters leave the road. No way could traffic be stopped by a small group of people holding banners. We treated the incident as a bit of a novelity. We got out took some pictures and then got back on the bus expecting to leave in a matter of minutes.

One car decided it had enough and attempted to drive around the protesters by going through a ditch on the side of the ride. They failed miserably. The people surrounded the car and pummeled it with rocks and sticks. The car turned around and went back to its spot in the road.

An hour passed and the people gave no indication that they were going to stop protesting. No other cars dared to try and pass -- this said, the protesters were not violent, they never approached cars or threatened people who were taking pictures.

Andrew asked the woman next to him exactly what was going on. Turns out it was an entire town protesting the exploitation of workers in a local copper and gold mine. Apparently the mining company and/or the government was forcing the workers to work in unsafe conditions, was not paying fair wages, and as the mine grew the town´s farm land was decreasing.

These were people fighting for equal rights and they wanted results immediately. I don´t think we´d see something like this in the states -- at least not in this day and age.

We learned that the protests were going to end between 3 p.m. and 6 p.m. I´m not sure who came up with this time frame, but we were really hoping for 3 p.m. Enduring sitting in a cramped bus for more than six hours seemed like a nightmare.

To add to the fun, I had woken up that morning with a horrible head cold. I haven´t had a cold in years, and I couldn´t believe my body decided to give out on that day.

Honestly, though, I was never angry. None of us were. How could we be angry about losing a few hours in a day of traveling when an entire town was fighting just to be treated fairly.

Three o´clock rolled around and the protesters seemed to be gaining momentum. They had even created a new, and bigger banner. Towns people formed a line and performed a dance as they beat on a small drum.

I guess it was only a matter of time before a tourist decided he´d had enough and thought he could talk his way the protest barricade. A tall blond-haired man swaggered up to the crowd confidently. He got into the face of several protesters and was immediately doused in the face with homemade pepper spray. He turned back to his car, humiliated.

What an idiot. His antics only made the town´s people more angry.

Four o´clock rolled around. My head was pounding and I couldn´t breathe through my nose. A kind older woman next to me saw how miserable I was and gave me some kind of pill. I don´t know what it was, but it helped!

When six o´clock arrived, we anxiously awaited to see if the protesters would roll up their signs and make way for the winding rows of traffic to pass through.

This was not to be. Finally people stuck in traffic snapped. Semi-truck drivers and buses blew their horns, cars tried to move forward hoping the protesters would move.

Still the protests continued.

Chris decided he might as well grab snacks and drinks for us, considering we might be there awhile-- and yes they had two snack stands, oddly enough.

While Chris was in the snack line, and Andrew and I were back on the bus, the dynamic of the protest changed. In the distance, on the other side of the barricade ONE police truck approached. The protesters grabbed rocks, tires, and branches that they´d spread on the road to prevent vehicles from passing by. They tossed the debris on to our side of the road. Andrew jumped out the bus to look for Chris. Fortunately, Chris was close by with snacks and we made it back to our seats safely.

Things escalated quickly. Earlier I mentioned that the girl who had the hots for Andrew had given us front row seats on the bus. Now our front row seats afforded us the view of the protesters last ditch efforts to make their voices heard.

They doused the heaping pile of wood and rubber with gasoline and set it a fire. The town´s people moved to the side of the road and finally let traffic pass.

We drove on as the fire blazed behind us and hundreds of cars, trucks and buses made there way through the incredible scene.

We didn´t say much as we headed toward David. We´d spent more than 6 1/2 hours on a crammed bus and had witnessed an incident that affected us deeply. We also were exhausted, thirsty and hungry AND we still had to catch another bus to Boquete.

Well, the buses to Boquete had stopped running and there was no way we were staying in the shithole that is David. We decided to take a cab. Andrew negotiated a fairly decent rate, and we hoped the cabby wasn´t going to rob us.

We made it to our hostel within minutes of the door closing at 11 p.m. I was almost deliriously sick and wanted to sleep for an entire day.

We crashed, having not eaten for almost an entire day, dirty and sweaty but at least we were in Boquete and we were lulled to sleep by the bubbling river outside our hostel.

The next morning, I was feeling better, and as my Dad would say, we had a new lease on life.

Boquete is magical and I think our experience on Wednesday has made it that much sweeter. Thursday treated us to thieving monkeys, steaming hot springs, and a gently rolling river perfect for frolicking. I´ll talk about this in the next post.