I don’t know what other people do, but faced with an issue of any nature, be it health, life changes, psychology, etc., I do a lot of research and find experiences of others helpful. Lately, my focus has been cultural shock, as it seems that we are undergoing one. We’ve moved to a few different countries and we thought we were ready. Well…It is the same every time. Never mind that your intellect is telling you that this is to be expected, you still end up with the same emotions. The first reaction after arriving in a new country is euphoria. It is like a honeymoon phase, when you are just delighted with the new culture, excited with the novelty and change. Then you start feeling a bit uncomfortable. Communication is difficult without fluency in the new language. Your whole world is turned upside down. Different climate, cuisine and all the countless pieces of information you fail to interpret. Sometimes you want to hide and stick to the familiar. The world outside seems unfriendly (which you know is a misconception) or at best indifferent. You’ve left the intricate web of support behind and there is nothing to replace it. What if I get sick, or get in trouble with the law? Will there be enough money to retire indefinitely? The more you interact with the outside, the easier it gets. Your comfort level and confidence increases. I have no idea how long it takes before we get to this point. I think it is wise to give it at least 6 months before the first awkward and uncomfortable phase is over. Funny that it is much easier to handle changes if you know they are temporary. It is the case when you travel. Like a kid, you allow yourself to just play. Permanence has weight.

Even though we made this transition as smooth as possible, we are not free from these feelings. Some days we seem to tire of not understanding the language. As I listen to my Spanish lessons in the heat of the day, my eyelids start to drop. It is really annoying for someone who is used to having a really good memory. Welcome to the ‘middle age’! I should have retired when I was 20 or at the most 30! Maciek advises to suck it up and get on with the program. He had to deal with memory limitations all his life and overcame them with hard work and diligence. Now I know how things are in his world.

So far Panama has been friendly. Our rocky road of Barro Blanco is full of greetings and waves. We are treated very well when shopping, at a bank or buying car insurance. There was no opportunity yet to get stuck in the inner workings of famous Panamanian bureaucracy. The transfer of car ownership was done by a native Spanish speaker; all we had to do was sign.
After driving Pan American highway to David for a while we got our bearings around the police radar check stops. No tickets or bribes (supposedly the president is fighting with corruption so nobody is sure if Police is taking or not at the moment) to date.

We spend quite a bit of time on the farm, just pattering around. Easing ourselves into it. Life is easy here. Welcome to the confrontational stage of cultural shock. Avoidance. It is so comfy behind the fence, chuckle. When we shop or adventure drive, we spend, so staying put is easier on the wallet. But I already feel guilty, even though we’ve had a car for only two weeks now. There are so many places to see, yet I am not sightseeing like crazy. One of the lessons of retirement is to stop feeling guilty. It is your life, you are not accountable to anyone about your choices. Do what feels right. There is time to go adventuring and not drive yourself crazy running like a chicken with its head cut off. Live and learn.

Here is a link:
Latest pics from rural life in Panama

Provisions are done, the car returned. Life on a farm has begun. I feel as if I am cruising: it’s hot, swims are frequent and so are happy hours. Nature is all around, including pesky chiggers that bite without mercy in the evening. Diefenbaker! Mornings start leisurely, with a 10 AM breakfast on the balcony. BTW, the new header picture on the blog IS the view from the balcony. There are no fixed plans for a day – some kind of agenda emerges naturally. Daily chores leave enough time for reading, making bread, watching a movie or socializing. Most of the cruising fundamentals are there except that we remain in one place. It all sounds idyllic: life has acquired a certain unhurried quality. We have no choice but to be green as our rural area has no garbage collection. Maciek burns whatever he can; the organics make it to the compost pile; bottled beer is purchased by case, the bottles reused, like milk in the old days. Flory, one of the employees, takes away our cans. All the rest of the waste, and it’s not much, is taken to the city. Perhaps we will have a chance to learn some woodworking skills, as Jack offered to build a bookcase for us from a local hardwood, called laurel.
One more commonality with cruising is the fact that we remain fairly isolated from the outside world, within our comfort zone, among Canadians. In some respects it is bad (limited experience), in some good (sense of security)…It’s not possible to break into a Spanish speaking world without knowing the language. Everything in its own time…
Of course, 1100 square foot condo is much more comfortable than any boat. Unlimited supply of water and power, AC, internet, a pool outside, plumbing, a fridge/freezer, washer, dryer…And all that in the tropics! We are getting seriously spoiled. Why go cruising at all? Perhaps we will need a push to kick into a more intense gear when the time comes? Where is the greatest award: in a challenge or a peaceful, uneventful life?

Latest pics from rural life in Panama