TheExpatJournals.com

My dog broke my water main. When trying to figure out where I lived, the girl at the video rental asked if I lived in front of the “Judy who drinks?” One friend knew exactly when I was at Cable and Wireless in spite of the fact that there are only 3 employees and there were 2 other customers whom I did not speak to. A great lunch is $2.25. The electricity bill for my house last month was $4.24 which could be because there are so few outlets to plug anything into. I had two 25 year olds seriously hitting on me even though I told them my son was almost their age. I watched the Academy Awards en masse. There are six options to purchase shower heads, one option to purchase an on demand water heater larger than 6 liters and no marine sponges exist.

The skies are a rich light blue with various shades of clouds typically visible. Even though it’s dry season, it does rain a little. I see rainbows pretty much every day. I picked oranges, grapefruits, lemons, chayote, and tangerines from my yard. The guandu, plantains, guayaba, papaya and guanavana are not in season but are along the other fruit salad options I don’t have to leave the yard to get. I could care less about the sugar cane, but little Jason next door can’t wait to cut it which I gladly offer in exchange for the hours he spends laughingly romping like a human toy for my remarkably large though not yet six month old Belgian Shepherd. I’m surrounded by rottweilers, chickens and one 4 month old Husky. The abundant colors
in my yard are varying shades of red, pink, blue, purple, yellow, orange and white…the old lady who owned this house had a passion for gardening and it showed. Offset against that blue sky, it’s a beautiful pallette to open your eyes to in the morning. As I write this, a Sangre de Toro seems curious about me inside. In fact, it just flew over to the window, couldn’t land so returned to a lemon tree branch. That shade of irresdescent red is one you would swear didn’t exist in nature. n This is the back of the house. In front, I can always count on the hummingbirds to hover amidst the Hibiscus and a vine covering my fence with surveyor orange flowers in abundance.

I’ve seen the black squirrel and as long as I have construction garbage, the oppossum will probably continue to be a nightime amusement for me as the flashlight reflects off his eyes. Last night, there appeared to be dew or diamonds on the ground in the same greenish platinum as my favorite rotating star always visible in the Panama sky unless the light pollution of Panama City shields it from site. But these tiny reflection in my flashlight were on the ground. Naturally, curiosity demanded understanding and tiny spiders turned out to be the refractories on the ground.

I managed to invent a culvert that would both allow the flow of water, et al, though the small creek in my yard as well as prevent my dog from escaping to the neighbor’s property with two scary Rottweilers where I would guess, her puppy naivety might well be all the sense she ever has the opportunity to attain if they get ahold of her. I’ve fallen in love with this giant puppy, but I must admit I can’t recall my own son being this much work. One neighbor has a sqawking parrot and if I had a pet boa, that racket would be lunch. Always the noise. Always the noise.

And now I’m torn between painting more or putting on my boots to pluck stones out of the creek in order to cover the water main to prevent further mishap. Both will be done before the afternoon bajareques fades to the quilt cool night I so adore about this place. Yes, it’s sweater weather every night and I would never have guessed how such a simple pleasure could mean so very much. So far, I’m isolated by choice and by need of what must be done to turn this into my own.

The living room and kitchen walls were a disgusting pea soup green with a wretched wash of a honey tone. The exposed tin roof will need insulation before the rainy season simply so I can hear myself think. And the drop ceiling in the main living area is about as attractive as white bread. I’ve lived with high ceilings so long, I find myself thoughtlessly forever lifting things that crash into that eyesore, like a broom or a curtain rod. Why people like those is beyond me. And it’s new. And of course, it’s not simply to lift and replace and I continue to think about what might be a creative way of changing it. Until I know, I work on the simpler painting.

I’ve always wanted a red wall…a deep, rich red that has layers of subtle tones. So I decided to try it and I must say, I love it. My front living room wall is 3 shades with a fourth rubbed application. When the 4 o’clock light hit it yesterday, it was visually orgasmic! What is it about the gold light between 4 and 5 in the afternoon down here? I’ve seen golden light before, but here, it’s a daily treat. I don’t mean yellow, I mean a golden amber that has a depth to it that transforms mere sunlight into a wash of color on all it touches. I don’t miss the sharp afternoon platinum glare bouncing off the sea in front of me. I don’t miss the sea air, the black filth of the streets on my feet in (how could you wear anything else it’s so hot) flip flops (I’ve worn so much a calous developed where the thong hits) from each walk to the store or with the dog. In fact, I don’t miss walking the dog in the least. It’s much more convenient to open the door or better yet, when painting, shut my door so she can’t come in and get in the way.

I thought curiosity killed the cat, but this pooch has her snouse in absolutely everything. If I lean over to pick up something, she must investigate. If I put something down, she must sniff it. She follows me like a shadow and thank God, is very, very rarely vocal. She seemed to be almost instantly house trained and easily learned ’stay’ and ‘come’ especially with a treat involved. She likes fetching a ball and chewing on anything she finds. I once read that with the breed, if it’s on the floor, it’s theirs. To her credit, I only have to lift it off the floor and she respects that’s not her space. She sleeps through the night and so far, has destroyed only the water main. And, in all fairness, I should have covered it up as it was indeed above ground and more specifically, above her favorite hole which she enjoys digging and relaxing in.

Right now, she’s too sweet to be a guard dog, but in Casco Viejo, all of the police, national, presidential and tourist, were falling all over themselves with her. They recognized what she is and could be. She is going to be larger than a German Shepherd and is solid, pitch black with huge triangular ears that let you know exactly how very alert she is. I’ve had several offers to train her from policemen, in fact, on the highway, at a check point where you are supposed to show your passport and driver’s license, they could care less about my credentials, they just wanted to fawn over her. One even dug into his
wallet and gave me his card…more police offering to train her.

Indeed her parents were very highly trained dogs the US Government brought to Portobelo for a drug operation. I’m told the US Gov. paid $8000 each for her parents. Apparently, they are skilled experts at what they were trained to do. After the drug bust was over and they no longer had use for the dogs, they were going to simply put them down. Yes, folks, your tax dollars at work. Well, a friend of mine’s brother is close friends with whomever the vet is the US had on retainer for these skilled creatures. When informed of the government’s intention to put the dogs down, they worked it out to keep the dogs and voila! I now have one of their first offspring. Page is a Portobelena.

I adored her mother, but her father was so scary I could never even touch him. I took her while Aaron was here for Christmas. We went straight to a friend’s beach house in Viento Frio. My thinking was that it would be much easier for both of us in that isolated location than in the city and I assumed she would howl that first night, but nothing. Aaron kept asking, “Are you sure she’s not trained already?” Once we returned to the city, she did have a couple of annoying puppy days, but other that that, she has been amazing. Since I knew I was leaving the city and had heard that Panamanians in particular are afraid of ‘black dogs’…not brown or blond, but black…meaning even at less than 5 months, they typically question was “Does she bite?” I mean, she is big and her paws are what everyone always called enormous. So already a visual deterrent and soon, with training and the breed’s nature of being very protective, I think she will be better than any lock I might buy and install. And since she was offered to me so organically roughly 15 minutes after I moaned, “I want a dog!”, well I do believe we were meant for each other.

This is a very big deal to me to have a dog. I haven’t had one in over 20 years and back then, it seemed you just had a dog and that was that. At this point, it seems like an enormous amount of attention, care, time and energy. Her breed is known for their intelligence, loyalty, stamina, long life and energy. Already, she could care less about other people, but seems crazy like an addict staring at their drug of choice when it comes to playtime with other dogs. She follows me so close I keep having to move her out of the way with my legs. She sleeps next to me and never disturbs me at night. It’s nice to have a ‘Yay I’m glad you’re home greeting’ like I get from her. I don’t usually leave her long alone, but one day, I ended up detained for 7 hours. I had left her inside the house…suitcases full of clothes on the floor, boxes askew everywhere and in general, in the total disarray it can be when you’re moving and in particular, the total vulnerability of your possessions when accessible by a bored puppy. When I got back, not only was nothing destroyed, but she hadn’t even used the bathroom indoors in spite of the long time closed in. I was very impressed and appreciative and though very angry about the water main, I shunned her for a bit and now realize, it was my responsibility to cover it and protect it from her. If it’s on the ground or on the floor, my bad.

So as silly as it sounds, I’m in love with this dog as though I had had another child. I love the air, the temperature, the birds, the flowers, the creek, and most of all actually having a yard! I love being surrounded by mountains and having as much social opportunity as I want, though I don’t typically want. A little down time is in order. 2006 was one hell of a year, but I will save all that for later.

BTW…I was having no luck coming up with a name for her. Started looking at African Queen names and then for some reason, thought of the song, “Black Dog” by Led Zeppelin. So I decided it was the old ‘close enough for rock and roll’ and sh became Jimmie (feminized by the ie) Page and Page for short. (hey, hey mamma say the way you move, gonna make you sweat gonna make you groove….insert classic guitar riff preferably with air guitar)

(Note: Because I’m putting this together long after it was written, photos of Page are not all from Boquete nor at this exact age.)