Getting lost in Panamania

It´s not even been 2 weeks since I left Iowa, and so much is happened. I´ve now moved in with a wonderful family, who I understand %30 of the time. I´ve visited a peace corps volunteer in the Darien province, and I don´t detest coffee. Oh yeah and I´ve had officials in 5 panamanian cities looking for me.

This probably will take some explaining, and I may leave out some details in interest of time, but you can probably fill in the blanks and make a more interesting story. For my spanish class yesterday, we went to a nearby city to buy some supplies, and run some errands. A big group went on buses using the diablos rojos, the Panamanian super cheap way to travel. No one paid attention to how we got there, and when we all got off the bus we broke into smaller groups to see the city. I stopped to buy my machete, my do-all weapon of choice for the next 2 years, and when I turned around all my gringo friends were gone. I went outside and I saw a busy panamanian street but no Otro gringos. I waited for a while, before deciding that if I didn´t do something, I was going to miss the afternoon session, and set off a read alert that Peace Corps had lost a trainee. We hadn´t discussed leaving the city at all, only how to get there, and a basic outline of what we were going to do there. Maybe this was our first Spanish test, drop us off in a city, and if we get back to training, we pass. I felt safe the whole time because I was, in comparison a giant person walking around with a giant machete. I asked a man what bus i needed to get on to get back to Sta. Clara, my training comunity. Conveniently, it was the bus he was in front of taking money for. I was apprehensive and confirmed that the bus was going to Sta. Clara, and I´d get there just in time for class. Well apparently there are at least 5 Sta. Clara´s in Panama, and I ended up 1.5 hours away from where I needed to be. I´d faild my first spanish class. I took a bus back and was able to call my superior, but I´d already set off the alarm that a trainee was missing. I arrived in a nearby city and was running to another bus-stop ... in the rain... with my machete in hand. Somehow I attracted the attention of a police officer who stopped me by yelling my name. He told me my coordinator was looking for me, in spanish, so it took him a couple of times for it to sink in. I waited at the police station for my training coordinator to find me.

This is an isolated incident, and I am very safe and have been the whole time, but this was the climax of a very eventful week.

more to come