22 April 2012. Sunday. I am sitting on the veranda of
our host family home in Boquete. Thank goodness the
veranda is covered, because the rain now pounding on the room sounds like the
roar of jet engine—but much louder than you would hear from row 30. We wake up
each morning to beautiful partly cloudy skies and very comfortable
temperatures. By the time we have walked
the 2 kilometers (or so) into town it is mid-morning and we are hot and
sweaty. Around noon, more or less, the
clouds have intensified, and by 1-ish it has started to rain—hard. At 4 or 5 or 6 the rain stops for the day and
the clouds begin to dissipate. Usually
there is lighting and thunder during the rain, but not a lot. When it rains, it quickly cools down and a
1,000 frogs promptly break into chorus.
That is the way it has been each day—all three since we arrived. The rainy season started about a week
ago. It will last beyond the end of our
stay.
The village of Boquete is located in western Panama
in a valley in the foothills of Volcán Barú, Panama’s highest mountain at more
than 14,000 feet. Several mountain
streams rush through the valley. It is
green and lush here (remember the rain?) with lots of trees and flowers. The bird life here is quite amazing. For instance, in all of Panama there are 51
species of hummingbird. So far we have
identified only Rufous-tailed Hummingbird and the little Garden Emerald. But we haven’t really been birding yet. We’ve just watched from the yard and as we
walk into town to explore, visit the school, and go to church. Already we have 5 “lifers” here in Panama and
another 8 along the way in Nicaragua and Costa Rica. But the birds here aren’t all strange. Yesterday we saw an Olive-sided Flycatcher
and Yellow Warbler in the same tree. In
another month or so both will probably be singing to our friends in Alaska like
they do every spring.
Señora Rivera, her daughter and grandson are our
host family. Their home is very
comfortable for us. We have our own room
with a private bathroom and entrance.
The rest of the house we share with the family. Last night we watched the Bocas Tortugas
baseball team beat the Los Santos team on national TV. I watched the umpires pretty closely. The plate umpire seemed quite good, but the
man at first base was clearly having a bad night. A batter called out at first who clearly beat
the throw, and, much worse, he called a balk that wasn’t a balk. I couldn’t understand the Spanish, but the
body language was unmistakable. After a
long and vociferous argument, including some “help” (a no-no for umpires) from
the home plate umpire, the balk was “un-called.” The two runners were returned to their
original bases and a run taken off the scoreboard. Much embarrassment for the first base umpire. Our first few days with the Roviras have been
interesting and fun. We haven’t been to
a Spanish class yet, and the Roviras will not speak English to us. But smiles, food, and baseball seem to have a
universal language. We are getting along
just fine.
