A Very Nica Christmas

“Did Santa come to your house last night?” My best friend, Jhassuha, asked. “No,” I told her, “I never left a forwarding address with him so I don’t think he knows I live in Nicaragua now.” “Ah, you’d be surprised,” she told me. “Last night around 1 in the morning, he knocked on my door asking for you. When I told him you lived up that hill, he decided to just leave the presents here. He’s really fat these days, you know.” And with that, I was handed my first Christmas presents: a fake Puma tank top, green pearl earrings to match, and a previously opened bottle of imitation Vaseline hand lotion. I couldn’t have been more pleased. Somehow, even though it was 90 degrees outside and I was already sweating at 8:30 AM, it felt like Christmas.

I spent the rest of the day handing out the small gifts I had bought in Costa Rica for my friends and received several more trinkets including a keychain and a small jewelry box covered in lace and beads. Everything I received was made in China and can be found at the Dollar Store on Maple Avenue in Vienna, but I love every last gift. I was also able to speak briefly with my family in Virginia who had set up my childhood teddy bear to fill my place as they opened presents.

My host mother, Clarissa, invited me to a lovely family lunch and we ate nacatamales, a traditional Nicaraguan food made of pork (or chicken if you’re me), with tomatoes, peppers, and onions in cornmeal all wrapped in a plantain leaf. It was a delicious way to celebrate. Her father, Don Simeon, who is basically the godfather of Boca de Sábalos, was there and I asked him how his Christmas was treating him. He told me, “Every day is pretty much the same for me.” Normally, I’d have to agree with this sentiment but for me, this was an especially good day.

Back at Jhassuha’s we watched “An Eloise Christmas” on television and the house felt very festive with the purple and yellow garlands she had hung next to several large plastic Santa’s. We played all the Christmas classics in Spanish and made dinner. As we settled down to eat and watch a pirated version of Pirates of the Caribbean, Jhassuha commented on how lucky we are to have so much. I glanced down at our plates of rice, beans, plantains, and pasta salad, took in her small, sparsely furnished, wooden house with the funny decorations, and then looked at her sitting with her baby in her lap and her husband by her side and told her, “Yes. Very lucky indeed.”

You're Ugly But I Love You

One of the main reasons I had for not going home this December was my desire to travel and see more of Central America. Most Volunteers in Nicaragua, upon finishing their service, cash in their Peace Corps-bought plane ticket home and use the money to travel back to the United States by bus, stopping in some or all of Honduras, El Salvador, Guatemala, Belize, and Mexico. Since I’ll be leaving a few weeks early in order to attend big bro Jamie’s wedding, this won’t be an option for me. So, I took advantage of December vacation time to check out a new country: Panama.

We all know that I’m type A. I like things organized and planned and could never be accurately described as one who “flies by the seat of her pants.” But for some reason, despite the presence of a Central America guide book on my wooden bookshelf, I did practically no planning for this trip whatsoever. I brought the guide book with me to Managua to show it to my traveling companions but Jessica promptly lost it and it became a joke that we are such seasoned Central Americans, we have no need for frivolities like guide books. And so, without definite plans, tourist information, bus tickets, or fear of the unknown, four of us headed to Panama in mid-December.

Miraculously, we made it there a day later. Our friend Lara had highly recommended the archipelago of Bocas del Toro right across from the Costa Rican border on the Atlantic Coast, so that was our first stop. And our only stop. We loved it so much, we never wanted to leave. So, we didn’t. We just spent our entire vacation visiting different islands in the archipelago, taste-testing the different Panamanian beers (I choose Atlas), eating great food, and soaking up the Caribbean Panamanian culture.

The beaches were gorgeous: white sand and turquoise water. My 25th birthday was spent in a virtual Corona ad (but make it Atlas). Our only obstacle was opening our beers without the aid of a bottle opener. Palm tree bark is too soft to hold the top against and merely bang it off, so we set up an elaborate assembly line: Jessica and I held up the large piece of driftwood with rusty nails poking out, Aimee positioned the bottle with the top just-so over said rusty nail, and Ibert banged the tops off with a coconut. It was a ridiculous scene, something straight out of Survivor and perfect fodder for “how many Peace Corps Volunteers does it take…” jokes (hardy har har) but in the end, we got our beers open and felt an enormous sense of accomplishment. Guide books and bottle openers are for beginners and novices.

One of my main concerns about staying in Central America over the holidays was that it wouldn’t feel like Christmas. Well, no need for that preoccupation in Bocas del Toro. Their small central park was bursting with Christmas cheer. There was a large tree with wrapped presents underneath, gobs of lights covering every square inch of the park, and tinsel arches over every entrance. In the United States, a park decorated like this would come off as tacky, here it was simply endearing. Every day we came back to our hotel, the Panamanian owner was putting up more ribbons, more lights, or more tinsel. On our third night, there was a huge town parade complete with a Santa throwing out candy to all the kids (and us)! I’m not sure you can find this much holiday cheer anywhere else on the planet.

And we loved all the Panamanians we met. We never felt like anyone was out to swindle us, there were no children begging for money, and no men hissing at us on the streets; just really friendly people with beautiful Caribbean accents. The only exception occurred on our last night. As we were walking out to a sushi restaurant, a drunken man stopped me on the street, pointed his finger in my face and told me in English, “You’re ugly but I love you.” But really, because he ended on such a sweet note, could I honestly be offended by the first part? No, no, we loved all the Panamanians we met and apparently they loved us too, despite our ugly countenance.

So, Panama was amazing or at least the part of it that we saw and I highly recommend Bocas del Toro to anyone looking for a new vacation spot. Just don’t plan on going anywhere else in Panama because you won’t want to leave the archipelago.