One of the things that I love best about Panama is how easy it is to make friends. When you meet other expats, you already have something in common. After all, you're both living in a foreign country. 

Since living in Panama eliminates people who are afraid of change or who don't like adventure, you're already with a like group of people. The next step is easy. It doesn't matter if you meet someone at the pool, walking your dog, or just because you're seated next to each other at a restaurant... if you both speak English, it's perfectly natural to start a conversation. 

There is so much to talk about with other expats. We compare pricing of basic services, we discus favorite restaurants, and we bring up interesting solutions to unexpected problems. It's very common to talk about what things cost with someone you just met. This is unheard of in my circle of friends in the States. I would never ask someone how much they paid for their car or what they pay their maid. Here it's a matter of courtesy. We're all living in a new culture, so finding out how much it costs to get a decent used car can be a godsend. Asking what a friend pays for a maid isn't being nosy, but rather it's giving you valuable information.

Aside from meeting other expats by chance, you can join activities you're interested in, just like you would at home. I belong to an expat dinner group, an expat book club, and an expat networking group. Not only have I made friends from the US, but I've also made friends from all over the world, some of whom I'll stay friends with for a very long time.

If you're worried about not having any friends in Panama, don't be. Making friends with other expats in Panama is so easy that within a few months, your social calendar will be overflowing with social engagements. 

I've had the power go out before. Who hasn't? But I've never been in a country-wide power outage. And I've never been smack in the middle of a jail when the power went out.

In order to get residency in Panama, you have to have a police report (make that an FBI report if you're from the U.S.). But the first step in the process is to get fingerprinted. 

If you know you're going to be a resident before you come to Panama, you can easily have this done at home. Otherwise, you'll be traipsing down to the main police station in Panama City, like myself and two girlfriends did. It's important to note that the two women I went to the police station with are two very thin girly-girls from North America. Even dressed down, the three of us stood out like rednecks at a debutante ball. 

We were waiting behind a handcuffed convict to go into the fingerprint room when the power went out. The convict actually didn't look dangerous, just intoxicated. In the minute it took for the generators to power up, I experienced real fear. What if the power outage caused the jail doors to open? What if an a convict (who wasn't just a drunk) escaped and took a Gringa as a hostage? I'd always thought there was safety in numbers, but I realized that's a fallacy unless your numbers include big, buff guys who know martial arts. (Note to self... the next time I go to the police station, take bigger friends.)

The generators kicked on and the Panamanian police couldn't have been nicer. We got what we needed and left without incident, thinking the power outage had only been in the police station. We returned back to my neighborhood and went to a restaurant I've been wanting to try for a late lunch. The restaurant was open, but the host indicated that the power was off and they weren't serving food. Since he was talking to us in Spanish and none of us speak Spanish very well, we thought he said that the entire city of Panama was without power. What we lack in language skills we make up in the ability to read body language. Thank you, Charades!

Still hungry, we walked across the street to one of the many casinos, knowing that they had to have backup generators. Yes, they did, but cash was at stake and they weren't letting anyone in. My Coronado friends decided to call it a day and drive back to Coronado. All the traffic lights were out, and traffic was already getting bad so I walked home. I walk a lot in  my neighborhood, and I know the pedestrian traffic patterns at all hours of the day. The streets were crowded with office workers in suits. Although this is typical in a place like Manhattan, it's unusual for Panama City in the middle of the afternoon. The full streets confirmed our interpretation of what the host at the restaurant had said... the power was out and people were going home.

It only took 10 minutes to walk home, and each condo I passed had the deafening roar of diesel-powered generators. The combined noise of all the generators made the city sound like the tarmac of an airport. Most summer days in Panama are quite nice because the humidity is down. The day of the power outage was an exception. It was the most humid day in months. As I walked home, I wondered if I'd have to walk up 15 flights of stairs to my apartment. And more importantly, would my apartment still be cool or would I have to spend the afternoon in the pool? There are worse ways to spend an afternoon, especially if I still had ice cubes to put in my rum punch.

Being slightly deaf after walking past my condo's generators, I communicated with the security guard on duty through sign language. He gave me a thumbs-up sign. I asked if the elevators were working, and he said yes. Hmmm. Did he really understand what I asked? I entered the elevators with trepidation. It's not that I feared the confined space of getting caught in the elevator for five hours, but I feared melting into a puddle of sweat if I got caught in an elevator without air conditioning. I took a breath and took the risk. Anything to avoid climbing 15 flights of stairs in my long maxi dress. I got on the elevator and pressed the button for the fifteenth floor. I didn't exhale until I stepped out onto my floor. Whew! I made it!

I walked into my apartment, and the air conditioner was working normally. Not only that, all of my electronics were on and charging. God bless generators. I had full power; life in my condo was perfectly normal. 

I found out later that two transformers had gone down, causing the country-wide power outage. The power was out a total of about 5 hours. I have to say I was impressed. I've lost power for longer periods of time in the U.S. 

For those who think Panama is a third-world country, think again. Aside from missing  lunch with my friends, the power outage didn't affect my life at all. Darn! I was looking forward to a lazy afternoon lolling in the pool with an adult beverage. 

I have to admit it... this is the happiest blog I've ever written. You see, I grew up in the era of suntans, when sun bronzed skin was revered above all else. Having the type of skin that is literally un-tannable, I could never get any color other than unattractive red.

The nice kids called me Caspar (as in Caspar the friendly ghost). The mean kids said things like, "You're so white!" And trust me, it wasn't a compliment. 

My roommate in college had the most amazing naturally tanned skin, and there were many times when it was hard to be her friend. On spring break in Palm Springs one year, I was determined to get a tan... but my face ended up looking like a swollen porcupine when I got sun poisoning instead. That's when I gave up on being brown.

Several days ago, I was visiting a new property in Panama city, and another very light-skinned woman said, "We need to get out of the sun, or we're going to lose our exotic whiteness." Wow, I'd been called a lot of things before, but exotically white? Yep, Caspar could get used to this change in nickname.

Ladies, for those of you who suffered as a child because of your whiteness, let me tell you what being exotically white means in Panama. It means that people will stare at you like you're a movie star. It means that you'll get declarations of love from perfect strangers. It means that you'll get preferential treatment in stores and restaurants. 

If I had realized as a child how much better my life would have been as a whitey with freckles in Panama, I probably would have packed my bags and moved to Panama at the age of 10. Yes, every dog has its day, and that day is today for this whitey.


Just in case you're curious, I haven't thrown away my self-tanner, though. Being exotically white is one thing. Glowing in the dark is something completely different.

Italians get easy residency in Panama due to a Treaty of Friendship from 1966. Why do you care? Because with Italians come great Italian food. Mmmm. And that's just one more reason to love Panama.

Italian restaurants are plentiful all over Panama. A good wood-oven baked pizza was difficult to find in Dallas, but luckily for me, it's available on every block in Panama. With fabulous pizzas starting at about $7, you will never go hungry for great pizza again.

Not only is the pizza baked in a real wood-burning stone oven, but the ingredients are really Italian. The proscuitto and parmesan cheese are imported, giving every dish a truly authentic flavor. But that's just the start. 

My favorite Tuscan restaurant in Panama City, Roma Antica, has a Wild Boar Lasagna that will make you weep with ecstasy.  Not only is the pasta made from scratch, but it's baked in the same wood oven for a rich smoky taste that you can't get with a gas or electric oven. The pasta sauces are just as light and delicate here as they are in Northern Italy.

You probably won't have to look very hard at the picture to notice a mostly-empty bottle of wine. Unlike the US, you can get relatively inexpensive wine at most restaurants. Plan on a bottle starting at about the $20 range. 

No matter what your favorite Italian indulgence, you will have trouble choosing a favorite among the many spectacular choices. The fabulous Italian food is definitely in my Top 3 reasons for loving Panama. I'd tell you more but I need my hands to reach for another slice of pizza.

Before I came to Panama, I couldn't fathom the thought of a maid living with me full-time. I thought it was an invasion of privacy.

I shared my thoughts on live-in domestic help with a friend from South Africa before I came to Panama. He said, "Melissa you will love you maid in Panama, and when you have to come back to the States, you will miss her most of all." I had no idea how right he would be! 

I had a wonderful cleaning service in Dallas that vacuumed, dusted and mopped... but nothing compares to domestic help in Panama. My maid currently comes once per week, which I thought would be adequate for just me and my two little dogs, but I am already yearning for a full-time maid. You see, maids here do more than sweep the floors and clean the bathrooms. 

Aside from general cleaning, my maid strips my bed every week and washes every piece of clothing in the laundry room. She washes my dishes, and if I'm going to be perfectly honest, I'll admit that I stop washing my own dishes on Thursday, knowing she'll wash them on Saturday. She cleans  my balcony from top to bottom, and polishes the windows to a sparkling shine. She even cooks my food. 


This week, I was unfortunate enough to step in doggie doo-doo and left my yucky sandals in the utility sink. She scrubbed them to sparkling perfection. She spends 7-8 hours every Saturday in my apartment, and I pay her $35 per day. 


My friends who have full-time maids tell me their maids go grocery shopping, prepare all of the meals, walk the dogs, get the kids ready for school, and do all of the miscellaneous errands of running a house. My friend Tracy even took her maid to her beauty salon so the maid could learn to blow dry Tracy's hair. Tracy works out at lunch, washes her hair after work, and then has her maid blow dry her hair to perfection. In the evening when Tracy goes out, she sparkles with that salon-beautiful perfection that most of us get only once a month from our stylist. 


Domestic help in Panama is so inexpensive that many families with one child have two maids, and families with multiple kids have an entourage of help. I always find it amusing when a perfectly coiffed woman is walking in the mall, trailed by a nanny who is taking care of the child and a maid who is carrying the packages.


No matter how you feel about domestic help in the U.S. or Canada, your feelings will change once you get here. Inexpensive and all-inclusive domestic help is on every Westerner's "Top 3" reasons to love Panama.


 

In the U.S., good restaurants book up weeks in advance for Valentine's Day, no matter what day of the week it falls. But in Panama, people know it's Valentine's Day... but it's overshadowed by Mardi Gras. 

Mardi Gras festivities start the Friday before Fat Tuesday... and last through 1 p.m. on the Wednesday AFTER Mardi Gras. Even if you're bad at math, it doesn't take a sober person to figure out that's almost a week of intense partying. Every night during Mardi Gras, fireworks start going off at midnight and continue throughout the night. People drink local beer like it's water. Restaurants and banks are closed. And some of the main roads are closed to accommodate the tens of thousands of party-goers. (I can tell you from experience that this is great for pedestrians, but bad for driver's who happen to live on a closed road.)

Poor St. Valentine had the bad luck of timing. This year, Valentine's Day happened to be on the day after the Mardi Gras debauchery---er, celebration--ended. Remembering Valentine's Day after a week-long holiday is like a chipmunk trying to wrestle a gorilla... it's not a fair fight. 

The exhausted, hung-over locals might pick up a wilted bouquet of flowers or give their sweetheart a box of chocolates, but it's not the pomp and circumstance that it is in the States. In fact, the only Valentine's Day advertisement I've seen is for the Bennigan's Restaurant that is 200 feet from my condo building. Unlike American Valentine's Day events of overpriced multi-course meals, the Panama Bennigan's was advertising discounted dinner specials. That's how you know that Valentine's Day in Panama is a non sequitur... since when does Valentine's Day need a discount to draw diners.

If you want a diamond tennis bracelet, be sure to get it in America because the Panamanians would rather give diamonds in the sky as they shoot off fireworks all night long for Mardi Gras. St. Valentine, don't worry though. I'm sure couples felt your cupid's arrow during Mardi Gras.

It's every Westerner's greatest fear. You go to a Latin American country, and you get pulled over by the police for doing something illegal... even though you didn't realize you were doing anything wrong. 

Since living in Panama, I've become very laissez-faire about traffic cops. The traffic rules here are more suggestions than black and white laws, and I am not as crazy of a driver as the locals. Even though I've driven the wrong way on one-way streets, backed up on the on-ramp to a freeway (okay, I was a passenger in the car for this one), and flipped a u-turn in areas that were not made for u-turns, everything has been "no problem."

There is one thing I have learned about driving in Panama that is "muy importante"....be extra careful on holiday weekends. A gringo acquaintance of mine was pulled over on a holiday weekend. Even though he'd been drinking water for almost 2 hours before driving, he had to bribe his way out of a DUI to the tune of $300. 

Knowing this, I spent the Saturday on Mardi Gras weekend at Playa Bonita, enjoying free drinks and making new friends. My Latin sweetheart knew he had to drive and spent the day drinking water. (He's a much better person than I am!) Leaving the Playa Bonita resort, we were pulled over at a permanent checkpoint ... one that I usually breeze through because of my Gringa face. The cop asked for the standard license and registration, but my Brazilian sweetheart had left his passport and drivers license in Panama City. The cop knew my boyfriend was sober, but I'm sure the cop was thinking about rent or buying beer for his friends or perhaps sending his kids to college. Whatever the motivation, he asked my boyfriend to step out of the car and took him across the street, where he had to sit in a hard plastic chair. 

It's important to note at this point in my blog-story that I barely speak Spanish, the cop didn't speak English, and although my boyfriend looks like a Southern California boy, his only fluent language is Portuguese. That alone would make any negotiation very difficult, but I knew it had to work in our favor as a bribe was about to be sought.

Taking the language barrier into account, this is what I think happened. The cop threatened to tow the car and send us all to jail. He said he could make it go away for a mere $60. That actually would have been fine had we been in possession of $60 cash, but as soon as we were pulled over, we looked at each other and compared our cash situation. I had a $5 bill and he had two $1 bills. Seven dollars does not a good bribe make. Hmmm. That's where my Brazilian sweetheart's "street dog" instinct kicked in.

He told the cop that we didn't have $60, but we would give him $50--but the money was in the car. The cop agreed to a $50 "fee" and let him get back in the car before coming around to my side of the car to collect his bribe. I knew none of this at the time, but I didn't need a medium to tell me that I'd have to give up my last $5 before the night was over. I had it clutched in my hand, ready to give it to the greedy cop. After all, I'd had free drinks all day and this was all part of the day's entertainment.

When my sweetheart was belted back in the car, he rolled down my window and said, "Drop cash." This was a bit of an inside joke because he'd taught my dog to "drop ball" in one day after I'd spent an entire year trying to get her to do the exact same thing. And even after he'd taught her to drop the darn ball, she wouldn't do it for me because she understood his accented English better than my perfect English. Oh, but I digress at the best part of the story.

I have never been party to a bribe before, so when my sweetheart told me to "drop cash" I thought that's how bribes were done. I crumpled the $5 bill in my hand and dropped it out the window. The bill had no sooner left my hand when we were peeling out of the checkpoint. I didn't understand the hurry, until my boyfriend explained that we had beaten the cops at their own shakedown. 

I laughed so hard all the way back to my apartment that tears were rolling down my face. But when I told a friend of mine the story, he was worried that the cops would have my photo and description of my car at the checkpoint, ready to pull me over the next time I drove through. I just laughed again. Even though bribery is much more common here than in the U.S., it's still not technically legal. The cops aren't going to run the risk of exposure by harassing a sweet innocent Gringa. (Now it's your turn not to laugh!)

Knowing that cops might expect a bribe, here's a quick guide on what to do if you're pulled over.

• Always carry a valid drivers license from your country of residence and a photocopy of your passport. Show these documents when asked.
• Don't worry if you don't speak Spanish. This can work in your favor.
  
• Keep a $20 bill in your passport, just in case you were doing something bad. You can always ask, "Can I take care of the fine now?" The $20 will often do the trick.
  
• Never try to bribe a female cop.
• Keep the phone number of a good Panamanian attorney on your speed dial... just in case you really were doing something bad! If you need one, I can recommend a few.

All in all, I feel like a true native of Panama now. If you're laughing along with me, Panama might be a great place for you.

If the thought of working out leaves your thighs quaking like tapioca, picture working out in Panama. There is something about the magnificent views and endless sunshine that makes working out... fun. Yes, you read that correctly. Working out in Panama is much more fun than working out at home. Here's why.

The View. It's hard not to feel motivated when you're looking at a spectacular vista like this. And don't forget the view next to the pool. The perfect weather make bikinis and swim trunks much more abundant, not to mention more interesting.

The Weather. Year-round weather that ranges from mid-70s to low-90s makes working out more palatable. Plus, the weather brings out a desire for less clothing, which makes you want to make the effort to workout. 

The Abundance of Things to Do
There are a lot of outdoor activities to keep you moving if working out in the gym isn't your thing. Whether you choose to go zip lining through the jungle canopy, golfing on one of the many golf courses, kayaking on a river, surfing in the ocean, or just taking your best friend--4-legged or otherwise--for a long walk on the beach, you won't run out of active things to do. 

Don't worry if your body isn't bathing suit ready, Panama can help fix that. Almost every Westerner I know loses weight here. Maybe it's because the weather promotes a more active lifestyle. Maybe it's because the food is fresher and you're eating fewer preservatives. Maybe it's because you have less stress in your life. Whatever the reason, Panama is the best place to implement a realistic workout regimen that you'll actually enjoy. And if nothing else, you'll enjoy the view when you watch other people workout.