..let me ‘splain. It all started this afternoon when I decided
to get Taco Bell for dinner (due to cravings for the last several months). I wasn’t too worried about getting there
early because 1. I wasn’t very hungry and 2. I figured it would be just a quick
cab ride or walk there and back. So at
around 6 pm I look up Taco Bell Panama in Google maps and it turns out that the
closest one is in the Albrook Mall which is not within walking distance unless
you are walking for exercise. However, I
remembered that there is a free transfer from the Albrook Mall to my hotel at
around 8 o’clock. Great. I could take a cab, get Taco Bell, and still
have plenty of time to catch the shuttle.
So at around 6:30 (I’m ashamed to
admit after getting distracted by Bachelor Pad) I headed down to the lobby to
verify that the transfer will be running.
The receptionist told me yes it will, but I will need to call at around
7:30 to make sure. I said ok and headed
out to find a cab. Quickly a cab
stopped, I asked how much it would cost, the cabbie told me 2 dollars, and I
hopped in. The cab ride was longer than
I anticipated (things look so close on google maps), but I appreciated being
inside because it was raining out.
I got to the mall and saw a large
electronics store in the parking lot.
Remembering that I had to pick up an HDMI cable for Nata, I decided to
go there first. After a little walk, I
got inside and started a very interesting shopping experience. I looked around a little and found something
I liked for myself but decided to pick up the cable first. I asked where they were and a worker walked
me over there. I decided on a Philips
cable (ironically enough the same brand as the MRI machine that sealed my fate
of coming to Panama. Well actually it
was the stones that machine found in my bile duct that did the fate sealing,
but that is beside the point). However,
in this store you can’t just take the item to the cash register yourself. The purchase request has to be entered into a
computer and the item is delivered to the pick-up counter by a worker. Ok, that’s weird, but this is Latin
America. I continued over to where I
found the item for myself, and went to pick it up. I had second thoughts about whether this was
permitted due to the cable incident, but this item wasn’t tied down or
anything. Then I went over to the corner
counters that said “caja.” While queuing
I had this feeling that holding an item in that store was wrong, but no one
came up to stop me. Finally, it was my
turn to pay. I went up to the window,
place my item on the counter, and was immediately told that I need to get a “factura”
for my item from one of the floor workers.
Ok, my instinct was right even though it went against all of my U.S.
electronic shopping experiences. So I
returned to the area where I got the item and found a worker to enter it into
the computer. I then went once more to
the register area. I paid for the items
and was then directed to another counter that said “entrega” to pick them
up. While trying to leave the store my
exit path was blocked by an inflatable green robot that I’m pretty sure had a
person inside, but I weaved my way around and got out hoping to never have to
shop electronics like that again.
So now it was around 7 o’clock and
I headed back through the parking lot to the mall. I entered the mall and was immediately
surprised by its size, amount of bright colors, and safari them. I now started walking in search of Taco
Bell. After walking at least 10 minutes
and seeing almost every other fast-food restaurant I still hadn’t encountered
Taco Bell. I began to feel
disappointed. I had gone all the way
there just for Taco Bell, and by golly I was going to eat Taco Bell. I finally arrived, almost hopeless, at what I
thought was the end of the mall. Then
suddenly there was a bend and a whole other stretch of mall appeared before
me. The whole new section was even
bigger than the one I had just walked that was larger than my mall back home. With new hope and a slightly sore abdomen I
kept going. Finally, after another ten
minutes and passing by at least two more Subways, I found a legitimate food
court with carousel and all. What was in
that food court? Taco Bell!
I found the nearest stairs and
headed down (after one trip around the bottom floor of the first half of the
mall I had headed upstairs in hopes it was there). I excitedly walked up to the Taco Bell
counter and ordered a two chalupa supreme meal that included French fries and a
Pepsi. Thinking I had plenty of time
ordered it “para aca (for here).” When
the order for Chola (no one can ever understand my name) was ready I grabbed
it, some mild sauce, and ketchup and looked for an empty table. This was a difficult task because in any food
court in central America that I have been to it is unheard of to take your own
tray to the trash. Instead they are left
on the table where a worker picks it up and throws it away for you. I finally found one near Dunkin’ Donuts and
sat down. Just before squirting out a
pack of ketchup for my fries I decided I should call the hotel to confirm the
transfer. It was about 7:30. I called and was told that it would be
leaving soon (in about 5 minutes) from the Zebra entrance.
I quickly realized that I needed
to go back to the Taco Bell counter and get a to-go (para llevar) bag and rush
to the shuttle. While walking through
the mall I had noticed signs with giraffes, rhinos, tigers, and elephants, but
I hadn’t noticed any zebra pictures near the exits, so I figured it must be in
the end of the mall I hadn’t walked to yet.
While walking I began to feel like I was wrong. After a few minutes I stopped at a kiosk to
ask. The female worker told me with a
hopeless look “I’m sorry honey, but it’s far away. At least a 20 minute walk. (loosely
translated)” I thanked her and decided
that this, of all times, was the time for my Shona-luck needed to kick in. 20 minutes?
I could do better.
I was off - rushing through the
mall at a speed much faster than anyone, who had gallbladder surgery less than
a week ago and two days ago walked about as slow as a turtle, should go. I wasn’t actually speed walking, but I still
felt like a few stitches were at risk of ripping. I just had to make it to that shuttle. I did not want to pay another 2 dollar taxi
ride when there was a free shuttle so close.
I kept going and less than 10 minutes later
rounded a corner and saw a sign with a striped animal that said cebra. Thank goodness! I might have made it. I quickly exited and did not see a
shuttle. Of course, not wanting to seem
guilty for missing it I called the hotel and said “I’m here and the shuttle
hasn’t passed by.” I was told that it
would come very soon. So of course, in
my own little Shona world, even though there were other people waiting outside I
thought that they probably asked for a little shuttle just for me because no
one else was going.
I waited for 5-10 more minutes and
finally a mini-bus pulled up and was immediately crowded by people. Of course this was the bus I needed. I got on and found a seat but heard that my
hotel would be the last stop. I
remembered my chalupas and realized that I had to eat them or they would get
cold. So I ate them right there in a
jam-packed shuttle where nobody else was eating, and they were delicious!
After a tour of the city that passed
by nearly every hotel in the downtown area, I arrived at my hotel with a 360
degree achy torse and legs and the satisfaction that my Shona-luck driven by being “pinche
(cheap)” had prevailed.
I re-learned tonight how my
expectations are usually so utterly incorrect.
Why should one of three malls in Panama City, Panama not be huge and not
have moving sidewalks like the airport? Why
would the one restaurant I was looking for have suddenly left the mall? Why shouldn’t Taco Bell serve French fries as
a side instead of a small Taco? Why
should I be the only person wanting a free hotel transfer? And why can’t a chalupa taste just as good in
a mini-bus in Panama as sitting in a restaurant in the states?
One more victorious yet tiring and
slightly stressful outing = that much closer to being a successfully confident
world traveler.
