Taxicab confessions

When you feel down, he sends Angels. It's just plain and simple when you have a deep relationship with God. 

Walking from the third police station back to the hostel to get my bag was only a few minutes. Of course I was thankful for this as I did not want to accept a ride from the police officer after I was trying to make a statement about the injustice. 

Arriving back to the hostel, my plan was to grab my bag and head directly to the airport. 4 hours early? No problem. I just wanted to go home for the first time on the trip. You experience problems and you seek comfort. 

Outside in front there was a guy sleeping in his cab, I banged at his window a few times(not very considerate, but business is business). He gives me a ride for $20, which is $10 less than the usual fare. Clearly he sensed my aggravation and he was the person to listen to it all. 

Talking to him felt like talking to an insightful therapist or psychologist. He had such insight into his own culture and the behaviors presented. He said some people are just completely ignorant while some people are nice-it really is case by case. While this whole good people and bad people thing is true, the cases proved themselves more than a few times- at least ten. This waitress at the restaurant who completely snubbed me and helped all the locals- this was real and happening in front of me. He did confirm my belief that Panama is discriminatory against Americans or to specify- does not like female backpackers. 

As he kept listening and responding, I realized this was all coming from personal experience. He was a therapist on his job while driving in the car. This was his profession too: listening to people's, problems and stories. He comforted, gave reassurance, and was helpful. Everything he did for me worked. He calmed me down, listened, validated my opinions, and thoughts. All his quotes and life references, it all successfully worked. 

When I informed him that there was a show in USA called "Taxicab Confessions", he could not believe it.  It was his idea to go move to New York and start taping. Taxicab driver really are therapists. It's a space where many people open up about their life and feelings. People know they will never see this person again so why not let it all out? 

This taxi driver was also religious and quoted some scripture. He made me feel hopeful and be more optimistic about my interactions with the Panama culture. As we were driving in the airport, there was some Bryan Adams song playing. The lyrics matched exactly what he said, it was a total "aha" moment. 

              This was IT

It was the end of the trip and this man was sitting and reassuring me of the beauty of people. His whole mission the taxi ride was to make me happy.

Mission accomplished! 

Don't Cry for Me Colombia

It was a sad day leaving Colombia and I was pushing my time to the maximum.

Seconds and minutes were passing and I was shopping or talking to someone or taking my sweet time at breakfast.  I said bye to all the staff as my usual routine. The front desk was the most difficult to leave and the breakfast staff-just adored them. The taxi had come on time as I was prepared to miss my flight. If I did, would it be so bad?  I guess staying at a fantastic hotel helps anyone's interpretation of a city, but this city is spectacular: great shopping, great nightlife , fun and good looking people, great energy, great dancing, excellent food. It's a country that I knew I would love in a continent that ranks in my heart as one of the best. It's a place to visit again and again and enjoy yourself and immerse in the culture.




So happy to make this trip for my 30th birthday.

Eating sushi, Peruvian food, and typical food for breakfast-I did not get a chance to eat at the pricey Mondongo's. It's basically a pricier version of local food you can have half price. The waiters I made friends with were waiting for me, but I just ran out of time. Literally I was going around the hotel saying bye to all the staff- making my usual runs. Going around so fast that I misplaced my Colombia gold leaf necklace I bought in the gift shop- quite expensive. I left on a positive note and was thankful for spending my 30th birthday in Medellin. 

God bless Medellin, Colombia! Te amo!!!

 

God bless Medellin, Colombia! Te amo!!!

 

Lemon Tree

All good things must come to an end and that is what happened at Hard Rock. Three days of amazing food, swimming, staff, relaxation-I truly did not want to leave, but hotels go on and on. 

The next destination was in one of the best areas of Panama, which was right near the Mega Plaza-the huge shopping mall. This was not exciting, but the area was adorable. It reminded me of a Gauthier in Morocco or a Beverly Hills in California. It was super posh with cafes, bakeries, an Arabic restaurant, Spanish restaurant, and various sushi spots. This is clearly where the rich people are hanging out and I could tell by how they were dressed-nice, but not impressed. It’s just money and you need to detach from it.

Again, I struck gold with this hotel.  I mean can I really complain about Panama attitude when I have these great experiences?

This hotel was small with only 10 rooms. It was full with a few Colombian girls, a few Americans, and a couple business men.

The room felt cozy and was well decorated like a room at home. The bed was super comfortable and the air was blowing cold(important in Central America). The breakfast was included in the $ 20. It’s funny when you go from $$$$ to $.

At the front desk sat Alfredo, a friendly, chubby Colombian guy. He became my new friend who I would share candy with and talk about life in Colombia.  His life was a difficult one with his ex-wife taking custody of their daughter. It’s hard for him to go back to Colombia because he is always working the graveyard shift. Despite missing his daughter terribly, he still has that smiling shining on his face. 

After excellent sleep (3 nights in a row), I would wake up to a breakfast of pancakes, peanut butter, nutella, eggs, coffee, and fresh fruit. I would sit and watch CNN with the newspaper and then I would head to the church.  This was the routine each day for three days.

On the second day, I met with the co-owner.  It was him, his brother, and his mother who turned their house into a hotel. It was a recent hotel only open for two years. His mother and sister were the designers as one can tell the rooms have extra racks and hooks for clothing. The rooms are extremely accommodating.

Unfortunately, their hotel was sitting right next to a construction site. This was the common site that doesn’t get things done on time. They are constantly standing around with nothing to do. It’s quite a sad case because the hotel had to tear their nice patio down because the scaffold was falling into their space. When you look at this construction building, it looks like none of it is finished. They started over a year ago and they have another year to go.

This is definitely bad for business especially when this is such a great hotel.  The owner is clearly frustrated in his voice, but he tries to remain optimistic.  He’s a nice guy, his brother his arrogant, and his girlfriend is dressed like a princess. In other words, he is a sincere, nice person and I wish the best for this small boutique hotel. There needs to be more places like this one. 

                  Buh Bye Panama

Panama Border Abuse

Before we reached the border, it was unclear what we needed. I knew we needed $20, but I had read online that you needed to have proof of your income. When I asked everyone, they said "No" you usually don't need that." "It's okay don't worry about it." Perhaps I should have been worrying about it. I had no credit card because I left in the machine and all I had was cash. When I checked my online amount through my Venezuelan buddy's phone, everything was there and the card was not used. There was no way to save that page on his phone as he was using it. 


When we got to the dirty, dark border at 10pm, we had to take our suit cases out for inspection, fill out our forms, and get in line. At that moment I thought, I would much rather just take a plane. We stood in line and I couldn't see what was happening. When I got to the front with a female officer, she looks at my passport and looks at me.


"Where's your credit card?" Customs
" Well it went missing in Costa Rica just this morning." Pris


"Oh I see."


She is talking to the unconcerned, blank faced officers behind her saying she is missing a card.
She looks at me, "It looks like you are not going to Panama young lady."


"What? Isn't there something else I can do?
"No. Next."


I walk up to the next window and ask the guy sitting at the desk if I can show him a proof by bank statement.


This took five minutes because I was being completely ignored with no recognition of my presence. I asked the guy at the desk-no response, the man to the left-no response, the man standing in front of me finally responded.


"Go print it out and come back with it."


Thankfully, there is a wifi café and I go to log on to the website. Citibank is security enabled where it only lets you log on from foreign locations with proper security information.  I had pulled it up and I asked her if I could print it.


Another unhelpful girl said, "Yes, it's ready to print."


I printed it, logged out, and walked toward the front.


"No, it didn't come through the system go print it again."


This was not going to happen because I could not log on again to a foreign computer without my card number.  This was tragic as this was my only hope...so I thought. I asked everyone where there was wifi so I could pull it up on my phone. "No wifi." "No wifi."


I walk back by the bus and at this point I am really upset. I am borderline panic attack and my Venezuelan friends are calming me down and trying to figure out a solution. 


Out of nowhere comes this truck driver who says,
"Come on I'm going to help you. Come with me."
He is completely comforting and telling me to not worry because we will find a solution. I am still crying thinking about having to stay there overnight and the bus leaving without me with just $20 in my pocket.(This was end of trip the dollars were all gone).


He keeps telling me to calm down, it will be okay. He said, " I know there is another internet café that has wifi." He knows this after I asked ten people who could not tell me this. We go upstairs and the guy lets me use the Wifi, I pull it up, and I am breathing again. He is still comforting me and being beyond nice.  God sends angels.


Feeling confident and relieved, I walk up to the front to show the guy the paper. Again, they are not listening and ignoring me. I said, "Please I'm just in transit to Panama to go back home." I had the itinerary showing my flight and they knew this already.  The man from the desk is looking at me and "shaking his head." The other guy is sitting and laughing. This does not look good to me.
Were they going to let me through or what?
They wanted $750 in my account and I had over $1000. There was no problem at all with the money.  The problem was just with them and their complete discriminatory behavior towards me. When it came to all the locals going in, they were perfectly nice to them.


If I had given them attitude or done something wrong, I would definitely understand this behavior. This just made no sense.


Finally, the guy in front of me looks at it for a few minutes.
"No, you're not coming into this country."
"But I have the money that you want and I did what you told me to do."
"Did you hear what I said "No."
"But the balance is fine. It's right here."
 
They go back and sit down and completely ignore me. At this point, I'm tearing up and shaking my head. I've got to stay at this border and then catch another bus to Panama with $20? There is no way that is going to happen.  There is no Western Union here to get money.  I had planned to get money right when we crossed the border or even at a stop. 


I ask them kindly, "Is there something else I can try and do for you? My bus is leaving soon and I'm going to miss it."


They are laughing, "You can miss it because you are staying here."


The bus drivers are standing there with their hands on their hips and their hands up in the air.
"What's going on?" They were not friendly and I'm sure they were hoping I missed the bus I paid $65 dollars for.  So, what does a girl do to get what she wants with a man? She cries.


There I am crying and saying, "Please I just want to go home. I'm not going to stay in your country."


They are ignoring me AGAIN and I keep saying the same thing until the guy comes over. He looks again and says, "How do I know this statement is real?"


"This is my name, Priscilla Raj, and the statement and date is right there and that is the balance."
"Oh I see the balance. I was looking in the wrong place."


I had pointed it out five times. 


Finally, he sits down and starts doing paperwork. 

He looks up and says, "Just let her go."


And that is what they finally did.


This thin kid who had attitude and treated me horribly was being nice and stamped it. "Have a good trip."


Everyone I made friends with was asking me if I was okay and I said, "I'm fine." I gave them my backpack to put under and I got back on the bus to sit in silence. I did not want to talk with anyone as I was too upset and needed peace after that psychological abuse they just put me through.
I always say the worst kind of abuse is psychological. I would rather be hit than have someone taunt and tease me cruelly.

Again, my heart goes out to those kids who are bullied in such psychologically torturing ways.
God bless them and please protect them.

Comfort Meets Attitude

With this Tica Bus, I had mentioned it went from Granada to San Jose, Costa Rica to Panama City. The one night stop over was in San Jose and then we went back on the bus Sunday at 10am.  I had previously had an extensive, fun filled trip through Costa Rica and just wanted to continue with my plan to go to Panama. 


My hostel choice was located about 5 minutes from the bus station and it was Hostel Colon. As I had read in reviews, you would never ever consider this a hostel. It was beautiful, peaceful with great food, nice tourists on their Ipads, and watching movies.  They had a great living room with a huge flat screen, nice furniture, high ceilings, great art work. It kind of reminded me of a small museum or gallery. It was just classy, sophisticated, and tastefully decorated.



I shared the dorm with two other girls in these enormous, super clean, comfy beds. One of them, a Chinese girl from Las Vegas, invited me out, but I was not in a socialization mood especially when I was in full social mood on the bus. I just felt like buying some black beans, tortillas(best tortillas I have ever had), and some green pepper/onion. Perhaps a yogurt if I could find one and an apple-done. That's exactly what I did and I stopped into the frozen yogurt shop, some fancy salad shop, and Subway. The prices were outrageous and I wondered how these people afforded this, but these were the rich Costa Ricans. The rich, arrogant Costa Ricans.


Sitting on the terrace eating my food, I was thinking about how this city is not the real Costa Rica. The people at Tica Bus in Costa Rica were completely rude. When I was asking locals about how to get somewhere, they would keep walking. It was some serious disrespect towards a tourist and I had no desire to stay another day. When I personally asked a guy why they have so much attitude he said, "Tourists made us this way." All I could think my head was Wow. 
"The locals don't like Americans because they come in and act superior to us. There are too many Americans visiting this country. "
Alright, so I got my answer there just asking him directly. It was clear that he was one of those people and I just let it go.


When I woke up in the morning to have some fresh pancakes and fresh orange juice-yum. I decided to take a long walk up towards the national landmarks. This didn't exactly happen because I seemed to misplace my Iphone charger instead of waiting I had to find a new one. I had to write while I was on the bus ride and I had to have a charge crossing the border in case I needed something in my phone. I went to a local shop and he had the original lightening cable. They didn't accept cards so I went upstairs in the mall to get cash. It's the great machine where stick your card in and then they don't give it back to you until the end of the transaction. 


Well, I just walked away not taking it back.  Someone told me they actually do this on purpose to take your card- a lot of crime in San Jose. 
I went to pay for my charger, not realizing the card, and I ask a few questions on it.  Oh boy, those questions got me in trouble. The owner happens to be there and says, "What you don't think it's good?" "It doesn't meet your American standards?" I am fighting for my rights as a customer saying I am just asking standard questions. I am continuously being cut off by him over and over. He is getting angry and he grabs the charger out of my hand. "Get out of here, I'm not selling." I had walked over to another shop and their cheap one did not work. I need this charger so I have to use my charm and be super nice and apologetic. "I'm sorry I really shouldn't doubt your product. I just bought a charger in Belize and it didn't work so I just want to make sure."
Not to mention this charger was $30??
He puts it back down and sells it to me. It's not over for him as he says, "I don't want to see you back here again."


With this waste of time, I have some time to walk around the market and the main streets. It's full of amazing fruit, pastries, full cafes selling coffee and all kind of muffins and cookies. I grabbed a coffee(can't leave Costa Rica without one) and some powdered sugar cookies.  The coffee was great before I spilled most of it running back to my hostel. Grabbed my bags and walked to the bus station for the next bus ride to Panama City. 


 

Costa Rica Bound

               Nice girl working for Tica Bus

                   

It was time to take the famous bus I heard about in  Central America “Tica Bus.” If you ever need a bus, this is the tourist bus that will take you all over. Traveling in three countries, I heard about this bus, but never really saw it. I was just happy on the local buses with the locals. 

This was going to be quite the journey all the way to Panama City. A total of 17 hours split in between two days. I thought about flying, but that would be $200 more than the bus so that was my answer for that.  There were many tourists on this bus and it was a common route-the only route through Costa Rica went directly to Panama City. There were some French, some Americans, Venezuelan, American, and of course Costa Rican.

Just waiting for the bus, I was making some new friends with a couple local Costa Rican guys and an American guy who has a home in Costa Rica. He hasn't returned to the USA in 5 years, which is something I wouldn't mind either. Buying a house abroad for 1/3 the price of a house in the states-great idea! Vamos!

Priscilla boarding the bus like this....

                         

                          

 

Argentina No Goal

And there was yet another Argentinian. Again, to remind, my bet was that I would move to Argentina if they won the World Cup.  This did not happen, but these Argentinian guys were coming to my direction. It was interesting because it was a slight flirtation, interest, and then “Goodbye....” 
And again the same exact thing happens. I had seen this Argentinian hanging around with his group.(Another guy that was smothered by his group and couldn’t break free).  I observed him while he was speaking about some matters. It sounded like he worked for some great organization, which I would have loved to discuss with him.  There was pretty much no time to approach him as I was out all day and he was with his group.  By the time he noticed, me I was leaving. One day I was on my way out and he was on his way in-no real communication, but "the look."

My last day, I am in and out the kitchen cooking some food with the staff (Guests are not suppose to be in the kitchen, but we wanted to share some food together). Walking in and out of the kitchen, he is staring as I chase around the bunny. When I am in the kitchen, he comes in to throw out his water bottle and comments on how everything smells good. “You look like a good cook..”

Priscilla: "Thanks."

Argentinian: “Can you cook me something? ”

Priscilla: “Sure why not.”

 

Argentinian: "Have you worked here a long time?"

 

Priscilla: "I don't work here. I was born in the US.

 

Argentinian: He is mortified and says, "Oh I'm so sorry. I just thought that you..you were cooking.. and..."

 

Priscilla: "It's okay I understand."  

While I could pass for a local and I was in the kitchen ,it wasn't so hard to believe. When I walk outside again, he is apologizing again and thinking, "Great way to start things off."

It's raining out and I hate taking the bus in the rain. It' the last bus....of the day... what if I stayed just one more night? I was not ready to leave just yet after him expressing his interest.  He hears me talking to another tourist about possibly taking the bus tomorrow. I am hoping he would say something like, "Stay let's go for coffee," but Nothing-story of my life.

The minutes are passing by 2:20, 2:30.- I really have to go and I am totally stalling. I pick up the bunny and give him a big kiss. I say bye to all the lovely staff and I start to walk out the door with my backpack, small bag, and larger bag on my shoulder. He follows me out and says, "Please let me help you." He opens up the two doors and the gate.  He looks deep into my eyes and says, "Have a safe rest of your trip."  It's raining and I am covering my head with my hand. I smile and jump into a cab and the end.

         Another Argentinian bites the dust

You're giving me such Sweet nothing, Sweet nothing, Sweet nothing- Florence and the Machine

 

 

 

 

Saved by a Taxi

Instead of being saved by the bell, it's being saved by the taxi. There are times when the taxi comes through for me, but more times when they do not. It's not always the best experience with the taxi drivers and they can be dishonest, but there are those who are kind, they listen, and the do care. 

It was time to depart Leon and get some fresh air, which meant off to Matagalpa up in the mountains. As mentioned, there are only one to two buses per day. When you miss the last one of the day, you have to stay overnight. You show up back at your accommodation asking for your room back because you missed the bus. After all the running goodbyes, you are back and look irresponsible for missing the bus. That's a predicament I don't like to see myself in as it's already hard enough saying goodbye. This time the bus station was only ten minutes away, but I had to take a taxi. 

This particular taxi presented as the "happy driver that is aloof to reality," but I told him I had ten minutes to catch the bus. This guy took all kind of short cuts, zooming through the streets, and I sat frozen in fear he was going to hit someone. He had his music blasting and a poor child dropped their hot dog when they saw him coming their way. I asked him why he was speeding because we have time to catch the 3pm bus. He said, "I catch 230 bus-no 3pm one." I asked three people and everyone said 3pm.  Everything I told him, he would just repeat back or he would say, "Okay, okay."

When we arrived, I had my head out the window saying, "Matagalpa, Matagalpa" just like the bus guys.  This guy says, "Si" and pulls my bag out of the car.  This is the "last call" way of boarding. The bus keeps moving at a slow speed pulling through the bus park and then you try to get in while it's still moving. This sounds ridiculous, but this is really how it goes.  Now when they see a tourist, they usually stop, but for a local they just keep moving and let them jump in. They think that if they keep moving the bus, they are keeping on schedule or it's a sales technique to make the bus look appealing while it's moving?  

Almost always I make it on time and don't go running toward a moving bus, but the added adventure is always exhilarating.

Thanks to this taxi I made it to the bus just in time for my four hour ride to Matagalpa! 

        

a

The Last Supper Dos

                      

Overtime, the last day is not necessarily the most difficult.  When you make your presence, time, and commitment crystal clear from the beginning, the final goodbye becomes easier.  It's when you show up, make connections, take some photos and leave. This is problematic and just completely wrong to do.  With people being my ultimate love and purpose in life, I have to make a true commitment to not let them down. Of course, I may disappoint or make people feel sad with my departure, but it's never intentional.  I only want the best for them and I try my best to give them my all in the time I have. 

Not to mention, these people were special. There were connections made in short time, stories exchanged, motivational talks, spiritual guidance, and independence grown. I am truly not the one doing the teaching rather they are teaching me about their life, their choices, their experiences and I am always learning from them.

We are a co-created team of voices that learn from each other. They need the belief in their potential and being to rise to the occasion.  These people didn't feel supported in this church and it was up to them to build their support from the inside.  Just like my church Willow Creek, they have to build their own sections and supporters. It doesn't just come from a sermon or getting meals each week.  In this case here, it was just about the meals each week-a typical occurrence for many churches I have seen in Central America.

At this last meal with my new friends, I arrived ten minutes late, which is not great because they have a tendency to eat and leave. It's always hectic the last day because I am trying to say goodbye to everyone in town-difficult mission.

It was a grand entrance with the royal red carpet in front of the church- no way.   There was the same group sitting in the corner under the tree and a few sitting in the shade eating their food. A few of them waived and I walked in where I was immediately greeted by Rosa. Whenever she saw me, she greeted me for one second and then asked a million questions. There was Jorge sitting at the table with his cowboy hat smiling big and he said he would come to Chicago one day to see me-cute.

My special needs girl was there sitting at the end of the table.  There I sat with all the questions and goodbyes and Dios contigo(may god be with you).  They were interested in knowing where I was going next and why I couldn't stay with them. This splits my heart in half, but there's always going to be people to serve and I can't stay with all of them forever. When you are pretty much the only one acknowledging this population and you leave, it's difficult. We were all smiling and laughing and I walked around giving some motivational speeches, "Keep believing, Keep the faith, Count on each other, talk and support each other, keep singing, utilize your friends as support."  I encouraged them to meet after the meal time in a small group to discuss their week and goals. This worked for the older men and some women joined together, but many just dispersed after they finished eating. 

Someone had the quote if you can positively impact one person or cause them to think different then your job is done for the day.  Of course, I want to help everyone and be superwoman, but that's just not realistic with this population.  The acknowledgement and motivation makes an impact on the being. 

After their meal, I sat outside with people having the inspirational talks, the hugs, the pats on the back, the smiles, and the handshakes. The one husband who had to ride 30 miles to work by bike in the sweltering heat, to make sure his kids were fed each day, said

 "I know Jesus will guide me to a better job, but we just don't know when."

It's priceless to see what faith these people have and some would say that faith is all they need, but I disagree.  These people deserve more human attention and more real caring and support. Al, 

 who sings and plays guitar in restaurants knows his purpose, but it doesn't pay the bills.  He doesn't have a place to live, but he has purpose.  

Does purpose trump "Maslow's Hierarchy of needs?"

Or does he need to keep working, believing, and praying for his growth of his purpose? Eventually, his purpose should align with his needs, but right now he may need to focus on another job to help him.  The problem that everyone has is that the jobs are "not available," which is partially true.

There are so many different environmental factors that go in their current situation, but I hope I shed some light on how important it is to believe in people.  To just let them talk to you, share some things about yourself and show you're human.         That's all I can ask.... That's all I can ask. 

When I leave I just have to pray for God to take care of these people. It's up to him to keep up his love, support, and miracles.

Out of respect their is limited photos with this population.  It's not respectful to take photos inside the church. 

Sometimes it's best to put the camera to the side.

Good Bye