I’m sure there’s something worth saying about the social validity of the nightclub. I’m positive about it. I guess age is turning a corner with me, though, and the way I’ve found myself enjoying these venues is nowhere near the ways I used to all but 5 years ago. I don’t want this to become an introspective piece of indie movie-like proportions, not unlike every quirky situational dramedy of the last ten or so years; what I will tell you is about the different ways people can get their rocks off in the same space/situation and how the most seemingly insignificant differences can change perspectives faster than you can say “coffee and cream.”

At my current age, to say that I’m not a guy that likes going to clubs might be somewhat alienating, depending on which social circle I find myself in. It’s no longer weird for me to admit it, and I don’t know if that has to do with the fact that I’m on my quarter century, I’m not into chasing tail at clubs anymore or the self-realization that shows me just how much I don’t like the circus of the absurd these clubs are. They’ve always been, but you buy into it; part of the appeal of the biggest and brightest nightclub to hit the scene is the promise of unabashed debauchery. That’s all well and good, and I’m sure you can agree with me no matter how you choose to enjoy yourself on weekends.

With that said, I’m a free spirit. I like that I don’t let myself be reigned by labels. I’ve seen many of my friends wrestle with their interpersonal relationships and the protocols they’ve made themselves enforce and laugh. “Suckers,” I say. The thing is that I partake in the label shtick by not having any; the “free spirit” label is alive and kicking, and the sooner I realize it then the sooner I can feel more comfortable with myself. When you’re a free spirit in a club that’s located in a small, overly-catholic country such as Panama, this particular label doesn’t tend to gel well with everyone else who’s trying to follow the more mainstream tags society has made available.

I could get into my personal approach to the “free spirit” tag but I won’t risk it and then receive an interminable amount of angry emails; I’d expect a phone call or two but the e-mail has become an easier scapegoat to speak your mind in regards to deeply personal matters rather than the phone call or, God forbid, meeting up for a cup of coffee. Fact of the matter is that the last time I went to a club as of this writing, I got a wee bit shell-shocked by what I experienced.

If you’ve been lurking around my silly corner of the internet long enough, I can assume that you know I have a pretty high degree of self-regard. Comes with the territory and astrological sign. It also helps me rake up wonderful stories. Anyway, Going into this club was kind of like entering somewhat of a meat market. I immediately appreciated the comfort of having a date or girlfriend to go with me whenever I go to these silly places because for a guy who just wants to go have some fun and meet people the club scene is soul crushing; the only people who really show any interest in talking to you are almost always whores, and when they’re not they’re apparently gay. Nothing wrong with either, but I don’t go to a club to pay a woman to sleep with me or much less sleep with another man for free.

I feel for the gay man though (figuratively) since I bet they have even less of a shot at finding someone interesting to hang out or have a good time with unless they go to the only three gay bars in all of Panama City. If I was gay and a free spirit, I’d move; too many lonely nights with your dick in your hand for me to engage in further sexual masochism.

Anyway, due to the Ferris Bueller factor I’ve been blessed with ever since I was four years old, I ran into a group of very friendly, very attractive girls who were talkative and awesome. I had a lot of fun since they were as free spirited as I am, albeit for a different set of reasons. They wouldn’t be in the country for long, and it gave them the license to do whatever they wanted. I found that brave and incredibly attractive.

I had a conversation with a friend earlier that week and she kept talking about how she wanted to be in a relationship. She argued that having a relationship with someone she met at a hostel, for instance, was downright impossible since the people who stay at hostels or hotels are, if logic serves, transient beings. I’m not ready to refute that fact, but I couldn’t whole-heartedly agree. I’d like to think that I touch people’s lives in some way, whether I’m sleeping with them or not, so much so that they’ll want to contact me the next time they’re in Panama. Hell, with the beautiful minx that is the Internet it doesn’t even have to come to that; we can keep in touch with each other even when we have no desire to (I’m lookin’ at you, Facebook).

Most of the people I’ve been involved with for the past, oh I don’t know, 600 years have mostly been foreigners and, in most cases, they’re not in Panama anymore. I keep in touch with some of them, and all of them can very easily know what I’m up to and talk to me if they want to. Time heals all wounds, as they say. Anyway, I’m sure I made some friends that night, and whether their presence won’t be in Panama I’m sure I can talk to them and go visit them when I can.

There’s the game of attraction men and women go through all the time, and even for those of us who don’t care much for it there’s a degree of fun that only until now I appreciate. It’s alright, I suppose. I would love it if women who want me had the courage to simply come up and tell me (as it happened that night) but I know it’s the exception to the rule. People like games because we love to feel like we’re in control. No matter who you are, being in control has always been important and it has never been more true than when you’re trying to get it on with someone you like and/or want. No one wants to be the one that gets absorbed. The realization has given me insight into my previous relationships, so much so that I’ve found a new appreciation for every girl I ever went out with.

I’ll leave you to your thoughts on this. I’m not saying that being a free spirit is the way to go; to each their own, but if there’s anything people should get into is to not take themselves too seriously. Panama is a great place to study people and societies because every city is so encapsulated into its own social structure that it’s ridiculously easy to label people. This guy’s a nerd. That girl’s a slut. Those people are zonians. That group of dudes are backpackers, ‘cuz they stink. It’s such a part of the social structure that when you find people who can’t be catalogued like yours truly (a Panamanian who mostly speaks English, likes talking about sex, digs rock shows as much as dacing reggaeton and can adapt to the beach setting as well as cold climates, etc.) it’s like a wrench thrown into the machine. It’s great, though. If a knee-jerk reaction to this whole thing is to simply use and let yourself be used, then I’m all up for it. And the freedom I have to say this and be understood by those who truly matter to me is something I’ll protect until my eyes bleed.

This inaugural Slip is very special not only because it doubles as the release party of Porto Diao v3.0, but it also marks what will go down in Panamanian history as a once-in-a-lifetime performance by three bands that complement each other in ways no degree of wizardry could’ve crafted. Why do I say this? Because somehow the universe conspired to allow us the privilege of setting up this event with some of the most talented individuals in Panama’s music scene, who are part of bands that are the hotness at the moment.

It’s been a long road getting our boy Porto back up on his feet, but it’s finally happening and I couldn’t be any happier. Personally I’ve been on a pretty violent growth curve in the past few months that managed to inject me with much needed energy. Thankfully, I chose to channel it through stuff like this and not other things like women, jobs, or other problems we give more importance than we really should. Hey, at least I didn’t run out and got myself a Harley Davidson I couldn’t afford or something ridiculous like that. Anyway, I digress. I’d like to introduce you to the talented folks you’ll see on May 23rd at La Casona, and get acquainted with the music that will promptly kick your ass on our date.

Without further adieu, the official roster for Desliz Sonico/Sonic Slip, Session One.

Llevarte a Marte

Lineup:

• Luis Barboza (Vocals / Guitar)
• Guillermo Tapia (Guitar / Vocals)
• Jairo Barboza (Bass / Vocals)
• Fidel Dely (Drums / Percussion)

Influences:

• 311
• Habana Blues
• Dillinger Scape Plan
• Ruben Blades
• Bob Marley
• Gondwana
• Lamb of God
• Sepultura
• Hector Lavoe
• Tower of Power

I first heard of them because Fidel Dely is a friend, and he’s hands-down one of the best drummers around. He’s also absolutely cool to hang out with. Thing is that as soon as I found out he was in Llevarte a Marte I searched under the Internet’s skirt to find music by them, and the rest is history. You can tell they keep their influences in their sleeves, since it sounds like 311 circa the Blue Album with heavy roots and salsa brushes of brilliance. It’s great music to groove to if you’re crushing hard on someone but give yourself room to be playful. That is why I chose them to come aboard this gig. That and they sound incredible live. You’ll notice that all of these bands seem to be having a blast while playing while performing, and that degree of energy goes a long way… you can feel it in the music they play.

Indigo All-Stars

Lineup:

• Armando Wong (Guitar)
• Friolo Rodriguez (Bass)
• Daniel Obando (Saxophone /Percussion)
• Allan Tsimogianis (Vocals / Piano)
• Luis Mitil (Drums / Percussion)

Influences:

• Lord Cobra and the Pana-Afro Sounds
• Ruben Blades
• Los Mozambiques
• Danilo Perez
• Victor “Vitin” Paz
• Nando Boom

This has been wildly publicized and it’s the way I describe Indigo All-Stars’ music when someone asks me: Indigo is music you can fuck to in a steamy bedroom. Their sound is delicious, captivating and doesn’t let you go until it’s done with you. If Llevarte a Marte is music you can groove to with someone you’re crushing on, Indigo is music for a no-holds-barred, passionate romp. It’s fun, it’s sexy and it’s uncompromising. It makes you want to go out there and touch someone. There are distinct traits of Big Band Jazz, Afro Beat and Funk here, with Bossa Nova, Cumbia and even Reggae sounds. As of now, I recommend you surrender to their sound because you’ll enjoy it so much more then. Your date will appreciate it once the dust settles, and if you don’t have one when you listen to them you’ll go out and find one when it’s all said and done. I love their sound. Hell, I’d make love to their sound.

Allay

Lineup:

• Jesus Almenas (Guitar)
• Fidel Dely (Drums / Percussion)
• Friolo Rodriguez (Bass)
• Patricia Gonzalez-Flynn (Vocals)

Influences:

• Edith Piaf
• Nina Simone
• Nora Jones
• Alicia Keys
• Funkadelic

And then there’s Allay. “To make peace.” This is the secret weapon of the evening, making its debut on May 23 at La Casona in Panama City, Panama. You haven’t heard them before, and you won’t until then; you will definitely be asking yourself where this band has been all your life after you do. At first glance, if you look at the roster it’s somewhat of an All-Star lineup of the other bands performing at this Slip, with Llevarte a Marte’s Fidel Dely on drums and Indigo All-Stars’ Friolo Rodriguez on bass, with renowned guitarist Jesus Almenas on guitar, but then there’s the true gem of this ensemble: Patty Flynn. I feel like the more I say, the more I’ll ruin the surprise. There are no words to describe what this woman can do. Mark my words: you will see her. You will then listen to her. You jaw will then promptly hit the floor. Llevarte a Marte and Indigo All-Stars guarantee you’ll have a great time, but the real prize here is that Allay will play. It’s a gift, and I hope you enjoy it.

So this is it: great bands. Great music. A hell of a time. This is not just some performance; this is a Porto Diao joint, so you know we’re going to show you something new and different. I can say on behalf of the crew that we really missed you. I hope you missed us too if you knew us from before; if you haven’t, then be ready to have the time of your life with us. If you’d like more info in Spanish, please visit our sponsors Rock.com.pa, Underdoll and Voltaje 3.

I’m happy to live in a country where one of the best and most transparent electorate systems operates. Panama’s Electoral Tribunal is recognized by the OEA as an example of how similar institutions should operate. Sure, there are black spots here and there, but all in all no one can accuse the ET for being corrupt. So, why is it that every time I go out to vote I feel like it’s a fool’s errand? The political landscape, on a global scale, seemed dire and pessimistic for almost a decade. It could be argued that the people themselves, specifically in the United States, paid for their mistakes in electing George W. Bush not once, but twice. It can also be argued that because people chose, Hugo Chavez can now be the President of Venezuela indefinitely. I’m nowhere near as knowledgeable in these matters to make an informed opinion on those or any other political events happening around the world, but I can point out the moment where the world just about had enough of the abuse, and it has a name: Barack Hussein Obama II. No matter how you feel about the guy, you have to admit that it was an example of how people can come together and take the power back from those who took it away from them. Just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, this event waltzed in and injected a whole planet full of hope. Suddenly, one of the most powerful countries in the world, one that had seen itself be despised and alienated from most of the world, was given a clean slate. It took a historical event for it to happen, and the world saw it as a sign of growth. From a sociocultural standpoint, it’s a beautiful thing and it fills me with hope for humanity.

Back in my neck of the woods, on May 3rd, 2009 the general elections were held; a new President, Mayors, Senate and Representatives were elected that day. Coming out of a presidency that underperformed only because its people demanded more than it was realistically possible to do, the options available were met with an acute lack of inspiration: looking at the ballots while I was voting, I felt like I had reached the buffet line too late and all the good stuff was already taken. I’d have to settle for what I saw before me, having to pick chicken wings when I really wanted a T-Bone Steak. This sentiment was widespread: asking my friends, students and otherwise, the support for President Ricardo Martinelli was unanimous even though oftentimes it sounded like they voted for him because everybody else would and he was going to win anyway. As of this writing he hasn’t taken office yet so I can’t say if he’ll be one to kick this country into shape or not, but at this moment he seemed to be the best options out of the ones we were given, when the options weren’t that good to begin with. All three candidates had a crux going against them.

PRD Party’s Balbina Herrera had the most obstacles going against her, with her ties to former dictator Manuel Antonio Noriega, lack of consistency in her answers, the former President (also PRD) not living up to the Utopian standards put upon him, and the list goes on. Former President Guillermo Endara Galimani was perceived as a crazy old coot; pushing past 80 and his interviews sounding like a gag reel from the Benny Hill show didn’t help matters, along with the unnecessary turmoil going on within his party. Who’s going to vote for you when you can’t even agree with your own Vice Presidential candidate? Finally, there’s Martinelli: a certified schizophrenic and brilliant businessman whose hand is on every mayor industry in Panama. Powerful men only want more power, so the idea of putting a man like him in the Presidential chair wasn’t the most appealing to most, making him a laughing stock in the 2004 elections. A very clever, slow-burning marketing campaign and a hostile takeover of the second-biggest political party in the country later, and the 2009 saw Martinelli win with a whopping 60% of the total tally. People were tired of the bullshit, and he was the one with the least baggage. It also helped that his marketing team made the other candidates look like silly nincompoops. The connecting threads between Obama’s campaign and Martinelli’s are somewhat obvious; they’re both seen as agents of change, and their marketing campaigns were stellar, adapting themselves to what the landscape threw at them.

The similarities end there, though. Aside from the obvious, Obama is a man who’s prepared in every sense of the word. I hate to bring the whole Obama/Superhero analogy into the mix, but what he brings to the table is not unlike what Steve Rogers, a.k.a. Captain America, brings as the leader of the Avengers. He’s a wholesome guy with good values who doesn’t hide anything. He’s honest, steadfast and decided, but calm and collected. His words have a weight to them, a genuine quality that is a breath of fresh air. In many countries people have gotten tired of being treated like idiots by their governments and electing people like Obama (and by proxy, Martinelli) are direct results of that. I know for a fact that I’d run into a burning building if Obama told me it was necessary, not because he’s an American or a President but because he’s a man that inspires trust. Trust that in this day and age is very difficult to come by. I don’t care if you come from the US, Panama or Melmac; I’ll trust you if your words have that monumental degree of confidence. No red tape, no bullshit. Martinelli though, is not a speaker. He does not have a way with words, and his marketing campaign knows that. I’m sure he has the best intentions (or maybe I’ve been brainwashed already; hard to say) but when I hear Martinelli speak my bullshitometer can’t help but spike up. I am so desperate to trust someone though, that I give him the benefit of the doubt: his businesses are well-run, and if he can do the same for my country, then so be it. I don’t care what you have to do, as long as my country is better at the end of this.

Having this sense of defeat, though, settling with this option that doesn’t feel like the best one, feels so fundamentally wrong. Call it patriotism or a basic desire for fairness, but I believe my country deserves better fucking options. One of my snips around election time was how much I wanted the ballots to have a blank option so I could fill in who I thought should be the president. It would feel more fair because then I would’ve been able to postulate my left testicle since I’ve known him all my life and, out of his team, is the one who calls the shots, so to speak. He hasn’t gotten the Federation of States of Rob Rivera into any real trouble in all this time, and I’d trust him with my life (literally).

Trust. It’s what it all comes down to. Without it, we’d be knee-deep in anarchy. It’s such a basic requirement for interaction between ourselves and us with the world around us, but somewhere along the way we got too self-absorbed and afraid that we made some pretty shitty decisions. I’m not suggesting some Libertarian utopia (that would require an advanced degree of trust that we, as people, have many decades to go in order to reach it), but I believe it’d be a great start if we could just set our differences aside and give ourselves a shot here. Be it in regards to your new president, your new job, your friends or opportunities you’re too afraid to take. If you can vote for someone you know only through what you see on TV, hear on the radio or read on the internet, then you have some degree of trust in your bones. Maybe you should apply it to the world around you. Talk. Express yourself. Show the people you care about how much they mean to you. I find it fucking ridiculous how difficult it is for most people (and in some cases, even myself) to express how they feel about something, be it the state of their country or their interpersonal relationships. If you can vote, you can do so many things you have no idea.

2009 will go down in history as a year of change for many. Whether it’s good or bad is up to you, I guess. In terms of the political arena, people have finally realized that we are the ones with the power, and not those in office. And even though this power is not entirely ours or genuine, we have to settle with whatever we get. It feels great either way. The best thing about being in control is having the ability to trust others with it, when need be; I’d like to believe that the reason why a President is elected is because the majority of the people trust that he will look after a country’s best interests. That doesn’t mean we should leave them to their own devices, because trusting someone shouldn’t equal being an idiot. Still, as you can see the matter gets more and more complex the more I get into it. I should trust, but how much is too much? How can one trust and not be an idiot? I don’t want to be an idiot, but I want to trust so what the hell do I do? The answers to these and many other related questions don’t have a definite answer, and they never really will have answers we’ll be entirely satisfied with. C’est la vie. It’s what happens when everyone wants control, be it of a country, themselves, others or situations. If you want a taste of absolute control, I suggest sticking yourself in an island and running it any which way you like… it’s worked for the Castros for half a century. If not, then playing ball with the rest of us is the only thing left to do. Of course, this doesn’t mean that there can’t be a middle ground where everyone can be content… as long as we trust each other.

If you’re a Panamanian or are interested on how Panama’s politics will pan out from this election forward, I kindly suggest you bookmark Tu Politica. As for solutions to your trust issues, I don’t have a site for it. My apologies.

1. CHUD: Chud’s been around since I can remember in terms of my internet life, and it’s made the introductions between me and some of my favorite movies ever. The Host, Crank, Old Boy, Tony Jaa, The State, Battlestar Galactica, Slither, the second chance I gave to The Iron Giant, and so many more were discovered through the site. I like to think that Chud is one of the main reasons why I like the movies I do, and it’s definitely made me wise up on what’s good and what’s bad out there. Often considered a blog (though I don’t really see it, but whatever) operated by Nick Nunziata and with some of the best web journalists out there such as Devin Faraci, Alex Riviello, Russ Fischer and others, they cover movies, TV, comic books, DVD and BluRay and have a whole array of columns such as The Devin’s Advocate, The Sewer Subterranea and CHUDSploitation, and others. If you’re looking for something more beyond the run-of-the-mill blockbusters and media darling shows, CHUD is the place to go. Watch out with the Forums, though; they’re the most intimidating place on the internet, because everyone in there is smart and scathing. They eat their young. I’ve lurked for years and whenever I pick up the balls to sign up I run into a thread where everyone’s ripping each other a new one in such sharp, imaginative ways that I feel out of my league.
2. Gorilla Mask: The premise of this site is fairly simple. Every day you’ll come in and check out the daily links of random nonesense on display and you’ll waste your time in the most effective way possible, staying true to their site’s motto: “Killing Productivity, Seven Days a Week.” The site posts all sorts of stuff, from image galleries to articles, videos and curious tidbits you can only find on the world wide web. Their back catalog is well-stocked too, and it’s very easy to search and findwhat you’re looking for. From this site you can also discover many different places on the web where you can waste your time with much gusto. Just keep in mind that some links are NSFW, if you’re worried about that sort of thing.
3. Area 5/CO-OP: I’m proud to say I’m a gamer. Always have been and I think it’s pretty safe to say that I always will be, passing the habit along to my eventual kids. With the internet it’s easier to get news about the latest games coming down the pike and it’s a much cheaper venture too, given that the internet is free and all that jazz. Using its full potential though, the guys from Area 5 (formerly 1UP staff) created a true gem for every gamer out there, recently updating and fine-tuning it to what we know today as the CO-OP Show. Originally the 1UP Show, after what I like to call “The Great 1UP Fallout” which is something you’ll have to read about elsewhere, many of the creative forces behind 1UP had to relocate elsewhere. Happily they’ve all managed to get back up on their feet, and CO-OP has to be seen as nothing short of a triumph. Tune in every week for the best video game show, online or otherwise… just be prepared to suck up a lot of bandwidth, ‘cuz this greatness don’t come cheap. Also, check out the site’s links section full of awesome video game related podcasts and other goodies.
4. io9: If you’re into sci-fi, then you’ve probably heard of this website. If you haven’t, then you should: io9 is kind of the BoingBoing.net of Sci Fi, or rather second cousin who’s more into the genre. In this site you’ll find reviews and commentary on everything sci fi, be it books, TV, movies or anything in between. There are also smart, snarky articles on subjects that span anywhere from alien abductions to Donnie Darko. For what it’s worth, the site is part of the Gawker network, where you can easily jump genres from Sci Fi to celebrities, to gadgets and video games, and others.
5. Post Secret: One of the first websites I ever came across with, I have it in high regard for what it’s been able to accomplish. A web 2.0 site when Web 2.0 didn’t even exist, the site is a simple blog were people send in postcards with their most intimate secrets anonimously. The site’s creator/curator, Frank Warren, then updates the site every Sunday with a whole batch of secrets. The postcards are sweet, depressing, uplifting, discouraging, eerie and facsinating all at once. There have been several books published with thousands of secrets, and many people owe their lives to the website (it’s no coincidence that the website has a link to the US Suicide Hotline). I go there every week to renew my hope for humanity.

I hope you enjoy the sites. I might do more of these in the future, so stay tuned, I guess. Do you have any websites you usually go to that you’d like to share with the rest of us?

The numbers escape me at the moment, but the estimate for foreigners currently in Panama is a little over a million. That includes tourists, real estate buyers, workers and those in-between. A million. That’s 1/4 of the total populace. With tourism minister Ruben Blades and his “Master Plan,” its the government’s intention to pack the country to the gills with foreigners. There are plenty of opinions to go about that, I’m certain, but that’s an argument for another day. Fact of the matter is that Panama has the dollar, and everyone loves the dollar while they poop on the country that came up with it (or should I say pooped? Honestly, Obama has almost singlehandedly given the U.S. a clean slate in the eyes of the world) so everyone comes here. Panama is the New American Dream, but this “America” is the whole continent rather than just the Red, White and Blue.

Panama is attractive to the North American because it looks exotic, is a “tax haven” and carries the same currency while being three times cheaper. It’s attractive to the European because, again, its exotic and since the Euro has mad hits like it was Rod Carew, things are six times cheaper. Finally, Panama is attractive to the Latin American because we now have North Americans and Europeans looking to spend their money, and since a good salary to the Latin American usually means cheap labor for the North American/European, it’s a win-win. Besides, have you seen Colombian women? Sweet mother of God.

All of these sectors and the lovely characters they represent often converge in the Immigration Office. A government branch, they take care of all claims, queries and processes needed to get in and out of the country. I don’t remember much about my times in there, most likely due to post-traumatic stress disorder, but I can tell you it was never something you could call “pleasant.” More like “rape,” perhaps. By Carrot Top.

If you go get your driver’s license for the first time or get it renewed, you’ll surprisingly find yourself in for a real delight: the system was handed over to a private entity called SETRACEN in 2007 and whereas it took me, I shit thee not, seven hours, a bribe that turned out to be a scam, a screaming match with an official over the written test and a stroke of luck with the field exam when I took the license out for the first time in 2004, getting the new one took me a grand total of one hour and a half. No fuss, no bribes and no attitude. For once I was treated like a human being when dealing with the government. Of course, I sadly realized that it was all a lie, the dirty paws of privatization took a grip around the transit authority’s neck and… made the process efficient.

There are some things we know for certain in life. Love in unconditional. Everything that goes up must go down. Darwin was right. OJ did it. I could go on for weeks with this, but one thing we can count on is that dealing with a government entity, be it transit, immigration or otherwise, will always result in tears. It’s like scaling Mount Doom without shoes and a friend who likes you just a wee bit too much: it’s annoying, uncomfortable and you want it to be over before it’s even begun. Panama’s Immigration Office is no different.

I took a friend recently to get her tourist visa renewed with a pulp sense of adventure running through my veins. I love to help, and I wanted to know if the immigration office had improved its organization and customer service since last February they changed up the visa requirement laws in order to stimulate tourism and foreign investment, in an effort to make things more fair for everyone. I wasn’t expecting a back rub and cocktails on the way in, but being treated like something more than a piece of shit with legs and a t-shirt would suffice. As we walked into the black hole that is the Immigration Office entrance, I knew that nothing in my years of adventuring could ever prepare me for this.

Trying to come up with a coherent way to describe the place is like asking a blind man for directions: sure, I be he/she gets around just fine, but we’re talking about two very different levels of perception here. Trying to navigate through that office must surely take years of practice with no one to guide you. The place is cramped, packed full of people and no apparent way to figure out where the hell to go. There are lines everywhere going to different rooms, one no different than the next. Asking other people seems pointless since most of the time they’re just as clueless as you are and talking to people who work there is futile. Absolutely futile. Trying to decipher which of the seven lines was the one we were supposed to be in, I had an oh-so informative talk with an immigration worker, sexy navy blue vest and badge with his hungover face on display for all to see. He was asking people to step away from what I assume was the cash register area.

Rob: “Good morning.”

Immigration Official: “Argh.”

Rob: “Oh, alright. I would like to know where the line for visa extensions is.”

IO (bewildered): “Huh?”

Rob (pointing at his friend): “She wants to renew her visa and we were told it’s here, but which line is it?”

IO: “Well, you’re going to have to ask the people in the lines.”

Rob: “Come again?”

IO: “You’ll have to talk to the people in the lines.”

Rob: “You don’t know?”

IO (pointing to some people to his left who seemed to be making a line towards something): “If they’re in a line they must know what it’s for.”

Rob: “Are you for real?”

IO: “I haven’t gone knee-deep in the subject yet.” *chuckles*

The son of a bitch chuckled, like it was a joke. I went over to the people he pointed out to, a group who looked they had been out in the desert for days and were a hair away from killing their brethren. I asked what the line they were making was for. They replied that they were not making a line at all.

Looking at our surroundings, we realized the logic that governed this place was something way beyond our comprehension. I felt like an immigrant who came from planet Earth, stuck in some odd-shaped planet were people eat cats and dance to the sounds of folding chairs. Where’s your Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy when you need it? I should’ve taken my towel.

With no time for a panic attack we eventually found the line we were supposed to make. A rather short line, I must admit. Also, a line where it took us one hour to advance a solid foot. One foot. Did I mention I hadn’t had breakfast that morning? I sported the grin people who are about to snap have right before their jump-off. There was some sort of “take a number” system in place but everyone ignored it, including the workers; the line also seemed like it was heading nowhere not just in terms of progress but also in terms of finality. There was much uncertainty. As it is with places that fancy a chaotic infrastructure, you can always count on two things: it’s a free-for-all in there, and always be on the lookout for windows of opportunity. Out of nowhere a man with the face I’m sure is that of Death pointed to a closed-off office cubicle shoved in a corner of the room and spoke:

“If you are renewing your visa, make a line here. Only five people will be served.”

Survival of the fittest. He only said it once and those with the sharpest reflexes got the coveted spots, including us. After two hours of waiting in line, a lucky break like this is a minor, yet sweet victory.

In the end we got in, and were given the following news: if you’re North American, you can’t renew your tourist visa. In fact, you don’t need one to enter Panama. you have ninety days of freedom in the country, and unless you leave before those ninety days are up, you’ll have to pay a $50 fine for every extra month you stay. This also goes for the following countries: Germany, Hungary, Argentina, Israel, Austria, Italy, Chile, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, Poland, El Salvador, Portugal, Spain, United Kingdom, Finland, Greece, France, Singapore, Guatemala, Switzerland, Honduras, Uruguay, Holland (The Netherlands), Luxembourg, Belgium, and Bolivia.

Panama Business and Travel had broken down the different types of visas and all that jazz from the articles written by Panama Offshore Service’s own Steven Rich, published in The Visitor tabloid. You can check that info out by clicking here. In the meantime, my friendly advice is to avoid having to go to the immigration office at all costs, unless absolutely necessary. As it is with most things in Panama, the barter system is still alive and kicking, allowing the use of different options to get your process done. You know what they say: “where there’s a will, there’s a way.”