By Wary Bradshaw for Panama-Guide.com - Struggling to translate Spanish into our native languages is something with which we all can relate. It is, however, an expected challenge, not one that cold-cocks us when we aren’t looking. So what is this dang “thang” with time in the tropics? In the past I’ve experienced and adapted to “Hawaiian time” and “Costa Rican time”. Basically these unofficial time “zones” require the patience, understanding, and eventual acceptance of the fact that very little actually happens at an appointed hour. Life moves at a slower pace in synch with the heat. For me, a time obsessed, “can’t-be-late-freak”, arriving an hour after the posted number on an invitation exacerbates a severe case of hives. (more)
Being glared at by an embarrassed, half-dressed, ill-prepared, hostess when I appeared at her door as officially instructed, cured me (sort of) of my addiction. This uncomfortable experience eliminated the bother of a 12-step program. I am semi-reformed, but still vulnerable to backsliding. (The hives are in check but my anxiety needs work.) Then I moved to Panama City . . .I came prepared from experience, or so I thought, to expect a several hour gap between an actual appointment and the virtual arrival of service people. I don’t really believe that a part on order will materialize when stated. I accommodated to the two-hour-lunch system and the nothing-opens-until-10 AM tradition. I watch my watch in an attempt to cab-grab during the narrow windows of opportunity between morning rush hour traffic, lunch rush hour (well, two hour) traffic, and afternoon rush hour, and all the rush hours before, during and in between. (God forbid trying to a wave down a cab when it rains. Rule of thumb: when you need one they are all full, and when you don’t they are all competing to pick you up. Honk, honk.) But I digress . . .Several days ago a Panamanian lawyer queried me with a tad of exasperation in her voice, “Why are Americans always early?” The appointment was at 8 AM coinciding with my arrival. Being on time is “early”. Okay, we’ve established that phenomenon. ‘Nuff said. Let’s talk about how one doesn’t know when to arrive at a public function/entertainment/event/whatever . . .The following story is absolutely true. My friend and I wanted to see a movie. The Internet posted the feature at 2:30 PM. We arrived at 1:30 PM and on the board directly above the ticket-taker was written a time of 3:00 PM for our film. We purchased our boletas and killed time over a glass of wine. Anticipation was high for the movie as it is half the fun of getting there, so it is said. We presented our tickets and were told the film had begun at 2:00 PM. Questioning the ticket-seller produced this explanation, “Three o’clock is the weekend show time.” (Excuse me, but we were there on a weekday.) We then walked away gazing at our tickets which distinctly said, “5 PM”. Okay, we forged ahead another day, undaunted, and eager. Same theater. Internet posting, 3 PM. We arrived at said time. Feature began at 5PM. We said “$@*&#)@*^%” to this movie and split. Name of the film? “No Reservations” . . . This same friend and I invited others to accompany us to Caravana at ATLAPA. I am an avid reader of THE VISITOR publication. It had been printing publicity for this event in several successive issues. I don’t want to “kill the messenger” as they print what is submitted. Clearly, it had been repeatedly advertised as commencing at 10 AM. As a one-day happening that expected “over 10,000” people I suggested we arrive close to opening. (Okay, I’ve admitted to being “O/C” about time.) We patiently stood waiting until 11AM after the door person declared this to be opening time, which came and went with no admittance. The portals were supposedly now to remain bolted until 12 Noon. Our group did pick up one more misinformed individual and we all sat at the Sheraton for an hour waiting. When at last we were admitted to Caravana our ticket stubs read, “12 Noon”. At which time the Convention Center was already filled with people eating, all of whom could not have possibly entered simultaneously at the dot of 12. (?) My questions are numerous . . .The Internet and the hard copy printed word not being infallible, how did the other 10,000-plus souls know that the published time was incorrect? Who and/or what are the final authorities regarding opening times of anything? Why am I the last to be clued in? Is there a secret club/fraternity/sorority in The City who keeps the real-deal information carefully guarded among their membership? Why am I being black-balled? Or have I been living in the jungle too long before reentering civilization to ever have hope of adapting? Do I need a crash course in Civilization 101? Am I destined to reside in a Time-Trap forever? HELP . . .I welcome all comments: warybradshaw@yahoo.com
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Being glared at by an embarrassed, half-dressed, ill-prepared, hostess when I appeared at her door as officially instructed, cured me (sort of) of my addiction. This uncomfortable experience eliminated the bother of a 12-step program. I am semi-reformed, but still vulnerable to backsliding. (The hives are in check but my anxiety needs work.) Then I moved to Panama City . . .I came prepared from experience, or so I thought, to expect a several hour gap between an actual appointment and the virtual arrival of service people. I don’t really believe that a part on order will materialize when stated. I accommodated to the two-hour-lunch system and the nothing-opens-until-10 AM tradition. I watch my watch in an attempt to cab-grab during the narrow windows of opportunity between morning rush hour traffic, lunch rush hour (well, two hour) traffic, and afternoon rush hour, and all the rush hours before, during and in between. (God forbid trying to a wave down a cab when it rains. Rule of thumb: when you need one they are all full, and when you don’t they are all competing to pick you up. Honk, honk.) But I digress . . .Several days ago a Panamanian lawyer queried me with a tad of exasperation in her voice, “Why are Americans always early?” The appointment was at 8 AM coinciding with my arrival. Being on time is “early”. Okay, we’ve established that phenomenon. ‘Nuff said. Let’s talk about how one doesn’t know when to arrive at a public function/entertainment/event/whatever . . .The following story is absolutely true. My friend and I wanted to see a movie. The Internet posted the feature at 2:30 PM. We arrived at 1:30 PM and on the board directly above the ticket-taker was written a time of 3:00 PM for our film. We purchased our boletas and killed time over a glass of wine. Anticipation was high for the movie as it is half the fun of getting there, so it is said. We presented our tickets and were told the film had begun at 2:00 PM. Questioning the ticket-seller produced this explanation, “Three o’clock is the weekend show time.” (Excuse me, but we were there on a weekday.) We then walked away gazing at our tickets which distinctly said, “5 PM”. Okay, we forged ahead another day, undaunted, and eager. Same theater. Internet posting, 3 PM. We arrived at said time. Feature began at 5PM. We said “$@*&#)@*^%” to this movie and split. Name of the film? “No Reservations” . . . This same friend and I invited others to accompany us to Caravana at ATLAPA. I am an avid reader of THE VISITOR publication. It had been printing publicity for this event in several successive issues. I don’t want to “kill the messenger” as they print what is submitted. Clearly, it had been repeatedly advertised as commencing at 10 AM. As a one-day happening that expected “over 10,000” people I suggested we arrive close to opening. (Okay, I’ve admitted to being “O/C” about time.) We patiently stood waiting until 11AM after the door person declared this to be opening time, which came and went with no admittance. The portals were supposedly now to remain bolted until 12 Noon. Our group did pick up one more misinformed individual and we all sat at the Sheraton for an hour waiting. When at last we were admitted to Caravana our ticket stubs read, “12 Noon”. At which time the Convention Center was already filled with people eating, all of whom could not have possibly entered simultaneously at the dot of 12. (?) My questions are numerous . . .The Internet and the hard copy printed word not being infallible, how did the other 10,000-plus souls know that the published time was incorrect? Who and/or what are the final authorities regarding opening times of anything? Why am I the last to be clued in? Is there a secret club/fraternity/sorority in The City who keeps the real-deal information carefully guarded among their membership? Why am I being black-balled? Or have I been living in the jungle too long before reentering civilization to ever have hope of adapting? Do I need a crash course in Civilization 101? Am I destined to reside in a Time-Trap forever? HELP . . .I welcome all comments: warybradshaw@yahoo.com
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