Hotel BA. (AB? A&B? I love it no matter how you put it.)

Our friend (and new co-worker!) Greg came down last week for an all-too-brief visit so we could tackle a project. It was a joy to have him here, and we miss him already.

We haven't hosted many long-term stays since we moved into our current home last December, but we have had lots of one-night guests -- friends who didn't want to drive home after a late night, or who wanted to be close to whatever they had going on the next day.

At the end of August, we'll FINALLY be welcoming Brent's lifelong friend, Jack, for a few days (and hopefully longer).

Since we moved to Panama, we've lived the majority of the time in places with plenty of space for guests.  Our house-sitting house on the golf course had three bedrooms.  Even though one of them didn't have a bed yet, the one that did was occupied for a week or more on three separate occasions.

That was a new house owned by North Americans. The place we're in now is a Panamanian-owned beach condo, designed for long weekend escapes from the city.

Therefore, there are lots and lots of beds.

We have one bed in our master bedroom. The first guest room has two single beds. The second guest room has two BUNK BEDS. In a pinch, the maid's quarters has a bunk bed (currently being used as very large shelves). In this home, we have a total of nine beds. Come on down -- there's space for you.

Good thing, too, because the couch is not at all comfortable for sleeping. Or sitting, for that matter.

Things They Don't Tell You About Living in the Tropics

I remember when we decided to move to Panama. Packing my bags for one season (HOT!) was incredibly easy and joyful, and I imagined what our beach lives would look like: surfing lessons, long runs down the beach, and so on. Don't get me wrong -- we really like it here. There are just a few things that didn't really come out the way I would have expected when I moved to a beach town.

1. You don't go to the beach that often. I can't say this is true for everyone, as I know people who take beach walks every single day. It's just weird to me: we live, literally, right across the street from the beach. Yet our twice-weekly beach volleyball games are almost the only times I ever go to the beach (and that beach is in a nearby town). I feel somewhat ashamed of this, but I'm admitting it anyway.

2. You're not the only one who notices the heat. I sort of feel like the bad gringa when I complain about the heat, so I don't do it very often, particularly not in the presence of Panamanians. But the Panamanians notice the exceptionally hot days, too, and will comment on it if the door is open for the conversation.

3. There is not the abundance of organic fruits and vegetables that you might expect. When we moved here, I was picturing weekly or even daily farmer's markets filled with delicious fruit untouched by the Monsanto-style devils. While there are a couple of guys who set fruit trucks up outside the grocery store every day, and there are a couple of weekly markets in nearby areas, there is no guarantee that the produce is pesticide or chemical fertilizer free. Unfortunately, that ugly nonsense is far-reaching, and it may in ways be evens worse here because the education about how terrible it is isn't wide-spread. We aim to buy organic when we can, and we pick mangoes off the giant tree in our yard.

4. Once scared of the water, always scared of the water. Not that I'm really scared -- I just never have (and still don't) enjoy having my head under it, and I certainly don't enjoy getting smashed into it when I least expect it. There go any ideas I might have had of becoming a surfer.

5. Beach community doesn't mean "fit" community. I enjoy a life of fitness, and I expected Panama to support that and even take it to the next level. The good news is that I am staying in shape, trying new things, and feeling generally happy with my body and what it can do nowadays. But the process is nothing like I thought it would be. I don't have a gym, so that's out. It's really hot outside! So the desire to get out there and run for miles just isn't there. Many people here are retired, so fitness isn't necessarily the first thing on their minds. (With notable exceptions -- there's a group who regularly trains for triathlons, and several who have started yoga and exercise programs for the first time.)

The ballet hole.

I miss ballet.

We're taking the month of July off, because many of the little girls are on vacation, so my teacher wanted a vacation, too.

As for me...not so much.

When I took a couple of weeks off to go to the US in April, it seemed to be good for my body. My hip had been hurting, and the two weeks allowed its recovery without losing the progress I'd made. With a month off, I'm nervous I'll go back in August and find myself in the same ballet mess I was in when I started in January.

I've been doing a few of the exercises, but it's just not the same when you're holding on to the back of the couch and moving your feet in time to the silence and the vague memory of the music in your head.

Everyone loves beach volleyball.

Last week, a pelican touched down on the beach very near to where we play volleyball, and he stayed there for quite awhile. It was the closest I had ever been to one for a prolonged period of time -- they're so big and beautiful. I love the pelicans.

This week, he returned. And this time, he set up camp right beside the pole for the net. He doesn't seem hurt, but I wonder if he's well -- it doesn't seem like your average pelican would just hang out with a bunch of humans and one very unpredictable ball. Maybe he just loves volleyball.

The bird remains unimpressed by Marek's antics.

We played our game like usual (almost usual...I was a little distracted by him). He would watch, then he'd look at the ocean for awhile, then he would watch again. At one point the ball rolled toward him and against him, and he just spread his enormous wings and hopped away from it.

Update: THIS is the closest I've ever been to a pelican for a prolonged period of time.

After an hour or so, he flew just slightly farther away, and stood there looking out at the water.

He arrived at the court just before I did, and he was still there when I left -- so he hung out for at least an hour and a half.

Such a handsome guy. I hope he's okay. I hope he comes back next time.

This is TODAY! Vemma Colombia Pre-Launch

We've been waiting for this day for a long time! Vemma is pre-launching Colombia RIGHT NOW!  Which means Colombians can place their orders or start their businesses, and products will be shipped out starting next month.

This opening is right on the heels of Puerto Rico, and the Dominican Republic is up next. As if we need excuses to go anywhere....

Tickets to COLOMBIA!

When we came to Panama, our grand idea was to visit Brent's dad and use the isthmus as a jumping-off point to spend long lengths of time in Colombia.

A year and a half later, we've still not been there.

But that's all changing on August 2, when we fly to Medellin for a week in The City of Eternal Spring. Two of our friends are going with us and we're looking forward to a great time, despite my brother's prediction that we will be kidnapped by the cartel. The truth is that Colombia has cleaned up its act quite a lot over the last few years. Everyone we know who has visited has loved it, and Brent recently spoke with a Colombian business-owner from the States who said the crime rate in Washington, D.C. is worse than it is in Medellin.

Vemma is opening in Colombia this month (pre-orders) and August (deliveries!), and we're excited to meet some of the leaders there. We'll be hitting town during the annual flower festival, which I've read is quite the event. Also on the agenda: food.

The rawer, the better.

I first tried sushi in Denver with a good friend of mine, who was very excited to introduce me to the world of raw fish. I wasn't overly excited, but I figured I had to give it a go (and see what everyone was raving about), so I let him place the order and I got my chopsticks ready.

He liked shashimi (big chunks of raw fish and nothing but raw fish, for those of you who are ever so slightly less versed in sushi language than I am). So that was my first step into sushi. It was a terrible one.

I managed to eat two of them, then I told him I really couldn't do anymore. Yucky.

Then I met Brent, and we lived in South America, and he loves sushi. He kept saying he wanted me to try sushi with him (apparently Denver can't possibly be the best place to eat raw fish) but he was waiting for a good opportunity because he knew he only had one shot -- if I disliked it again, my sushi days would be totally over.

When we got that chance, I tasted an assortment of sushi rolls, and it wasn't so bad. When we were in Argentina, the Benihana on the corner had a daily half-price roll happy hour, which we would go to occasionally. I started to really enjoy it, even look forward to it.

When we had the four-hour brunch at Gamboa, my meal consisted mainly of sushi. (And dessert. Come on, people, you know me.)

And now there is a sushi restaurant in Coronado.

They have other food, too, and Brent keeps annoying me by wanting to try it all instead of just ordering sushi to share with me so there is MORE SUSHI on our table. But, the curries and stir-fry have been very good, as well.

I never imagined I would be so excited about a restaurant like this just down the road from where we live. I didn't know it was even coming in until after it was open, and we've been there four times already. It's not the cheapest place in town, but it is a hotel restaurant -- and for most items the prices are pretty on par with what you'd expect around here. (There's an occasional $9 cocktail, but there's also a $5 Pisco sour -- the only Pisco sour I've seen since leaving South America -- and I'm good with that.)

I'm no connoisseur, but I know what I like -- and the general consensus among the Coronado folk is that it's a good place to eat. Just when we were getting bored with our meals-out options, this little place saved the day.

Burnin' up.

When you live in the tropics, you really shouldn't complain about the heat. That's just the way it is around here:

• You don't walk short distances if you need to look put together by the time you reach your destination.
• You take multiple showers every day. (Yesterday I took four. Yes, they were short, but still. Four.)
• You get used to being slightly sticky all the time. 

We don't have air conditioning in the main room of our condo -- which is fine, most of the time. But sweeping, washing dishes, cooking, or cleaning Nacho's living space all mean sweating like crazy. We shut up the bedroom at night and sleep with the air conditioner on, because otherwise it's just too hot to sleep.

I let slip a heat complaint every now and then, but for the most part I don't get negative about something I can't control. I grow really weary of a couple of friends we have who insist on reporting on the temperature every few days. The benefits of living here tend to outweigh the issues with the heat.

The worst part, though, is that sometimes it makes you crabby. It makes you snap when you shouldn't and wouldn't, in a normal situation. So that part -- that part is really too bad.

Independence Day and other celebrations.

I love holidays at home, but holidays abroad have been incredible, too. Celebrating a homeland holiday in another country is, in some ways, extra special, because all the expats come together in that commonality to celebrate. We had a wonderful 4th of July poolside with friends and a barbecue.

A few days earlier, Canada Day was celebrated by Americans and Canadians alike. I missed this year's festivities, but last year was quite a good time.

July 1 last year -- Canadians and honorary Canadians.

We also enjoy experiencing and learning about the local holidays (the Netherlands' Sinterklaas, Chile's Día del Niño, and Panama's Carnaval all come to mind), but we keep our native holidays close at heart, too, even though the only place they have here is with the many expats who share them.

Inauguration Day

This year, after months of election signs hanging on anything they could possibly hang on, Panama elected a new president. Juan Carlos Varela is taking office today. (So I'll have five years to try to get my picture with him.)

So far everything seems pretty mellow out here at the beach -- banks, government offices, and a few small stores are closed. I would imagine things might be picking up in the city a bit, though.

Panama is blessed with a stable government -- because of the canal, it will probably stay that way. I don't know much about any changes this president is planning to make, so we'll just have to find out as we go along. If any of his decisions impact us, you can be sure to read about it here.