From under the shade of the front porch roof, we watched a woman pick a starfruit from a tree in the churchyard across the street. A chicken crossed the road. Latin music sang out from a nearby house. A man on a motorbike rode by, steering with one arm and holding a live chicken in the other. We weren’t in Arizona anymore.
When my husband and I retired, we became snowbirds. We escaped cold Canadian winters by spending four months in Mesa, Arizona the first winter, and five months in subsequent years. Our two aging dogs travelled with us, but by the third winter, both had passed on. We missed them, but their absence gave us new freedom. We could travel further afield. And go somewhere hot. Although Mesa in January is considerably warmer than Manitoba, it can be cool enough to warrant long pants and jackets. Frost is not unheard of.
Pedasi, Panama became the destination for the next winter. Pedasi is a quaint, laid-back fishing town at the southern end of the Azuero Peninsula, along the Pacific Coast. Locals, expats and tourists intermingle amicably. A four-and-a-half-hour bus ride from Panama City to Las Tablas followed by a 35-minute cab ride brought us to the town’s main store, where we were to meet the owners of the house we’d rented. After nearly an hour wait and rising fears of an internet scam, they arrived, unconcerned about the time. Time moved differently here.
We settled into our house with a tin roof. Air-conditioning units graced the two bedrooms. Hot water only in the bathroom, supplied by a small electric heater attached to the shower. Washing machine and propane-powered dryer on the back patio. Life took on an easy, unstructured rhythm.
We read the stack of used English paperbacks we’d brought with us and discovered the book-sharing shelf at Smiley’s, a restaurant and bar popular with expats. I wrote. We walked, early in the morning before it became too hot or in the evening as the sun started to set, and local families strolled to the town square. Other walkers greeted us with a smile and a friendly “Hola” or “Buena.” As did families on their front porches. Heat and cramped living spaces led to much of life unfolding outdoors. We saw no cacti or golf carts. Instead, we passed mango trees, wild orchids, and horses tethered in small fields.
Rooster crowing replaced the urban sounds of freeway traffic, airplanes and police helicopters. They began their symphony around two-thirty in the morning and continued throughout the day, becoming less frequent after mid-morning. Sometimes dogs joined the chorus.
In Mesa, we drove everywhere, long distances on well-maintained highways. In Pedasi, we walked. When we wanted to explore further afield, we hopped local buses. These extended vans sat 11 to 16 people, air-conditioning provided by open windows. The buses operated on a schedule, more or less, between neighbouring towns, stopping along the way to drop off or pick up passengers. People greeted others as they boarded. There always seemed to be room for one more, even when that person was accompanied by a fishing rod. The buses took us to the Spanish-colonial architecture of Parita, the pottery studios in La Arena and a festival in Las Tablas, featuring colourful traditional Panamanian dress.
We ate out a few times a week at Pedasi’s many excellent restaurants. We bought food to prepare at home, using my phone’s Spanish translation app to read labels at Pueblo Centro. Cuts of meat at the on-site butcher looked unfamiliar. The stewing beef I used in a curry was tough. Chicken and fish were better choices, not surprising given all the chickens we saw running free and the area’s fishing reputation.
In Mesa, cheap prices and abundant supply tempted me to purchase more produce than we could consume before it spoiled. In Pedasi, the choice of fresh vegetables was limited. Greens are not a big part of the Panamanian diet. Tomatoes, potatoes and yams sat in bins in front of the meat counter where selections were weighed. Others were stored in the cooler, wrapped in plastic and already priced – a handful of carrots, three wilted stalks of celery. Farm trucks selling fresh fruit and sometimes vegetables drove through town a few times a week on no apparent schedule. Loudspeakers announced their presence. Their sweet and juicy pineapple was the best I’d ever tasted.
As in Mesa, we took water and electricity in Pedasi for granted. Until Carnaval, when hordes of visitors and family members descended on the town, tripling the population. Power was out for six hours one day. Except for short bursts when one of us grabbed a quick shower, we were without running water for the last two days of Carnaval, and thankful we had a five-gallon jug of drinking water. We used thawed bags of ice to flush the toilet.
Unlike being in Mesa, we could not take internet access for granted. The router in the house had a SIM card, which we loaded with minutes at the local store, but speed was reminiscent of dial-up days. I was unable to publish blog posts. Cellular speed was faster. For the first time ever, I reached my cell phone data plan maximum.
Half-way into our stay, we discovered the town’s free Wi-Fi, thanks to an American university student we met at the bakery. Reception varied beyond the main street, but it sometimes reached areas of our house. Speed was faster than what we’d paid for. Access to sites with video was blocked. In Mesa, I streamed Canadian news shows. In Pedasi, I watched BBC World News on television. Other programs available in English were mostly reruns of old American series.
The heat brought us to Pedasi. My husband basked in it. There were times I found it oppressive. Air-conditioning made sleeping possible. Mornings we chased shade on the back patio. Afternoons were cooler on the front porch. We opened front and back doors, hoping any wisp of a breeze would cool the house. On hot Mesa days, we cooled off in the community pool. In Pedasi, beaches were a 30-minute walk or a short taxi ride away. The nearest beaches had few amenities and little shade. A 45-minute bus ride took us to the popular Playa Venao beach resort area or the quirky, private Playa Playita. Sand, sun, surf and a traditional lunch of ceviche, pescado frito (whole fried fish), and patacones (twice-fried plantain) made the bus ride worthwhile.
Life in Mesa included social gatherings and regular activities. We knew no one in Pedasi. We chatted with tourists and expats in restaurants or on the beach. Our limited Spanish hampered interactions with locals, but less so than we’d expected. Communication occurred via gesture, body language, smiles and a commonly understood word or two. We developed a connection with the multi-generational family next door through nods and greetings.
The connection deepened one afternoon when their chicken escaped and raced through the gutter in front of our porch, chased by their 11-year-old daughter. The chicken bolted through the open door into our house. My husband and the girl exchanged astonished looks and ran after the chicken, closing doors behind them. The girl recaptured her chicken and took him home. She returned a few minutes later with fresh oranges for us.
The strange became familiar. We recognized people and they recognized us. Pedasi began to feel like part of us. We left town the day after Carnaval. As we waited at the taxi stand outside Pueblo Centro, the out-of-town relative who’d spent Carnaval with our next-door neighbours joined the bus stop queue. She gave me a big hug to wish me well. When a taxi finally arrived, two young men waved us down, wanting to share our taxi. We knew them. One was the American student who’d told us about the town Wi-Fi; the other was a Swiss tourist who’d ridden the bus with us.
Returning to Mesa winter after winter felt like coming home. Different as it is, I expect to feel a similar sense of coming home when I return to Pedasi. The snowbird life takes many forms.
IF YOU GO:
Getting there: If you rent a car, Pedasi is a four-hour drive from Panama City on the well-paved National Highway. Buses run several times a day from Panama City’s Albrook Bus Terminal to Las Tablas, where you can transfer to a shuttle bus to Pedasi. Note that you will need to either walk several blocks or catch a taxi from the bus station to the shuttle stop. Alternatively, you can take a taxi from Las Tablas to Pedasi. The entire trip by bus takes six to seven hours. During high season (mid-December to mid-April), a couple of flights a week operate between Panama City and Pedasi.
Accommodations: You’ll find home rentals on Airbnb and HomeAway. There are several hotels, bed and breakfasts and hostels in and around town. See Discover Pedasi for information on hotels, dining and activities.
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