The mighty Changuinola River from the air. Image thanks to Burica.
Finally the train pulled out from in front of the Chinese Bar and Restaurant in Almirante headed for the last stop, a town by the name of Baseline. I had been apprehensive all the while since I knew nothing about traveling anywhere in the country of Panama. It was the fist time for me to really leave the urban areas of Panama and Colon to go anywhere in the world. As the train picked up speed and we sped through the lush jungle toward our destination, for some reason I envisioned that the jungle would one day try to reclaim the area of the rails upon which it was running. Continue reading
One of Chiquita Brand’s promotional posters. I was headed for Baseline, today known as Changuinola, in search of work. Image.
Although I wouldn’t respond, the voice remained insistent until the guy ran up to me and said, “Juni, don’t you remember me?” “No!” I answered. “Where the hell do I know you from?” I said rather annoyed. He started talking fast noticing that I was irritated by all of his pestering. “Look guy, or whatever your name is, you don’t know me and I don’t know you!” I said. At that he quickly said, “Pug’s cousin! Don’t you remember? ” So, I said “Look Buddy, I am really busy and need to do some business….” Continue reading
image from worldheadquarters.com
The ferry that we took from what the natives called “Bocas Town” and the Spanish-speaking people I would later meet called “Isla Colon” or Colon Island, could be described as very large or similar in size to the one I had become accustomed to in Panama City that we all knew as the “La Boca Ferry.” The only difference between them was that the La Boca Ferry transported automobiles while in Bocas our ferry only carried human passengers and it was much more picturesque. Continue reading
Almirante, Bocas del Toro. Image thanks to travelpod.com
It was a dark and starless night that night as we headed for Bocas del Toro. For some reason I found myself standing alone next to a wooden bunk. I was patiently waiting for the girl of my dreams, my would be wife, the one who would make me a father, to return to my side from some errand or the other on board. Continue reading
Image thanks to bocasbound.com
The issue of Pug’s pregnancy became a partner issue that many teenagers share with looking for work which involved the never-ending quest for any job situation which would help us maintain ourselves. Although I was still partially employed and still living the student/bachelor life, hanging out now and then on the corner of 11th Street in front of a bar feeding the jukebox, things obviously had to change. I was still making new friends, which had never been a problem in Colon. The city had become a wonderland for me. Continue reading
“Ni Millones, Ni Limosnas- Queremos Justicia.” the words are inscribed in our hearts as well.
Here we see Remón at a reception on October 2, 1952 at the Tivoli Hotel offered by then Canal Zone Governor, Mr. J. S. Soybold in honor of President Jose A. Remon Cantera (left). Image thanks to the archives at the National (Castillero) Library.
I came home from work one day to meet up with my classmate Albert Bryan whom we all respected very much. He said to me, “Profesor Grant said to put on your uniform and meet the bus at school.” I hurriedly prepared for the trip which ended up in Panama City. In reality we would really not do any singing, but would be attending the funeral of our slain President, José Antonio Remón Cantera. Continue reading