An older piece that Carl and I worked on, after a glorious time in Panama.
"Taxi" A word that translates into almost any language. When caught
in the aftermath of a tropical storm and hailing a cab, you would
anticipate just being able to get into the warm, cosy interior of a taxi
when you hail one down.However, we were in for a different ride.
"Too bad all the people who know how to run the country are busy
driving taxis," said George Burns and we have all had our fair share of
tales of taxi drivers, some more insidious than others. But, we were in
luck as we waited on a puddle-ridden bustling street in Panama City, we
managed to hail a tour guide extraordinaire, who turned out to be a bit
of a historian and a jolly good chap to throw in for good measure.
Our ride began with a twenty minute conversation by the side of a
crowded main street on how we should not be headed to the Panama Canal
late in the evening but instead, our taxi driver would drive us around a
little and share snippets of information. We were in luck!
As he chattered away in a smattering of English and suave Spanish,
our eyes were treated to a kaleidoscope of tropical colors surging
through what was a dreary evening. He pulled in by the Amador Causeway
where we stood out by the waterway, dazzled by the Bridge of the
Americas and the stunning Panama City’s skyscrapper skyline. It was from
this very area that cannon shots were fired to drive a Colombian
warship away to ascertain independence.
From revolutionary to religious , we were then whisked away to Casco
Viejo, a 337-year old neighborhood where we first entered the Iglesia de
San Jose. The church is famous for its Golden Altar which a priest had
painted black to disguise from the pillages and plunders that occured
during the course of history. Our taxi driver shocked us by lifting a
vault cover that was well hidden and explained how gold had been hidden
in there.
In awe, we sauntered on to be amazed by the Arco Chato (The Flat
Arch), a monumental marvel that was the deciding factor to whether the
building of the Panama Canal could go on. Built in 1678 and spanning 50
feet, the arch was to be the proof that earthquakes and storms would not
affect the building of the canal. Our taxi driver espoused the beauty
of the arch and how it had withstood the test of time and earth
movements with no support other than its terminal arches. To add humor
to the situation, our driver chuckled on how Panama’s Centennial
celebrations with fireworks display brought down a lot of the then
300-year old arch!
Around 300 steps away, we found ourselves in the southern Tip of
Casco Viejo, in Plaza Francia and were affronted by a large obelisk
topped by a rooster. Our taxi driver, well-informed as he was, told us
that the obelisk was in honor of the Frenchmen who had stated the task
of building a canal in 1880 but perished.
The obelisk was surrounded by 12 slabs of marble that outline the
history of the Panama Canal. What we did not know was that we were in
store for a little bit of magic, or well, a trick. We were asked to
push against the monument and lo and behold, a trap door opened up.
Apparently, all valuables were thrown down the vault when pirates
approached. And, the trapdoor lead to the trapdoor at the Iglesia de San
Jose where we had viewed an earlier trapdoor!
Gleeful, we checked out the Paseo Las Bovedas, the Promenade of
Vaults and the nine restored dungeons in the area. One of them is now a
restaurant and our taxi driver did not hold back as he vented out his
displeasure on the treatment of slaves and showed us a rather awful
trapdoor which was an entry way to where slaves were held.
It was another time and our time with our taxi driver was drawing to
an end. As a last bit of a treat before we were taxied away, he urged us
on to the Lover’s Walk, which was a beautiful canopied walk and by the
moonlight, with the sea lapping at the Old Spanish seawall, Panama City
held a lot of hope for times ahead.
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