Rear Ventana del Hospedaje

Living in the Hospedaje Casco Viejo is like living on the set of a reality show (minus the cameras). I think I laugh on a daily basis, and because of the eclectic assortment of people coming in and out of this place it is certainly a fascinating subject for any person in need of entertainment. Perhaps I will install cameras around the place, and export the little hubbub of life here to America.

Just the other night I was making a cup of chai when I entered the commons area to meet two nomadic jugglers. They were kind enough to show us their act and dazzled us with gravity defying magic tricks. It was lovely, and now I expect to see juggling acts every time I sip a cup of authentic chai.

Then there’s Clyde-- the 71 year old expat from San Diego who just got a visa to live here. Clyde has a big silver beard, blue eyes, and a great laugh… he reminds me a little of Ernest Hemingway (not that I’ve ever met him). Last Wednesday was Clyde’s birthday and we went out to dinner. Luckily I got to pick the place, and of course I picked none other than my favorite cuisine, an Indian restaurant called Taj Mahal. Indian food was not something I expected to find here in Panama, but now that I have, I think I’m set for life. Fortunately, it was his first time trying Indian food, and the birthday boy enjoyed it.

If you were to come here late in the evening, you would probably be greeted by Elise who works nightshifts at the desk. Elise has the most mischievous looking eyes I think I’ve ever seen and a great smile to go with it. She’s always watching out for me.

This place is run and operated by Ricardo, a Colombian who studied Business in London (I believe). He’s had it for two years, and I’m convinced is the nicest pension owner in the city. Not only does he hang out with the residents here, he checks up on everyone and makes sure they’re doing okay. He constantly reminds me to remind them when I want clean sheets. And one day when I clumsily locked myself out of my room and they had to break in, he didn’t even get upset. I suppose you see lots of things when you own a boarding house of expats and nomads though.

If you were to come to room 11, you’d find me probably on the balcony making doodles and squiggles of the church, the Iglesia Merced that is approximately 12 feet across the street. This historic church was built in 1531 and survived an attack by famous pirate Captain Morgan, and even a fire. Later it was moved stone by stone by slaves in 1673 to its current residence. No wonder people call it the luckiest church in the entire world!

In room 11 you might also see my roommate, comrade, and co teacher Tim. I have not given a proper introduction of this young chap, and I feel it’s about time I did. Tim hails from the great state of Tennessee. I like Tennessee for three reasons so Tim was already up high in my book before I even got to know him. Those three things are: Graceland, Bonnaroo, and Meg my childhood friend who lives in Murfreesboro. Every person I’ve ever met from Tennessee has been fun, friendly, and not to mention a handful. Tim’s a diehard Steelers fan and a Gemini. He’s the kind of guy that gets into a place through the backdoor not because he can’t afford or talk his way through the front door, but because he finds it more adventurous taking the other route. Ladies, he’s single, so better hurry up before some cute Panamanian steals him away from you.

You’re likely to run into a lot of interesting people here: anthropologists, Germans, backpackers, architect students, Americans who only have $3 in their pocket and no way home… that was a good laugh… for me not so much for him…, Scots, Panamanians, surfers, French sailors, ants and so forth.

One of my favorite films is Hitchcock’s Rear Window. I think it’s because of the combination of suspense and the fact that the film centers on voyeurism. Hitchcock hit on a real appropriate theme there, way beyond it’s time. As a culture, Americans are obsessed with knowing the nitty gritty details of others, and that is why awful reality shows go over so well. I am guilty too of watching these, so I’m not passing judgment, folks. When I meet someone for the first time, I find myself asking them 20 billion questions, because I’m curious of their story. Everyone has a story, and everyone wants to tell it.

Funny, I find it we care more about knowing strangers’ dramas on television or Paris Hilton’s life in jail, yet many of us don’t know our neighbors. Would Hitchcock make Rear Window differently today? I wouldn’t change a thing.

Well, I think I’m going to catch my real dose of Rear Window right now and head to the kitchen for some food. Stay tuned to see what excitement ensues…

*quick update, the kitchen was packed with Cubans so could not cook anything. They offered to help me practice my Spanish though, which was nice. Came back to the room to make a sandwich and spilt organic peanut butter all over myself. Aye! Jimmy Stewart, if you’re out there watching, I hope you had a great laugh. I also hope your leg is feeling better. =)