Travel Tragedy in Panamá

I'm a member of an awesome network known as the Nomadness Travel Tribe. When I'm in an airport, foreign or domestic; roaming a city, foreign or domestic, I can be immediately recognized by my attire and ID card by other members of this urban, new age travel movement that spans 9,000 members with a love and passion for an activity which broadens the mind and nurtures the soul—travel.


In the “Tribe,” as we call it, we share stories, advice, photos, and converse about our personal travel experiences in every corner of the planet earth. There is not a place in the world where a member of Nomadness Travel Tribe has not been and cannot give you advice from personal experience. If you plan on moving or traveling to another city, foreign or domestic, business or pleasure, you can get tons of advice from the Tribe. 

We are primarily on Facebook, but have live meet-ups all over the world, one of which I hosted here in Oakland two summers ago. In one word, the Tribe is family; a place where strangers become friends in one meeting. I would venture to say that the Nomadness Travel Tribe is the largest and most efficiently run forum on Facebook.

The tribe sponsors group trips to various places around the world. 

However, I am very sad to hear of two members of our Tribe who lost their lives in a bus accident in Panama. They were Nigel Christopher and Nneka Fritz. Several other members were hospitalized with serious injuries. 

Nigel Christopher, someone I never met in person as we lived 3000 miles away from each other. However, Nigel made me feel very welcome and at home when I first joined the Tribe three years ago. He had a way of making me feel like we've met in person and became the best of friends. Thus, his passing had me grieving the hardest. 

The Tribes follow-up and concern for the victims and the families of the victims in this horrific accident made me feel much closer to all the members of the Nomadness Travel tribe. To date, The Tribe raised over $64K to help the victims and their families.

Cuba's Love and Respect for American People

One of the most joyful moments in my life was entering the José Martí Airport in Havana after off-boarding Aero Cubana airline.

Some years back, a group of us American students had the opportunity to attend the University of Havana for Spanish-language intensive training. We went legally through the San Francisco-based Global Exchange, Inc., an international human rights organization. We flew to Cancún, spent the night, and at noon the next day, we caught our 45-minute flight to Havana where  Cuban hosts welcomed us.


If you talk to just about anyone who traveled to Cuba, they will tell you how much the common, everyday Cuban citizen love and respect American people despite the long-standing conflicts between US and Cuban governments. 

 Cultural exchange between Americans and Cubans

As I made my way around Havana, people assumed that I too was Cuban until they heard my foreign accent (in Spanish), and asked where I'm from. When I told them the USA, they generally shook my hand saying, “nice to meet you.” I've been invited to people's homes for dinners, shown the town, and introduced to new friends while dancing salsa.

I felt so out of place wearing my University of Havana and other Cuban t-shirts that I bought as souvenirs because they were dead giveaways that I'm a tourist. T-shirts with English writing on them donated by American and Canadian visitors over the years are hot items to be attained among Cuban people. I saw a woman wearing a New York Knicks jersey, and out of excitement, I shouted in Spanish, “that's my team! She gave me a confused look because she did not know what she was wearing. The fact that it was in English made it a fashion statement, and that was all that mattered. 

 Attending a lecture on Cuban Culture on 

the porch of the Che Guevarra house.

If you think the US economy is bad, you should see Cuba's where basic things we take for granted are in short supply and rationed out. It's not uncommon for people to wait an hour or two on a long line to buy a loaf of bread, for example, only to find that it is sold out. The US trade embargo against Cuba that has been going on for more than half a century has a lot to do with Cuba's economic woes. And it's not the Cuban government who is suffering nearly as much as innocent men, women, and children who feel no animosity whatsoever against American people.

If you have a chance to visit Cuba be it legally or through other available means, it's a good idea to take some items that you don't need and give them to the people with whom you establish rapport. Items such as CDs, T-shirts, clothing, toothbrushes, soap, and USB flash-drives would be greatly appreciated. When I gave a seven-year-old boy a set of pens and writing paper, he high-fived me with such excitement that you would think I gave him a $20 bill. 

One of my salsa music dance partners in 

the Barrio Habana Vieja (Community of Old Havana)

Havana, like every big city, has its share of city slickers who find legal ways hustle the increasing number of tourists. A bicycle-taxi driver supposedly invited me to a party for one of his little nieces. He and his friends were to lure me into the home and have me buy all the liquor and the food so they (and I) will have a good time. The hosts at the Che Guevarra house, next door to where I was staying, pulled my coat-tail to the scheme.

The crime rate is very low in Cuba because the penalties are so harsh that would be criminals are not willing to take the chance. What would get you a slap on the wrist for a first offense in the US can easily get you ten, or more years in a Cuban prison. There are secret police who keep a close watch on their citizens and surreptitiously report the slightest infractions to the authorities. They also identify and keep watch on visitors making sure they stay safe. This is all to build their growing and lucrative tourist industry. I remember how one aggressive person approached me, and I said to him, ¡no me moleste (don't bother me)! He immediately backed off, not because he was afraid of me; he was afraid of who was watching me.

While so many Cubans admire American culture, people around the world love Cuban culture, especially the music. Cuban music, food, and the Afro-Cuban religion, Santería, are international attractions. I just hope when this political conflict between the Washington and Havana governments are finally over that the Cuban culture continues to flourish.

Why I Avoid English Speakers in Latin America

 

 When traveling , I drift toward the barrios where you 

find the real culture, such as in Juncal, Ecuador

Fortunately in my Latin American travels, I run into very few people who speak English. I'm sure they are out there, especially among some college students, some of the upper class, and some of those in the tourist industry; all of whom I make a special effort to avoid. I'm much more attracted to the barrios (the hood) where I can be among the everyday common people; that way I remain totally immersed in the Spanish language, which forces me to improve my own Spanish and get a better sense of the cultures.

Reflecting on my last blog post, It's Nice Meeting “Proud” Spanish Speakers,” I vividly recall times in Latin-American countries where I responded in Spanish to anyone who spoke to me in English in the same way so many US Latinos respond to me in English when I try to speak to them in Spanish.

Felix of Caracas, Venezuela took me in like family

One summer, in Havana, Cuba, I was  with a group of 25 Americans who were there for Spanish language intensive training at the University of Havana, sponsored by Global Exchange, Inc., based in San Francisco, CA. Upon our arrival, we were loaned bicycles for a guided tour of the city. 

As we rode along Havana's popular Malecón (the waterfront), an Afro-Cuban gentleman rode up along side me and struck up a conversation in English. I felt insulted because I thought that he was assuming that I was just another gringo who can't speak Spanish. I decided to show him differently by responding to everything he says to me in Spanish. After several of those exchanges, he finally snapped in frustration, “MAN, STOP SPEAKING SPANISH; I'M TRYING TO PRACTICE ME ENGLISH!” 

 Dancing salsa with D. Fuentes in Havana, Cuba

At that point, my feelings of insult turned into compassion because I remember so vividly how crushed I used to feel in the US trying to practice my Spanish with native Spanish-speakers who insisted on responding to me in English. Therefore, I gave him a break.

In Caracas, Venezuela, I was hosted by Felix, a friend I met on www.couchsurfing.com, a web site for travelers. Felix showed me the city, then took me into his home in the barrio with his family and fiancé where I dined and slept. The only drawback was that Felix and his fiance's English were better than my Spanish, so there was no way I could resist. My only alternative in using my Spanish was with his family members who speak no English. The next day, Felix turned me over to another friend whom I also met on couchsurfing.com, María.

While in Cartagena, Colombia, I purchased the 
South American version of Ebony Magazine

María, who also went the extra mile to ensure that my stay in Venezuela was a rewarding one as she escorted me on a two-hour bus ride into Venezuela's region of Barlovento to explore Afro-Venezuelan culture. María speaks Spanish, Swiss, and English. However in this instance, my Spanish was better than her English, but out of appreciation for her hospitality, I permitted her to practice her English on me until she got stuck in translation, then I would intervene in Spanish. 

If I were to move to a Latin-American country as an expat, I would not have the attitude that I demonstrated with the Cuban bicyclist. I would be willing to speak English with anyone who is learning it or already proficient.  

 

María escorted me into the black (and brown) 
region of Barlovento, Venezuela 

However, all of my travels have occurred during my vacations from work lasting two to three weeks. Thus, giving me limited time to take advantage of every precious moment of being totally immersed in the Spanish language with no opportunity to fall back on my English when I get stuck in translation. In such cases, I have no other choice but to face the challenge head on and work through it. 

I was in a restaurant in the Barranco district of Lima, Perú, where I was so disgusted with the customer service that I demanded to speak with a manager. My irritation almost made me forget all the Spanish I learned up to that point, and I was disappointed when the manager told me that he didn't speak English. I then felt compelled to register my complaint in Spanish. It is cases like this where the “real” learning takes place—not in the classroom—and believe me, I'm still learning!

Any Guilt Feelings Among Black Americans Traveling in Latin America?

Terri, an African-American member of a Facebook forum, Brothers and Sisters in Latin America, posed a question to those of us who have lived or visited a Latin-American country. She wanted to know if any of us felt any guilt or felt badly that we, as Americans, get better treatment and more respect than the black citizens of the countries we visit.

The reason I personally do not have guilty feelings is because, as much as possible, I try to connect with the black community in the countries to absorb as much as I can about their black experience and history. Monetarily, I offer support in ways that I can afford, but at the same time, I do not allow anyone to take advantage of me. 

In the commercial district of Cartagena, Colombia, I came across a black woman selling her wares. Although, I saw nothing that I wanted or needed, I handed her some money just to be helpful. There were other times, in certain countries, that I blended so well with the black community that I too sometimes experienced disrespect due to racial prejudice. 

In Chincha, Perú, an Afro-Peruvian friend escorted me to a bus station to inquire about the price of a ticket to Ecuador. The man shouted the price at me in a tone of voice expressing doubt that I could even afford it. In Quito, Ecuador, I had trouble catching cabs in certain parts of town, especially at night, because I was profiled as an Afro-Ecuadorian thug. One Friday night I saw a cabbie drop off a white couple, and when I tried to enter, he wagged his finger in utter defiance. I then waved two $5 bills, LOL; he changed his mind instantly. Once in the cab, he was pleased to learn that I'm an African-American traveler and not an Afro-Ecuadorian native...sigh!

Tamara, another one of our African-American members, was generally treated with warmth and respect in her travels, however, she spoke of one isolated incident in a department store in Lima, Perú. She saw some soccer jerseys that she wanted to get for her nephew. She tried to get the store clerk's attention, but the clerk turned and walked away. Within minutes, the store clerk returned with a man who was possibly a security officer. When Tamara addressed her in English, the clerk's attitude changed abruptly giving Tamara a very pleasing smile. Tamara was so turned off by the obvious racial profiling that she decided to shop somewhere else (good for Tamara!).
 .
Thierry, an Afro-Latino member of the group stressed that in Latin America, tourists of “any” color get treated better than local Latin-American citizens, regardless of their race. I tend to agree. I believe that if I stayed in a fancy hotel speaking English only, and perceived as having a pocket full of money, I would not have experienced any racism. In Latin America, money “whitens” your skin.

He [Thierry] also added that the great hospitality that visitors from other countries receive from Latin Americans may also be a way for them to take advantage of you, i.e., to charge you much higher prices—the famous gringo tax. Fortunately for me, my attempts to establish bonds with local citizens and immerse myself in the language and cultures of the barrios (the hood) results in cheaper prices for food, lodgings, entertainment, and souvenirs, which always saves me an enormous amount of money.

How Travel Insurance Saved My Life

Thank You, Access America!

If you love to travel, don't test your luck; you never know when it's going to run out----Get Travel Insurance!

I was only a week into my 30-day Latin-American vacation through Mexico, Panamá, Colombia, Ecuador, and Perú. Most of my time was spent in Perú where I already had close ties with people developed from prior trips. However, after one-week, I went into the SANDWICH.COM Restaurant in the ritzy Miraflores section of Lima, Perú. I thought because of the location and the international clientele it served, the restaurant staff knew better than to mix local tap-water in its beverages.

I started feeling sick after I got half-way through my drink. The next two days, I suffered from diarrhea. At first, I tried to tough it out thinking after the diarrhea runs its course, I'd be OK. All I needed to do was get some rest—Wrong! Continuing to rough it out believing I will recover naturally, I took a two and one-half our bus ride to Chincha, Perú where I was staying and flopped down on my bed. I woke up the next morning in even worse condition. My kidneys were aching and I was extremely nauseous. The hotel manager heard my moans and groans and called an ambulance.

Fortunately, I had a lot of close ties in this town who arranged for me to be transported by ambulance back to Lima to be treated at a very good hospital, La Clínica Ricardo Palma, which in my opinion, is a hospital that will rival any hospital in the U.S. at a much cheaper cost. The medical staff was absolutely superb, although sometimes I think they gave me a little too much attention. It was also a good thing I had Access America Travel Insurance because I learned that my intestines were infected and I was to be hospitalized for five or six days. It could have been much longer had I not insisted on an early discharge. Contrary to doctor's orders. I spent the rest of my vacation at 75% of my full strength,.

Were it not for travel insurance, I would have had to pay over $4,000 out of pocket or I could have died from lack of proper treatment. Access America Travel Insurance was able to work out a billing arrangement where all expenses were paid. Access America gave me even further comfort by assigning me a case manager who followed up more than once with phone calls to my hospital room to check on my progress.

Go figure, I was so tempted to use the insurance money for something else and am glad I didn't. If you love to travel, don't test your luck; you never know when it's going to run out----Get Travel Insurance!

Don't Get “Taken” While Traveling in Latin America

Avenida Italia (Italy Avenue)
The shopping district in Chincha Alta, Perú

Recently, I was annoyed by one of my blog readers who informed me at the last minute that he is flying to Perú and asked for advice. Because he did not give me enough time to explain all that he needed to know, he ended up spending much more money than he should have. Perhaps, he could afford it and didn't matter to him, but if you want to get the most out of any trip, it is imperative you do some homework before hopping into an airplane! 

Doing the homework is an awful lot of fun as you vicariously enjoy the activities of your trip while being enlightened on what to do and not to do to stay safe and solvent as you will learn where to go and where not to go; how much to spend and how much not to spend.

In Havana, Cuba, I stayed in a community where everything was cheaper than the tourist area, which was a 45-minute walk from my location.

In my last trip, I was in a large supermarket in the business district of Chincha, Perú—population 150,000. I stopped at the poultry section to get some chicken for the family I was staying with in nearby El Carmen. The sales clerk, clearly noticing my foreign accent, instinctively blurted out a price that I knew was rather high. Determined not to be taken advantage of, I called her on her dishonesty, and insisted on paying the proper price or take my business elsewhere. Wisely, she quoted a more agreeable price. 

 

While on layover in Mexico city, I took the metro train to the Pino Suarez section of town where there are no tourist traps.

This sales clerk attempted to charge me what is known among seasoned Latin American travelers as the “Gringo Tax,” that is being overcharged for items and services because one is a gringo (foreigner), and in most instances, are totally unaware that they are being overcharged. This generally happens in tourist areas.

 

It took a little persistence to get accepted by Ecuador's black community up in the Andes Mountains. Maybe they thought I was "Five-0!"

Generally before traveling to any country, I spend months doing research, consulting with others who've traveled there, and particularly with those who happened to live in that particular country. Making friends with residents of such countries on Facebook and Couchsurfing.com has been especially helpful. In the event of Chincha, my home away from home; a place to which I travel regularly, I know what to pay for whatever item or service, and if I don't know, I ask a friend who lives there.

In Cartagena, Colombia, even with a large black population, merchants and street hustlers saw me as a gringo a mile away.

When I do pay extra, it's from the goodness of my heart; not out of manipulation. For example, in my first trip to Perú, I saw an elderly black woman selling homemade cookies at a bus station. As I passed her table, I plopped four Peruvian dollars (nueva soles) on her table and kept walking. I didn't even want the cookies. I just wanted to donate to the cause of a struggling black person whose job opportunities are limited because of the color of her skin.

For $60, I spent three hours hanging out with a cab driver at the beach and around town during a layover in El Salvador

During my travels, especially to a Spanish-speaking country, I steer very clear of tourist areas and fancy hotels, and spend little time as possible with those who speak English. This is how I improve my own Spanish, get a better understanding of the local culture, and save hundreds of dollars by being among local people who naturally know first-hand the real cost of items and services, and due to economic conditions, are much more frugal.

Mourning the Loss of an Ecuadorian Friendship

Gloria Chalá of Quito, Ecuador

She was a traveler's dream! Upon my first visit to Ecuador in December 2009, Gloria took me in, a total stranger as she was  introduced by her daughter, a Facebook friend living in Germany whom I never met in person. Gloria took time between her work hours to take me out, show me around, and even escorted me to the Center of the World, the equator, better known as La Mitad del Mundo. The following December of 2010, I stopped in Quito during a five-nation Latin American tour, and she took me home to be among her family. In Each of my visits, she saved me an enormous amount of money in travel expenses.

Gloria escorted me to the Center of the World—the equator

better known in Ecuador as La Mitad del Mundo 

I was very sad to get an e-mail from Gloria's daughter, Alexandra, in Germany telling me that her mother passed away. At the same time, I felt happy that I stayed in touch with her, made sure to call her yearly just to wish her happy birthday, and even wired money to her on a couple of occasions. Today, as I write this piece, I'm wiring money to her daughter as an expression of my condolences. 

Real friends, wherever they may be in the world, are precious. Unlike your average traveler, I never want to forget the wonderful people I meet, like I did when I was a young sailor in the US Navy. People who take the time and the energy to host us in our travels need to know how much we really appreciate them, and they love it when we take some time from our hectic lives and simply say “hello.” Gloria María Chalá Anangonó, REST IN PEACE.

Sneaky Suspicion (Peruvian Family Connection)

La Calle San José (St. Joseph Street) in El Carmen, Perú

Although, I have not been to Perú in the last couple of years due to my work situation, I stay in touch with my goddaughter Daniela, her family, and the family next door who gives me a place to stay during my visits. About a month ago, I contacted Daniela in El Carmen, Perú by phone and asked how many times she and her family and friends would like to go to the beach in that given month so I’ll know how much money to wire the van driver. She excitedly stated three times. 

I have so much love for Daniela that I try to do things, even while here in the USA, that I think will make her happy. However, I became very suspicious when I called Daniela again and asked her if she wanted to continue going to the beach. She responded yes, but asked that I  wire the money to her mother and not the van driver. She explained that the van driver will not be able to do it, and there was no I that I could talk to him. Daniela added that her mother will find another driver. Sending money directly to Daniela's mother for Daniela's entertainment was what I was trying to avoid. I want Daniela to enjoy her childhood, and not have her family members pocket that money to pay their dad-gum bills.

Last year, I told Daniela that I wanted to buy her another bicycle because the one I bought for her a year or two prior was sold by her family. Daniela was exhilarated by that offer. I got her uncle on the phone and explained that I was willing to pay him a fee if he took Daniela to the shop to buy her a bicycle. I emphatically told him “not” to sell it this time. It is strictly for Daniela's enjoyment. After wiring the money, I followed up with a phone call. Her grandmother got on the phone sounding excited, and assured me that Daniela was extremely happy.

However, when I finally got hold of Daniela, the excitement that she initially expressed was no longer there. She sounded very sad, and told me that she needed $100 for school supplies, Hmmmm—very strange. With my travel experience, I know how adults play games to fleece gringos. It’s just a shame that they would train an 11-year-old to be so dishonest. if my father ever caught me doing such a thing at that age (and he did!), that was an automatic “ass-whipping.” I have a sneaky suspicion that Daniela did not receive the bicycle. Just last week, I asked her if she would like me to buy her a bicycle. She said, “yes.” Then I immediately asked, “what happened to the one that I bought you.” She then realized, so it seemed, that she spilled her own beans, and insisted that it's in the house.

During my visits to Perú, I would always take care of Daniela personally. I bought her many gifts that she no longer has. What happened to them? I remember teaching her how to tell time when she was 7, then bought her a clock for her room. That clock immediately disappeared. Did her family sell all those gifts for cheap profits, or what? At one point, I was sending money directly to Daniela’s mother and grandmother with the understanding that the benefits of those funds will trickle down to Daniela. Maybe this is so, and maybe not. Meanwhile, I’m trying to think of creative ways to bring more joy to Daniela's life without people capitalizing on my generosity. Sooner or later, I will think of something!!!