A Police Arrest In The Park
The other day, early afternoon, I pulled my head out of the computer and walked out on the balcony for a breath of fresh air and a view of park goings-on. Suddenly a young guy came running off of the sidewalk below me and out across the street into the park. That immediately caught me attention because no one here even walks fast, much less runs. Sure enough, right behind him was a policeman with his night stick in hand
giving chase.(It was one of the bicycle policemen in the 'bermuda shorts, sneakers, bike helmets' uniforms). The young culprit to a couple of routes through the park, obviously assuming he was going to outrun the chubby little police office - which was wrong. About the time he changed tactics and jumped up on the park wall to exit the park onto the street, two other bicycle policeman pulled up right where he was headed. He stopped dead in his tracks and put his hands out to his sides, palm up in sort of a shrug of resignation. Chase over!
This situation is worthy of mention for a couple of reasons. First, I hadn't thought of it before, but in my 10 months here living in the middle of David, this is the first time I have seen police officers interact with a citizen in a law enforcement mode (other than writing a parking ticket, or beeping their siren to urge someone double-parked to move on). I have mentioned before the large police presence here, police officers from all the different divisions are constantly visible. But, the police presence is benign. Sort of like the 'Irish cop walking the neighborhood beat' type of presence. Policemen on foot speak to people and stop and shoot the breeze, though always staying observant. The officers on bikes converse with people as they ride by and the motorcycle guys park their cycles and stand around and talk to the street merchants and passer-bys. On karaoke nights when they usually have a good crowd in the little bar around the corner, the police in the squad car pull in some time during the evening
and come in a have a soft drink and shoot the breeze. (The lieutenant kids me by calling me "Colonel" because I had on one of my Air Force ball hats the first tine I met him. I counter with a promise that if he is nice to me, I'll get him promoted. His partner, Sargent Lopez, always insists he is going to find me a girl friend, to which I counter that, if he does, I'll get him demoted).
The other thing about the incident in the park was the demeanor of the police officers during and after the apprehension. Although the officer giving chase had his night stick in hand during the chase, when the culprit stopped and 'gave up', the officer holstered his club, stopped running and very calmly just walked up to him. When he approached him he talked to him very calmly, never raised his voice, didn't wave his arms around, never got in his face in any way. The guy surrender the bag he was carrying and then turned around put his hands behind his back, and was cuffed. The two officers who headed him off had initially reached for their clubs, but didn't pull them out when the guy stopped. And, they never approach the culprit until the arresting officer waved them up a few minutes later after the guy was cuffed. They then walked him back across the street and waited right underneath my balcony about 15 minutes for the paddy wagon to come pick him up. From my vantage point, I could see the paddy wagon coming for about three blocks, and it worked his way through traffic, never turned on flashing lights or the siren. The officer in the paddy wagon talked to the officers briefly when he arrived, then talked to the suspect, opened the back door and motioned him to the back seat of the truck.
Not once during this entire encounter did any of the officers raise their voice, or evidence any kind of threatening behavior. And, no one at any time made any physical conduct with the culprit - did not touch him!. Even when they walked him across the street, no one took him by the upper arm to guide him (which I thought was standard), but, instead one of the officers hooked his index finger over the linking chain of the cuffs and they directed him by gestures and voice instructions. And once while they were waiting, the officer asked the guy something, evidently if the cuffs were too tight, because the officer removed them and after the guy rubbed his wrists for a minute, carefully reattached the cuffs.
None of this is too surprising when you consider a recent controversy over a plan to reorganize the national police force which reveal a lot about the Panamanians' attitudes towards law enforcement. President Torrijos proposed adding additional divisions to the existing National Police force as part of a big multi-national program against the drug trade, a large portion of which is being funded by the U.S. The new organization would add new divisions of Border Patrol, Immigration, and (AND) a secret police force. Well the public rose up in arms over the plan to the point that Torrijos withdrew the proposal and is redrafting one that will completely reorganize the entire police force, a considerably more expensive option. What were the big objections? First off, various public interest groups felt that the new organization would resemble too closely the organization structure of the military police during the Ortega military dictatorship years. Yea, the organization structure! But the kicker was the secret police idea. Their role would have been secret surveillance of people in an effort to thwart the drug trade. The agency would have had the authority to monitor phones, emails, and business dealings of suspects without judiciary or legislative overview and without prior court approval. No way, they said. Too much like Noreiga's "goon squad." Sound a lot like some of the anti-terrorism measures put in effective in the U.S. post-9/11?
Panama And The Olympics
Panama is a sports-crazed county. And, unlike Costa Rica where all the sports mania is concentrated on a single sport - soccer (el fútbol), the Panamanian's sports fervor is spread over all types of sports (well, except winter sports). Baseball is the national sport, but U.S. college and pro football, baseball and basketball get a lot of TV coverage here. A lot of people have their favorite college football teams (predictably in a catholic county, Notre Dame is a big favorite), and NFL teams' logo-ed hats, shirts and jackets are common wear. The retired major league baseball superstar Rod Carew has a street named after him in half the towns throughout the country, and there are three sports stadiums in the country renamed for boxer Roberto Duran.
Even given that background, you can not even begin to imagine the tense anticipation this entire nation experienced when Panamanian Olympian, Irving Saladino, qualified for the finals in the long jump. On the morning of the long jump finals, the country virtually came to a standstill in front of TV sets, and a TV crew broadcasting live, was stationed in front of his parents home in the port city of Colon. And about 10AM, when Saladino won the gold medal, it set off wild celebrations all over the country that were still going on here in David at 10PM. Impromptu motorcades were still roaming throughout the city screaming, honking horns and waving giant Panamanian flags. In Colon, officials closed off the mid-city streets to vehicular traffic for eight hours concerned about pedestrian revelers safety.
President Torrijos proclaimed Saladino a "national hero" saying that Saladino represented "the perseverance of the Panamanian national spirit." Torrijos then appointed a cabinet-level committee to organize his homecoming celebration (which is now scheduled for four days, two of which will be national holidays, and will include a nation wide tour allowing for victory parades in all the major cities of Panama). Torrijos then renamed the big government sports complex under construction, "The Irving Saladino Plaza."
To put all this in historical perspective, Saladino is only the fourth Central American athlete to win an Olympic medal of any variety, the first Panamanian to win a medal in 60 years, and the first Panamanian to ever win a gold medal.. In 1948, Panamanian sprinter Lloyd LaBeach won a pair of bronze medals in the 100- and 200-meter sprints. And the Poll sisters from Costa Rica won four medals between them in swimming events in 1996. Claudia Poll's gold medal in the 200-meter freestyle is the only other gold medal ever won by a Central American athlete.
In closing, an interesting side note. In all this clamor about Saladino, it caused me to reflect on the week before when Panamanian Olympian Bayano Kamani navigated his way through the heat qualifying process in the 400-meter hurdles. By contrast with the excitement about Saladino accomplishments, Kamani's televised win in the semi-finals (which qualified him for the finals) was met with noticeable indifference. So, as the furor was going on about Saladino, I asked some friends about last week's reaction (or lack of) to Kamani's successes. I didn't fully understand the answer (Spanish), but the gist of it was, "Kamanai is not a Panamanian, he is an Americano." Well, that smacks of a prejudice, something that is just not Panamanian in character (see my discussion on 'prejudice' below). So I looked up the restaurant owner, Jorge, my English proficient friend for clarification. Well, it is true that Kamani is a U.S. citizen, born in the U.S. of a Panamanian father. So, technically he is a citizen of both countries - kind of the reverse of John McCain, who was born in Panama. But, as it turns out, Kamani's problem with the Panamanian people is not a prejudice or a citizenship issue. Kamanian was also was a member of Panama's 2004 Olympic team, and he prepared for both Olympics by training in Panama with his teammates for the year prior to the games. When he arrived here prior to the 2004 games, Kamani got a lot of press attention, and when asked why he didn't speak Spanish, he responded sarcastically that he was "in Panama to run", and that he "did not have time to learn a language." Oops, ruffled a few feathers. He made matters worse a couple of days later when he decided to lecture the assembled reporters, informing them that he "had no use for Spanish in his home state of Oklahoma", and that there were "no Olympic medals awarded for Spanish." Ouch, now feathers really flew. Kamani's reaction to the negative press that ensued? He then refused (and still does) to use even the common Spanish conversational terms that are picked up by most tourists on Day #1 of their visit here, e.g., por favor, gracias, hola, como estas?, etc. Goodwill Ambassador? No! How is that for the Olympic spirit? The Panamanians are too polite to root against him, if for no other reason he is wearing their national colors. But, that doesn't mean they have to cheer for him. Hmm. And, I guess their is no correlation between running speed and IQ - or, maybe there is a reverse correlation.
Panamanian Humor
I had introduced you a while back to the campesinos in Latin America (the Latino version of what we in the U.S. refer to as 'rednecks'). Well, it turns out there are campesino jokes. A couple of days ago one of the guys told a joke in the bar, and it was a guffawing knee-slapper to everyone. Everyone, but me that is. Well, maybe it was a translation problem. So, my friend Jorge repeated it to me in English, and the guys who spoke a little English roared all over again. It goes like this.
A gringo tourist stops a campesino couple who are walking through the park and asks them for directions to Panama City. The lady asks her husband, "Do you know where that is?" The campesino gent responds, " Sure. Sir, if I were you, I would start from someplace closer than here."
OK. ????? I guess you had to be there.
Prejudice in Panama
One of the really refreshing things about this society is that the Panamanians are virtually prejudice free. And that includes race, gender, ethnic origin, religion and just about anything else you can think of. The police chief in David is a woman, as is the deputy Governor of Chirique Province, over a third of the Assemble Nationale, two Supreme Court justices, and four federal cabinet ministers.
The homogenized mixture of the my neighborhood in the central city appears to be a reflective microcosm of the country. My friend Jorge, the owner of the Restaurante Orly (and a hotel and a disco), is a Bolivian immigrant whose father is Japanese. His brother-in-law is a Tico (Costa Rican). The Orly's assistant manager is a Venezuelan. The big taxicab company next door is owned by a Mexican and a Honduran. The Chinese restaurant across the street is also the home (upstairs) to the Chinese family who immigrated here two generations ago. A kosher bakery is in the same block, about a block from the synagogue. The Italian restaurant, Tamburelli's, is 3-store chain, founded and run by a family that immigrated here from Sicily.
The mixture of after-work 'semi-regulars' at the Orly is representative as well. The Panamanian contingent includes a lawyer (who spent his teenage years in the U.S.), a local banker, the assistant manager of the electronics store, a police officer, a couple of cab drivers, and three construction workers (a plumber, an electrician and a carpenter). Add in a Tico cab driver, a Colombian who is the here as the rep for a Columbian electronics firm, a Honduran agricultural consultant, a Dominican who owns the biggest bakery in town, an outboard motor mechanic from Peru, and a Nicaraguan long-haul truck driver - to name just a few. And it is not because immigrants are absorbed into the culture so that they lose country-of-origin identity. As soon as a Spanish-speaker starts talking, everyone with in earshot call tell what country they are from, maybe even what part of that country they are from. By the way, about once a week 'the boys' are joined by Madeline, who owns three beauty shops and is as close as you will ever get to the Latino version of Roseanne Barr. Occasionally, she is accompanied by her sister, a woman that - well - makes Janet Reno look like a Playboy model by comparison. As you might guess both of these women are a hoot!
Those times that I have thought I had seen an indication of prejudice, it turned out I read the tea leaves wrong. There is a big (6'5") broad shoulder, real handsome young guy that comes in once in a while. I overheard him being referred to as China (Spanish pronunciation - 'she nha'), and initially thought was a racial reference. Well, his father is Chinese, but it turns out that China is an affectionate nick name they tagged him with years ago, and he even introduces himself as China. And, down here terms that would be considered slurs elsewhere - China (applied to all orientals regardless of country of origin), Tico, Nica or Gringo - are merely used as descriptive terms. And the black guy who hangs around downtown and flits in and out of the Orly, is referred to rather disparagingly as Negra (black). Turns out the disdain is not because he is black, but because he is a a wacko blow-hard. I have also listened to people express dislike of both Colombians and Nicaraguans, yet when you pursue it a little you find something different. They all have friends and acquaintances (maybe relatives) from both countries, and they are really expressing a frustration about something much different. Most of the crime in this country is concentrated in Panama City and Cologne, mostly drug related, and with almost 80% percent involving Nicos and Colombians - people who often as not also illegal aliens. That is what they are really talking about.
Another Olympic Note
U.S. swimmer Michael Phelps' performance in the Olympics was phenomenal, but my vote goes to Dara Torres. The 41-year old Torres, a five-time Olympian and the oldest American swimmer ever, added three silver medals in the Beijing games, raising her career Olympic medal total to 12. Her first Olympic appearance was at the 1984 Los Angeles Games. That happens to be the year before Phelps was born!
Words To The Wise
"The things we subvert to our subconscious, often return in the future - accredited to fate"
Karl Jung
Stranger Than Fiction Revisited
Robert Kearns died of cancer in 2005 at the age of 77, four decades after perfecting the automobile intermittent windshield wiper design in his basement workroom. Though he was granted several patents for his mechanism, he spent two decades waging an obsessive crusade against the auto industry, which he accused of stealing his invention. He ultimately filed lawsuits against 26 companies. Although many of these suits were tossed out of court, he won separate judgments against General Motors and Chrysler (this suit went all the way to the Supreme Court), that ultimately brought him more than $30 million. Various sources reported that his legal expenses over the litigation years exceeded the amount of the judgments awarded. Even more ironic, Mr. Kearns had been offered out-of-court settlements on numerous occasions that exceeded the $30 million, but was adamant that he wanted a court ruling confirming that the companies had stolen his creation.
The stranger than fiction part? The idea came to Mr. Kearns from the irregular, and uncontrollable, blinking of his left eye, which eventually went blind. His eye was damaged when struck by a champagne cork on his wedding night. So, add this to the list of possible bad outcomes of a wedding!
The Sno-Cone Economy
As you can see, competition is intense.
But, it isn't good to have a flat tire.
You can also make some extra $$s by renting out ad space to political campaigns.
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The park is beautiful at night.
And, the only time it is peacefully quiet is right before dawn.
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Till Next Time. Pura Vida!
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