This archipelego of more than 365 islands (one for each day of the year!) - most of them uninhabited - lies just off the Pnamanian coast in the Caribbean. The islands are governed by an internal group of Kuna Indians who have lived here since well before the Spanish Conquest, preserving their culture and language. We anchored among the islands and took a tender to a slab on concrete protruding into the water from a mass of densely packed thatched huts. We were immediately surrounded by little indian kids each holding up a watercolor drawing, obviously made by the kid, who offered them to us for "one dollah," the lingua franca of the Kuna where you can take a photograph of anyone but only for that one dollah price. While many of the men work on the mainland, the women line the narrow dirt paths wearing costumes with intricate designs called molas, fabrics with intricate stitching and appliques based on local themes, geometric patterns and stylized fora and fauna. Addtional molas, for sale, are hung on the fences everywhere in dizzying array and can cost from $5.00 to over $100.00 depending on the size and quality. Often a woman was accompanied by a very young child, many with a small green parrot on his/her head - or a small puppy or kitten or even a rabbit, anything to entice you to take their picture (for one dollah). I got a great shot of an old woman, dressed in her intricate designs, bead bracelets around her arms and legs, a tattoo (or at least a painted line) down her nose and smoking a pipe. One dollah, which disappeared immediately into the intricacy of her outfit. The sellers didn't seem very interested in serious negotiation even when Ted offered to buy 30 molas at $4.00 each instead of the asked-for price of $5.00 for one. After walking down most of the streets - it took maybe an hour - I grew extremely hot and weary and took the tender back o the ship where there were many indians, mostly children, in hollowed out canoes bobbing around near the ship, apparently waiting for a can of soft drink to be thrown down to them. (We've been warned not to do this. It could lead to serious injury to the kid.) Shortly after I returned to the ship, the Rotterdam, a Holland America ship, joined us at anchor. Imagining all those many more people in the small village made me happy I had gone ashore earlier.After Ted and Bill returned we had carbonara outside at La Terrazza, in our favorite spot, with Harland and Fritz and Henry all vying to carry our plates. What a grand way to live!
The sun was blistering hot and since my legs are still raw and swollen, I tried, at the Bridge instructor's daily urging, to join a Bridge game. However this crowd has gotten to be a clique-ish lot, not welcoming to newcomers. Oh well, I guess it's more fun to play with those you already know.
We weighed anchor at 4 PM and sailed immediately for Cartegena where we will be tomorrow - leaving the Rotterdam, on a world tour, and the Kuna and their molas behind.
I had enjoyed the lecture on Puccini so much that I went to another opera lecture, this time on Mozart. Although I don't normally associate Mozart with opera, our lecturer considers "The Magic Flute" one of Mozart's greatest works, which like the composer himself contains elements from the bawdy to the sublime.
After great anticipation and the best of intentions (paving the road, as usual), in the end I missed the crew's show. After dinner, I needed a short nap and Bill and Ted agreed to knock on my door at 11:30 for the midnight show. I didn't wake up from that nap until 2:00 AM. I guess I needed the rest.
Tomorrow: Cartegena.
Stay tuned.
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