Here are some more pics. There are still a bunch more to come. I apologize because I know its either feast or famine with these pictures (usually famine). But it takes just about forever to upload the damn things and I've been really busy otherwise. Give me a break, will ya? Jeez.
Terraced farming. It's hard to tell how steep it is from the photo but thats a Double-Diamond at least, I assure you.
You better cut out that cock-a-doodle-dooin' little fella, or I say- I say, I'll make some pollo McNuggets outta yous.
This was from a hike we did. That's the volcano.
Super Bowl Sunday. Pooch. Futbol Americano.
Some Indian kids staring at you with those eyes, peering deep,deep, all the way down into your soul. When they look at you they know your secrets.
Carnivale Update: On Monday evening I went a-walkin' and came across a softball game being played by some locals (the teams were made up of males and females ranging in age from about 8 to about 50, it was amazing). Within literally five seconds of watching I was asked if I wanted to play. Of course. I hustled into left field. It turned out to be a good acquisition for my squad as I went 5-f0r-5 with 3 RBIs and two nice plays in the outfield. The game almost ended prematurely when our only ball went into the river, luckily our savvy outfielder headed it off downstream to pluck it from the water.
On Tuesday we went to Dolega to see what all the fuss was about. We found Dolega, normally an empty, dusty outpost on the way to David, swarming with human beings eager to get some sinning out of the way. The local music hall was throbbing with people and the aforementioned unfathomably loud salsa, merengue and Spanish rock music. Behind it there was a miniature stadium for cockfighting. This was like the Madison Square Garden of cockfighting; it was well-lit with terraced seating and had a sort of chicken lockerroom and weigh-in area. But, it probably had more spectators than a Knicks game (Daaaammnn - Zing). We watched for a minute or two then determined it wasn't a particularly interesting thing to watch.
While observing some of the dancing, two interesting gentlemen approached us and offered me a seat to dance with Nancy. They were pretty drunk and seemed unable to speak English or Spanish. They were nice fellas but defnitely odd. One of them even straight up asked me if they could have Nancy but the other told him that she was my girlfriend. We decided that was a lie we could live with so we ran with it. We also determined that they were authentic Latin American drug dealers albeit on a very miniscule level. After we'd had enough of them we slinked away and hopped on the bus back to Boquete and that was our Carnivale experience.