Panama & the Sans Blas

Our first stop in Panama was the very non-touristy city of Santiago de Veraguas. Even the bus driver seemed surprised when we were getting off there. The reason? Because a few days later, we were running the Ultra Trial Panama, a 40km race in Santa Fe, which was just an hour-and-a-half bus ride north of there. We spent four days in a guest house in Santiago, running a little bit, working, and yet again enjoying cooking home-made meals. Well rested and well-fed, we headed to Santa Fe, ready to run.

The race started at 4am, but thankfully we were staying just steps away from the start line. One of the organizers worked very hard to make sure that everyone had accomodation in the small town, which normally doesn’t receive such a large influx of visitors all at once. We stayed in the home of a man whose house used to belong to his grandmother. There were two bedrooms on the main floor, plus a loft upstairs lined with beds ready for the runners. The bedrooms were already reserved, so we stayed in the loft upstairs.

The first couple of hours of the race were done with the headlamps on, as it was completely dark out. You had to be careful on the way up the first climb not to step on any frogs! Just as we were reaching the summit of the first climb, the sun was peeking out over the ridge line. It was one of the most beautiful sights we had ever seen - we almost started crying from the joy of witnessing it, while also doing our favourite thing - trail running!

The race was going really well and we were enjoying it, though it was, of course, getting harder as it went on. The route was a beautiful mix of jungle-esque trails and some big climbs with views. We were in high spirits - until we, unfortunately, got lost on the course. With just a couple of kilometers to go, we came to a ‘y’ in the road where there was a big arrow directing you to take the path to the right, so we did. Sadly, this arrow was for the 70km race, not the 40km. We were running along, lost and frustrated at what had happened. That’s when we came across 3 other runners sitting alongside the road. They were three guys from Costa Rica who had made the same mistake that we did. They had already found a local farmer who was going to come and pick us up in his truck and take us back to the place where we got lost. The five of us were disappointed but made the most of it - and still finished the race, in the end. The positive? We now have trail running friends in Costa Rica who have invited us to come visit them after our trip is done.

The next morning we made our way back to Santiago and then on to Panama City. It was here where we would be tackling our next adventure: Getting to Colombia!

There is no way to get from Panama to Colombia on land due to the dense and dangerous Darien Jungle, known as “The Darien Gap”, between the two. The only way without taking planes is by taking boats. There is a way to just hop along the coast paying your way via the local boats, however, after researching it we decided to go with a 4-day, 3-night tour of the Sans Blas islands with the company Sans Blas Adventures. This is because we found that, by the time you pay all the boats and accommodation in the villages along the way, the price wouldn’t be that much cheaper, and it would be more stressful and less fun.

The island tour was really fun. The first two nights you sleep in hammocks, on two of the islands, and then the last night you sleep in a hostel in one of the indigenous villages on the island of Caledonia. Along the way you stop at different islands for various activities: snorkeling, volleyball, and cultural exchange with the Guna Yala peoples who live on the islands. We even saw sharks while snorkelling!

The entire stretch of the Sans Blas from Panama to Colombia is an autonomous region owned by the Guna Yala peoples, who many years ago fought for their independence against the Panamanian government. We met many wonderful people on the trip, and became particularly good friends with a French couple who had been living in Montreal. The trip had three non-Guna Yala guides (A Colombian man, a Costa Rican man, and a volunteer woman from Belgium), as well as four Guna Yala guides. The food was amazing and the islands were stunning. We didn’t always have the best weather, but our guides made sure the group stayed in good spirits and even convinced us to play beach volleyball in the rain.

Arriving in Colombia was a bit hectic. We arrived in the very isolated town of Capurgana, where electricity often shuts down, meaning that checking in is difficult. This is particularly problematic for Canadians, as we have to pay $80 USD every time we enter the country - and it has to be by card. If there is no electricity, therefore no internet, you can’t pay - and therefore you can’t leave. This was problematic for the other Canadian girl in the group, who had a bus ticket already booked for Cartagena the following morning. The woman working at the customs office wanted to go home, despite not having really worked that day due to the lack of electricity. Julie, however, made sure that she didn’t give up and go home, and she ended up being able to borrow some internet from the business owner next door’s phone. He hotspotted the credit machine so that both Julie and the other Canadian girl could pay the fee.

After four days of island hopping, we finally arrived in Colombia. We thought that was where our Sans Blas adventure would end, but then our Guna Yala guides gave us the opportunity of a lifetime: They invited us to their village of Armila to participate in a traditional Chicha Fuerte celebration.

We stayed in the village of Armilla, which isn’t actually on the islands, but rather it backs onto the Darien Jungle. One of our Guna guides, Benicio, took us on a tour of the whole village, explaining how everything worked, their way of life, and more. We saw where they were making textiles, we swam in the river that opens up into the ocean, and we played volleyball with the local kids. While the kids in the village really love soccer, the number one sport is volleyball - especially for the girls. Benicio coaches two girls’ volleyball teams: A junior and a senior team. They were preparing for a tournament coming up in a few months against the other villages. The girls trained very hard, from two to three hours per day, and they were good. We played against them and they kicked out butts.

The chicha fuerte ceremony was also something quite special. The Guna Yala celebrate chichafuerte for three reasons: The birth of a baby girl, a girl’s first period, and then finally her coming of age. They paint the baby or girl’s entire body in a purple paint that comes from a fruit found in the jungle. The juice from the fruit acts like a temporary tattoo, so the girl’s body is purple from head to toe for about 15 days. The chichafuerte that we were invited to was to celebrate the birth of a baby girl.

The ceremony started with all the women of the village parading into a tent, carrying the baby girl wrapped in giant banana leaves. In the middle of the large tent, the women gathering around while the girl’s grandmother bestows blessings on her. For the women of the village, the chichafuerte ceremony is mandatory. The only reasons for not being there are if you are sick or if you are pregnant. This is because the ceremony also involves drinking a lot of chichafuerte - a drink made of fermented cane juice. The women in our group were given traditional clothing to wear for the ceremony. It was beautiful, but also challenging. The Guna women are very small, so finding clothes that fit the North American/European women was quite tricky. Everyone eventually found something that worked.

Once the blessings were finished, the baby was taken to bed. Then, the men entered the tent from the opposite side. Before coming and greeting the women, they have to greet every single man in attendance. In small groups, they each hold bowls of chichafuerte, do a little circle dance, and from there it’s bottoms up! Next, they can come over and interact with the women as well.

The ceremony isn’t over until all the chicha has been drank, and there is plenty of chicha to make sure that everyone has had more than enough. They even have members of the baby’s family who sit in a circle in the middle and their job is to make sure that all the chicha is drank before anyone leaves. The grandmother was so drunk that she eventually had to be carried off to bed by some family members. There were about 200 people in attendance and only 20 bowls for the chicha, so anytime you were handed one, you had to drink it fast.

Once the chicha was done, we all continued the party over at a place that I am still not 100% sure if it was someone’s home that they converted into a bar or if it was actually a regular bar. Either way, plenty of dancing ensued, until Jo and I decided that we’d had enough and it was time for bed. When we got back to our hut, I could barely climb up into my hammock!

The next day we expected it to be quite in the village, but this really wasn’t the case. Many of the families were still celebrating and the men told us that there was another ceremony next week, so they were planning on continuing the party until then.

For our last night in Armilla, we had the most incredible opportunity yet. Along the Darien coast, there are tens of kilometers of uninterrupted, completely wild beaches. These places are a haven for female leatherback turtles to come and lay there eggs. It was egg laying season, and there was a biologist from Panama city staying in the village to track and monitor the turtles and their eggs. She was also there to educate the Guna Yala, so that they could help be an active part of the conservation of these beautiful animals. When nighttime came, we went across the river with the biologist to walk down the beach in search of an egg-laying turtle. We were told that this could mean a few hours of walking, but we were in luck: We found a female turtle digging her hole for her babies within minutes of arriving on the beach.

We were watching her do this, when the biologist turned to the group and asked: Would anyone like to help me? Julie immediately put her hand up, wanting to get right into the action. Julie’s job was to count the eggs as she laid them. The turtle would start by laying large eggs, the actual babies, and then near the end of the process small, decoy eggs. These little eggs serve two purposes: They provide essential minerals like nitrogen as well as oxygen to the growing baby turtles while they are still buried in the sand. Additionally, they act as protection from other animals such as wild dogs who may want to eat them. The dogs will smell the eggs and start digging, however, they will first come across the small eggs, which taste horrible. One bite of the little eggs and they will leave them alone.

Counting the eggs was tough. I (Julie) wore gloves and had to hold the turtle’s back left leg/flipper out of the way so I could have a clear vision of the eggs as they were coming out. The large eggs would sometimes come out two to three at a time, so you had to be quite focused. The small eggs would then start coming out at the same time as the large, making keeping track of each even more challenging. Finally, a wave of small eggs would be laid, which often came out in groups of five or more at a time, making it tough to get an exact count. All told, the turtle laid 70 big eggs and close to 30 small ones.

Jonathan helped the biologist measure the turtle’s shell and body - from head to tail she was the same length as I am tall, and the biologist said that was small for a leatherback. We also learned that, just like when human women give birth, female turtles have a huge wave of hormones that pass through their bodies. They have to excrete them, and they do this through their eyes. While she was busy using her back legs to bury her eggs, she was excreting copious amounts of hormones from her eyes. It looked as though she was crying, almost as if she was crying for the 70 little turtles that she will never actually meet. It was very emotional, and we were all crying watching her.

By the time she was done covering up the nest, you couldn’t even tell that she’d been there at all. The biologist had taken measurements from the shoreline and the treeline so that she would know where to come back to check on the babies. We all stood there watching her make her way back to the ocean, where we said our goodbyes. The biologist said that she would likely swim as far as Canada before returning the next year to lay more eggs, so I asked her to say a quick hello for me when she arrives in Canadian waters.

With that, we said goodbye to the Guna Yala and Panama, Julie paid the Colombian entrance fee for a second time, and we started out on the next chapter of the adventure in Colombia.