28 December 2008
I’m sitting at Puerta (Gate) 15 at the Panama City International Airport, waiting for my connecting flight into Managua. It’s about 5 pm…
The first thought after the clouds cleared as my flight started to descend into Panama City was, “Wow – I’m actually in Panama.” It gave me the flutters. Unfortunately, I don’t have enough time to explore the city – I’ll be stuck in the airport the whole five hours during my layover.
From what I can tell, the city is pretty small and surrounded by rolling hills, lush mountains and a generally much prettier landscape than Philadelphia, but then again, I was in a plane…
My second thought – holy smokes, I need to learn some Spanish. Fast. The airport is easy to get around in. It’s small and almost all the signs are written in Spanish, with the English translation, but not everyone speaks English. I don’t think I’ve been so scared to order a pizza in my life. I have a feeling this is going to be more of an eye opening experience than I expected.
Oh, I totally chickened out when it came time to order the pizza. Instead, I opted for one of the premade ham and cheese (ugh) sandwiches, trying to get out of the situation without too much harm to my ego. Alas, I still felt like a fool when they told me the total of my bill in Spanish. I’m pretty sure my eyes went crossed. Silly American, at least learn how to count!
Guess I’ll start reading my “Spanish for Dummies”… (Thank you Rachel! You’re a life saver!)
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