Beach day. And no, I’m not referencing ‘The Office.’ This past Monday, we had our first beach day as a congregation, complete with sand, surf, and Corona. J It’s sort of an unsaid thing that Monday is the official “day off” for the entire Volcan congregation (a custom we soon adopted after arriving) resulting in Monday being the day for any fun activities.

8:30a.m. sharp and the Russells rolled in to pick the three of us up on the way down the hill to meet up with the other “carivaners,” all headed to the beach. It was actually rather exciting all grouping up and riding down at the same time; sort of like a huge procession to kick start our beach day. I still wasn’t sure the exact beach we were headed for, but we went down through Bugaba and took a long road that eventually turned into gravel as we reached our destination. Along the way, we encountered the full extent of being foreigners when we were stopped along the road by a couple Panamanians in shorts. Our car group was last in the lineup of cars, so we were also the last to be told that these locals were trying to charge $10 per car to continue on to the beach. Tom Blacker (whole prides himself in being a “wheeler-dealer”) had talked them down to $3, but it all still seemed fishy to me. Who are they to charge us to pass along a road? But they gave us an official receipt with some Panama stamp (which I guess meant something) and we continued onto our destination without any other interference. Once we arrived, we unloaded all of our coolers and bags (trademark American way: a “simple” picnic lunch that includes way too much baggage) and made our way to a few wooden boards they called a dock. The adventure of this beach was that to reach the final destination we had to take a sort of water taxi across a shallow river onto the beach area. The other adventurous part? Fitting our whole group of 20 people into the rickety looking boat, coolers and all.  Fun, huh? Once we had all settled in, the boatman (I know that’s probably not the actual title, but it fits) started the motor and we were off. We glided along the water (careful not to “rock the boat”- no pun intended) soaking in the sights of tropical trees that lined the river and other boats that contained Panamanians. We must have been quite a sight, twenty white people crammed into a small boat; so much so that as we passed another boat the occupants took advantage of the scene and snapped a picture. I’m sure they’ll have fun showing that one to friends and family.

Our boat finally pulled up to “la Playa” and we disembarked onto a thin strip of sand that drifted toward some cabanas and a group of people in the distance. The Gilby family had been to this particular beach before, so we followed their lead as they navigated past the crowd of locals to a quieter spot farther down. Finally after a long, hot walk in the intense sun we were able to drop our stuff under our own section of cabanas and relax. One minute in the hot sun, the next in refreshing water. Ahhhh…. Unlike the Oregon coast (where you have to wear a wet suit to swim) the water was the perfect temperate and to quote Goldie Locks, it wasn’t too hot or too cold, but “just right.” Most in the group made their way out to chest deep water and just waited for the waves to come in, rising and then falling with each swell. Richard Gilby also pulled out his boogie board and we each took turns riding waves onto the beach. But most of the time was spent in the game of trying to stay above the waves, jumping each time one rolled in. And whenever we felt tired or got a little too much salt in our eyes, we could easily run up to our spot of shade and take a break. Of course, with me the day also revolves around the food eaten and this trip was no exception. Rochelle Gilby brought a huge watermelon that we all fed off of, along with chips and bean dip, nutter butter cookies (I got those as a tribute to you, Grandpa J) and of course Corona and lime. Perfect. Not that you needed a list of what we ate, but I just thought it would give you an overall feel for our day. The day passed by quite quickly with us swimming, eating, and soaking up the sun. At one point, Vanessa and I took a walk along the coastline enjoying each others experiences and looking for rocks and shells, which I found quite a few of.

After we had our fill of sun and surf, we all packed up to head home, leaving with the sound of the ocean waves crashing in our ears and sand everywhere. The boat ride back over was uneventfully peaceful (although at that point I felt that, once again, I had gotten burnt.) So much for my earlier statement of never letting a bad burn happen again. And unfortunately I’m sure this won’t be the last time in Panama either. Once we had all reached shore we broke off into our separate car groups and drove the bumpy ride home with the Russells; a very quiet car ride due to the energy expelled at the beach. We were all content to sit and veg. Good ending to a day at the beach.