It was the worst of days

Leaving Panama was a bitter-sweet experience. In order to fully capture the feelings I had, I´ll review the day for you in full.

Today actually began...around one am. I was preparing myself to leave my new friends, life, and the routine that I had adopted in Panama. To the outsider, it may look similar to the summer vacation of a ten year old. But, I had serious questions to ask, and answer...all on my own (occasionally with the help of Jessica and Ian, my vacation family). I had questions plauging me daily like, ¨what should I do today¨ and ¨where is the meat-on-a-stick guy¨ (for the record, that question went unanswered).

Anyway...

1am: I began the packing process. I could have started earlier, but I really need to cut my fingernails and my toe nails, before anything else was done. The packing lasted an hour, as I enjoyed looking through my guidebook and contemplating why it is that I have so much stuff.

2am: Bed
6am: I woke up to my alarm clock. I loaned it to the girl staying in the next bedroom over, so she could get up for her flight in the am. It didn´t wake her up. Instead, I tip toed into her room, and woke her up.
8am: My neighbor returned my clock, and I fell back asleep dreaming of running untrained marathons and using an old printing press
9:30 am: Get up to go surfing
10:30 am: Actually leave to go surfing, and hustled by a bunch of boat drivers
11 am: Surf at high tide, with big swells (yes, I do know what all those words mean...check out the surfer girl)
11:48 am: Get pounded by a series of 6-8 waves, while praying for my life
12:30 pm: Had the most awesome warm shower ever.
1:30 pm: Visited the most beautiful farm and saw the most disguistingly huge banana spiders
2:30 pm: Ran from my hostel to the airport to catch a plan to Costa Rica. On the way to the airport I thought ¨wouldn´t it be great if I stayed.¨ Apparently, the woman who needed to stamp my passport to leave the country can read minds and thought that I REALLY, REALLY wanted to stay.
3:00 pm: Immigration woman wouldn´t stamp my passport to leave the country, because the immigration man forgot to stamp it when I came into Panama. The immigration woman felt like it would be most appropriate for me to go the border and get it stamped there...that is when the border bridge was no longer under a meter of water.
3:10 pm: Hop in a taxi to see where in the hell I put my tourist card, to prove I crossed the border. I could find my reciept for my luggage for the plane ride to Costa Rica in January, but I couldn´t find my tourist card. Had the taxi driver take me eveywhere I could possible think of.
3:15 pm: Cry
3:18 pm: The taxi man took me to the police to see if they would help me. It is weird, plus awesome that my tears although totally, totally genuine, actually helped me
3:25 pm: Beg the pilots to hold the plane, until I figured out if the immigration woman would stamp passport. It was suppose to leave at 3:30
3:28 pm: Watched as the pilots, the baggage handlers, and the police officer tried to negotiate my case with the immigration woman3:40 pm: The immigration woman calls her boss, to see what can be done
3:44 pm: Told the plane was leaving without me
3:47 pm: Told the plane would wait to see what the immigration boss would say
3:49 pm: Talked to the immigration boss, and informed that I was illegal and had to pay a fine
4:00 pm: Got on the plan to Costa Rica...what a relief
6pm: Arrive in Costa Rica
10pm: Fall asleep, at least the day was over!