Now, I'm no polyglot, but I fucking try. I have a translator app on my phone that works regardless of signal, so, if worse comes to worst, I can tap out a message and the magic of technology can read it to someone. Did this gormless excuse for a traveler have anything other than SLOW AND LOUD English? Nope. I walked away.
That made me think of some humorously bad Spanish from English phrases, that could, barely, be conceivably uttered. I will plead the 5th if anyone asks if I have done so, without it expressly being for humor.
Good Spanish: hasta luego which means "Until later"
Bad English: hasta lechuga, or hasta la culo. The first means "until lettuce" and the second...I'll leave you to discover.
Good English: I believe in miracles
Bad Spanish: Creo en miercoles, or "I believe in Wednesday."
Yeah, that ain't gonna fly.
He ran off across the road and through a gate into a multi-million dollar property. If it was in the States, I'd have called him back to bite me so I could sue, but here? Nah. However, the adrenaline from the encounter gave me a boost for the rest of the run to set a PR on the route. So there's that.
I went to sleep still a bit stressed, but when I woke, and went for a run culminating in a sea swim, I realized it wouldn't be any better for me in the States than it is here, and here is cheaper, there is a beach 200 feet away and a bus ride to the largest shopping mall in Central America is $6.
The only thing missing is companionship, and that's been missing for five years anyway. Maybe I'll head to Picasso, get a beer and see if either John will show up for a nice chat. It's likely I'll get to pet Dingo or Lucy, and a damn certainty I'll have a beer or two in the tropical warmth and read my book.
Viviendo la vida Panama. Viviendo la vida buena.