Panama: An identity built on the canal
I always wanted to see the Panama Canal, a desire that must have found its roots in the history and geography lessons I had as a child in the French education system. We were taught of the innovative technique a French engineer called Ferdinand de Lesseps used to pierce the isthmus of Panama, that thin band of land connecting north and south America. His invention, we were told, was revolutionary for the advance of civilisation as he succeeded in cutting a continent in two. As a child I was amazed. How could we cut a continent in two and why the two halves had not drifted away now that they were separated?
So, when I realised travelling in Colombia that I was so near Panama (it’s only an hour’s flight from Cartagena in Caribbean Colombia) I jumped at the opportunity. My planned hopping trip was made easier by the presence of old friends who had moved to Panama City six months previously and were happy to host me for a couple of nights.
As I arrived and met my friends at the terminus of the airport shuttle, they drove me to their residential compound, a gated area where most expats working for the United Nations live. Their apartment was in a modern condominium dating from the 1990s and made of low-rise buildings spread across a 30 hectares park. Apart from the tropical climate and the exotic birds flying around, I could have been anywhere. Inside, the apartment was well equipped with a vast kitchen and large bathrooms, an indication that space is not yet an issue in Panama City unlike in other metropolises (if we can call Panama-City a metropolis with half a million inhabitants).
They explained that they were located in the former American gold roll zone, a fenced-off area in a 15-kilometre radius along the canal, where American Law prevailed and US managers and their family had their private residence, schools and an exclusive commissary with imported groceries. The area’s name derives from the discriminatory payroll system put in place in the 20th century: a gold roll for American managers with a maximum of benefits, and a silver roll for lower-grade workers, who lived outside the privileged American zone and were mainly Black Americans, southern Europeans, and people from the Caribbean islands.
When in 1999, the canal area was returned to Panama following a lengthy negotiation between the two countries, the former gold roll zone became a residential area for international expats. The initial concession before the building of the canal had stipulated that the USA would forever own it, however, the people of Panama rebelled against it and eventually an agreement was found. The story of the canal and how it formed the country’s identity, is well explained in the fascinating Canal Museum in Casco Viejo, the neo-colonial centre of town built at the same time as the canal.
The Panama Canal was Ferdinand de Lesseps’ biggest dream and ambition. He was the engineer who revolutionised global navigation when he completed the Suez Canal in 1869. Thanks to his foresight, ships no longer needed to take the painful journey around the Cape of Good Hope at the tip of Africa; they could sail directly from the Mediterranean Sea to the Indian Ocean via the Red Sea. Carried by the success of his venture, De Lesseps looked at replicating a canal in Panama to shorten sea journeys from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean and vice versa. But Panama was not Egypt. Instead of a flat and semi-desert arid land, De Lesseps found an untouched tropical jungle, a biodiversity paradise that turned into an inferno for the builders who succumbed to malaria and other fevers.
Technically, the project was far more complicated: a path had to be cleared through the dense forest, and the existing waterways that needed to be connected through a canal to allow smooth navigation between the two oceans, were not levelled and needed a complex system of locks. De Lesseps didn’t understand it immediately, he continued to stubbornly dig and dig at the cost of many lives. Unlike the image I had built as a child of a continent split apart in a straight water line, De Lesseps was trying to make use of existing rivers, but these were made of capillary tributaries meandering through the jungle, which were impossible to figure out, let alone to dig or expand.
In front of the human disaster he provoked, investors lost confidence and withdrew from the project. An international call to raise public funds through the issuance of stocks failed too. De Lesseps who, two decades earlier had been celebrated for his technical achievement in Suez, was now discredited and became the laughingstock of the satirical press. He died soon after, however, his idea continued to brew in the mind of others.
The Americans were interested, as they were considering the opening of a maritime route from Florida to California. They sent a mission to study the project again and stayed. With the technical insight they had gained, they understood what De Lesseps’ technical hurdles had been and managed to overcome them. The canal was completed in 1914 and for nearly a century America ruled the place.
The identity of modern Panama was built on the canal’s story, and today its people are a melting pot of the descendants of workers who settled there. Nothing seems to pre-date the canal apart from wildlife and nature. Contrary to its name, Casco Viejo is not as historic as the Spanish colonial towns built in Central and South America and doesn’t have the same authenticity. It was an early 20th century creation which replicated various architectural styles from the fashionable art Nouveau of Europe to the traditional colonial style of neighbouring countries. Recently restored, it feels more like an imitation than an old living city, which is not surprising considering that most people have always lived in the outskirts. The centre was mainly a social and cultural meeting place for wealthy dwellers. Its main point of interest today is the compelling Canal Museum hosted in one of the grander colonial buildings.
After visiting the museum (and taking the time to read every single explanation board), I spent the rest of the morning wandering around Casco Viejo, walking through its cobblestone alleyways and geometrical plazas. A few rounds and coffee halts later, I realised that I was walking on the same street and plaza over again and began to lose interest. Casco Viejo is very small and not particularly vibrant apart from a few market stalls and boutiques selling Panama hats made in Ecuador.
For a regular family who is not into yachting or money gambling (and all the associated activities Panama is known for), life in Panama can be limited. Outside of work and school, there isn’t much to do apart from sports. Europeans who are used to a wider cultural choice, find it particularly difficult. Trekking into the wild jungle and staying with one of the rare tribes whose livelihood has been preserved is probably the most fascinating trip on offer. However, it is an extraordinary one that residents take only once, as it involves driving to the end of the southern road, taking a pirogue up a river for a few hours, walking through the jungle for another few hours and staying in the most rudimentary conditions without running water and cooking facilities. Protected by their utter remoteness, these tribes have remained isolated from the rest of Panama as they were before the construction of the canal.
My friends took me to see the canal. In my naivety of the place, I had imagined being able to walk along it and see the mega-vessels sailing from one ocean to another. Instead, the area is completely fenced off and we can only see snippets of the canal in the rare spots that allow it. One of the locks, the Miraflores lock located a couple of kilometres from Panama City, has been turned into a tourist attraction: an imposing building and tribune have been built around the lock, which hides the view and makes it impossible to see anything unless paying the 20 US dollars entry fee. I passed on that one and contented myself with a poor photograph taken from over the fence, but at least I saw the canal.
Sadly for my friends, the Panama experience has precipitated the end of their marriage. He was quite happy with the tropical lifestyle, having a good job, his family around and trekking at weekends. She found it unbearable not to be able to work and after a year, she moved back to Europe alone. As one UN official who recently visited Panama City put it: “I can see how one could rot here.”
