Panama, Primed

"Homeland is so many lovely things/ Don't commit to memory the lessons of dictatorship and detention/ Homeland is a sentiment like the gaze of an old man/ It is the sunshine of eternal spring / It is the smile of a newborn little sister."

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Diversity on display

IT'S tough to make a nation out of a young republic with so many disparate ethnic elements, Blades would later explain. Until 1903, Panama was a provincial outpost of neighboring Colombia.

Panama's fabulous folkloric diversity went on display on the last full day of my visit, a sunny Sunday when the heavens suspended their daily tropical downpour. It was the Desfile de las Mil Polleras, a parade named for the "thousand" folkloric dancers dressed in Panama's typical gown of frilly lace and colorful embroidery.

This year, Blades invited other groups to join the \o7polleras\f7 in their march along broad Avenida 50, propelled by musicians pumping out a furious pace with a tropical flair. The result was a surrealistic carnival of people of African and European descent, of Native Americans and mestizos on foot and on floats, streaming past bank buildings and luxury car showrooms, some in feathered headdresses and others dressed as devils, dragons and tigers in outlandish, big-headed costumes.

At the front of it all was Blades, pushing forward like a cultural pied piper in his crisp guayabera and straw hat.

As tourism minister, Blades is promoting the country's indigenous cultures as a national asset. He hopes to turn responsible tourism into an engine of controlled development in such areas as the pristine but impoverished Kuna Yala, along the Atlantic coast.

By far the most unusual group I discovered on this trip was the Congos, descendants of African slaves from the area around Colon, the busy port on the Atlantic side. They originally settled there after escaping from their white masters, who remained primarily on the Pacific side, where they were safer from pirate raids.

As a legacy of their defiance against slavery, the Congos do things backward, flipping words, wearing clothes inside out and playing rhythms that are called \o7atravesa'os\f7, or crisscrossed. I first saw them perform at Xoko, and I was entranced by the women chanting African choruses while men blew whistles and couples did an aggressive mating dance. Their steps, little jumps and shuffles, look easy until you're invited to join them on the dance floor, as I was to my utter embarrassment.