Day 26—Evil Car Rental Places and Albrook Mall

Last day in Panama, I tried not to be too giddy, and the fact that I hadn’t slept well since we got to the city helped.  We knew that  the day was going to be trying, because we needed to return the rental car to a specific location. The problem, besides all the one way streets in Panama, is that the address provided cannot be found by google maps, nor any other mapping programs available. So I had it narrowed down to a couple of streets, and I had studied the google maps for which direction the streets went, and I had written out a detailed map, but I knew how it was going to be, and I wasn’t looking forward to this challenge. 

(Our plan B was to stop a taxi, and pay them to lead us to the address).

So we got up, got dressed (left Emma at the apartment), and headed out.  The first turn was a success.  The second turn worked out correctly.  And then, who the hell knows.  Suddenly streets started making unpredictable twists, and I was like, “Wait, this street wasn’t supposed to dead-end!” and voila, we were lost again.  Dammit! 

So we just started to circle around, around, and then got caught on a one-way street that appeared to be taking us away from our destination. But we couldn’t turn back, because every street we passed was a one-way street headed in the wrong way.  It was soooo frustrating.  We kept looking for street signs (because there actually are a few), but every time we found one, I couldn’t find it on our inadequate map.  Argh! Finally, we figured out that we were on Via Brasil (I asked a stranger walking down the street), headed (or so we thought) toward Via Espana.  I know the Advantage rent a car place is one or two blocks from that intersection.  So I called my dear friend Juan. 

“Juan, hello, this is Lisa again.  We are trying to return the car, we are on Via Brasil headed toward Via Espana.  How do we get there?”

The call dropped out. (Mas Movil , supposedly Panama’s best wireless carrier, has been, to say the least, disappointing) Undeterred, I called him back.

“You will see a mumble Depot.  Make a right one block past that and we are the second building on the right.” He explained.  I thought he said a Home Depot, but it was an Office Depot.

“OK, got it, thank you so much Juan!” I felt really confident at this point. 

Of course, since there are no street signs, it was very difficult for us to tell which street was Via Espana.  After a few more U-turns and swearing, we finally made the correct turn, and we FOUND IT! Oh we were so relieved and proud of ourselves. Woohoo! High-Five!

 A destination of less than a mile, as the crow flies, took us just under an hour. Sigh.

So we went inside, fully expecting to see Juan and thank him, but he was nowhere to be found.  We waited quite a while and then some guy (who ONLY spoke Spanish, came in and started the LONG process of checking  in the car.  (Seriously, I never realized how great we have it in the U.S., where they simply check the gas tank, and it takes you all of 5 minutes to get on your way.  I’m sure glad we weren’t trying to catch a flight).

First, we handed him the ticket that Juan said we could pay there, and he looked confused.  But then he turned the ticket over, and (I think) called a number on the back and put in our “offense” code.  He then punched a number into a calculator to inform us how much the ticket would cost us.

$75.00 pops up. Wait, WHAT? $75.00 friggin’ dollars! God, I hate this place!

I had read somewhere online that the ticket should cost about $26.00.  Who do I believe? Well,  it didn't really matter because I couldn't argue with someone who didn't understand a word I was saying! So I immediately tried to calm myself down.  After all, I reasoned, the same ticket in the U.S. would cost a lot more, and count against Sean’s driving record.  Deep breath.  OK, I internally shrugged, it could have been worse.  (But how do I know he is not gouging us on the ticket price? A nagging voice inside my head whispered).

Then he went out to look at the car, and when he came back, he informed us that there was a scratch on the back bumper.  WHAT? I knew it, they were trying to rip us off.  Sean and I walked out to the car, and I swear, it was just one of those scrapes that you can rub right out.  I use spit, and rubbed a spot clean.  We went back inside.

Do you see anything, other than dirt, wrong with this bumper?

“It’s just dirt.” I tried to explain.  He shook his head, and showed us a photo of a bumper on a digital camera that did not have the scrape.  I kept thinking, that picture didn't have a date stamp, nor did it show the license of the car.  Juan  has a half dozen of the EXACT SAME CAR, SAME COLOR on the lot. How do we know that is a picture of the car we rented? Then he showed us the “walk around” form.  

You know the one where they mark all of the dings and scratches, and he points to the bumper area on the form, where there is no notation of a scratch.  I can’t argue with that, but even I wouldn’t have noticed the dirt on the bumper when we rented the car, so of course IT’S NOT MARKED!  

I tried to argue this point, but he just kept showing us the picture.  Steam is coming out my ears at this point, because there was no friggin’ damage to that car!  In all of our harrowing drives around this country, Sean never hit anyone or anything. (Which is sort of small miracle, really).

“Is Juan here? Where is Juan?” We asked. 

“No, Juan es no here.”  Hmmm….how convenient. 

Finally, a guy named Roberto,who spoke English, shows up .  He showed us the 'damage," and showed us how that area was not marked on the green form. 

Finally Sean asks the dreaded question, “How much?”

The response was immediate, “$130.00”

Wow. How did they come up with that precise amount so fast?  Do they have some sort of Panamanian bilk to balk ratio chart? I was livid at this point.  I have never in my life been ripped off by a rental car company.  (Maybe I’m just lucky). We just stood there stunned.  Finally, I blew a gasket.

“Fine! Fine!  Why not?!” I yelled, “ We are obviously rich with lots of money! Why not?!”

“THIS WOULD NEVER HAPPEN IN AMERICA!” (OK, so that last statement may or may not be true, but it sure felt like it at that moment). 

The two men just stood there in stunned silence. Maybe they’re not used to fed-up, fiesty American women.  

Or this may have been an ugly American moment (in response to an ugly Panamanian moment!).

(I truly appreciated Sean’s yang to my yin in this instance.  He stayed calm in the face of this mess, but as soon as we got home, he called our credit card company and contested all of extra charges—Yeah, Sean!)

I felt so frustrated and ripped off.  I stormed outside to cool off, and to figure out the best way to grab a taxi.

Unfortunately, I was summoned back in because I had to use my card to pay.  Really? I had cooled off enough to be embarrassed by my outburst, but still steaming mad about feeling ripped off.  All I wanted to do is grab a taxi and get out of there.  Our $300 car rental had morphed into just over $800.

Sean then informed me that Roberto would be giving us a ride back to the apartment. 

Oh, that’s not going to be uncomfortable.

By time we got back to the apartment, all I wanted to do was lay on the couch and read a book.  But soon we were hungry for lunch, and as this was our last day in Panama, we wanted to get Myles a present at the mall.  So we headed for the Albrook Mall where there is a Conway store (reputed to like our Target stores), and loads of food choices. 

We grabbed a taxi, and we were quoted $8.00 for the trip there.  A little steep, but not off the charts, so we agreed.  It was so relaxing not to have to drive, but unfortunately the driver had so much aftershave on that I started to feel dizzy in the back seat (no seat belts either, which worried me, because I’ve seen the way these guys drive).  He stopped at one point and negotiated an avocado vendor down from $.25 to $.15.  We probably should have haggled with this guy.  At one point, the driver rolled down the windows, and it was instantly hot and muggy.  (Sean later informed me that he had “broken wind” and tried to casually cover it up by suffocating us with the smell of diesel). 

The Albrook mall is so big, that they have animals at each entrance to help you remember where you parked.  It was an overwhelming mass of stores, restaurants, lights, noise, and people.  We did our shopping, and then had lunch.  Same old, same old. We opted for fast food because we had decided that we did not really like Panamanian food. 

Ok, seriously, why does the nun have a bullet hole in her head?  This is a Conway store, normal bowls and cutlery next to bizarre religious iconography.  

"Chicky Pack?" Yes kids have fun eating the cute, adolecent chicken for lunch. 

El elefante, to help you remember where you parked. 

We got a taxi ride back to El Cangrejo for $6.00--sans the smell, and with seatbelts! The added bonus was our driver enjoyed talking with us, and because he was patient and persistent, I got to practice my pathetic Spanish one last time. As almost everyone said, taxis are definitely the way to go in the city. 

We went back to the apartment to pack up and prepare for an early morning.  I may or may not have done a happy dance.