Panama's Logistical Wonderland

I'm no expert on logistics, but writing about international business has required me to learn a bit more about the way goods move around the world. Strange, tangled trade routes stretch like spiderwebs across the globe, linking unlikely nations in lucrative commercial partnerships. Shipping companies, air cargo freighters and railroads coalesce in transportation lines that bring Chinese-made toys to American Christmas stockings, Peruvian asparagus to American dinner tables, and outdated and unsafe American school buses to Panama for use as public transportation.

Panama, a nation of only about 3.2 million inhabitants, sits at one of the main crossroads in worldwide trade. The narrow, east-to-west isthmus of land between Costa Rica and Colombia separates the Pacific and Atlantic oceans by only about 50 miles at its narrowest point. The Panama Canal, one of the most impressive engineering feats man ever conceived or achieved, provides a shortcut between the two, allowing ships laden with cargo to skip about four weeks of sailing around the southern tip of South America and save millions of dollars in operating costs. The canal has three sets of locks - the Miraflores, Pedro Miguel and the Gatun.

I learned on a recent trip that the Canal is the magnet that draws business through a country that doesn't have much of its own consumer market to speak of. More than 80 percent of the goods flowing through Panama will never actually touch Panamanian soil or land in the hands of a consumer there. A $5.25 billion expansion project will add a new set of locks, allowing it to handle the largest vessels in the world, known as "Post-Panamax" ships. But the Canal is not the only logistical advantage the country has to offer. As it has drawn the world's attention - and money - Panamanians, with the help of foreign investors, have learned to make a few bucks off of auxiliary logistical enterprises.

Three ports - Cristobal, Evergreen and Manzanillo International Terminal - operate on the northern - Panamanians call it the "Atlantic" - coast of the country. Cristobal is run by Hutchinson, an international ports company with operations in 22 countries. Evergreen, a massive American shipping agency, runs its own port to manage its considerable inflow of goods. Manzanill International, or MIT, is a Panamanian-owned company housed in a beautifully remodeled building that served as a high school when the American military still guarded the area. And all of these ports have the advantage of the Colon Free Zone, where $16 billion of goods are traded annually. MIT and Cristobal have expansion plans in the works.

The same is true for the Port of Balboa, the only one on Panama's southern, or Pacific, coast. Also operated by Hutchinson, Balboa is gearing up for some major additions. An inlet is being filled with imported sand and more cranes are on the way.

The Panama Canal Railroad, which is half-owned by Kansas City Southern through a joint venture with MI-Jack, links the two ports, providing a cost-effective alternative to the hefty Canal fees for ships that would have had to off-load cargo on the other side anyway. One passage through the Canal can cost from $250,000 to more than $330,000, depending on the ship's cargo capacity.

The country is improving its air service as well. Tocumen International Airport has injected millions of dollars into remodeling projects. Two years ago, the customs counter in Tocumen was a cave. Now it's airy and freshly painted. Customs officials sit at wood-veneered counters and smile at passengers as they stamp passports and visa paperwork. Copa Airlines offers regional connectivity with flights to nearly 40 destinations.

Not bad for a country with a total population smaller than the metropolitan area of Houston.

Panama: The Return

It's been two years since my feet touched Panamanian soil, and as far as I could tell from the drive from the airport to the hotel, not much has changed.   COMPARE the narrative from two years ago. 

In fact, it was quite a flashback for me to disembark from the Delta 757 that brought me here on today's only flight from Atlanta to a country that prides itself on being a crossroads for international commerce and the last bridge between Central and South America. 

As I made the short walk up a small ramp into the customs area, the smell of grilled food still hung in the air, left over from an earlier, busier time in the terminal.  Blue and yellow signs of Tocumen International Airport welcomed us to a new land, which is closer by plane from my Georgia home than some parts of the American West and definitely much more convenient than the 14-hour marathon I took to Shanghai, China, last month.

In 2006, I snapped photos of the welcome sign.  I wonder if the fact that I didn't this time means I'm maturing as a traveler or just that I'm less enamored because I've already been here before.  Maybe a trip to a less-familiar place would have rendered me trigger happy.

The customs counter was a breeze compared to America.   The people were actually nice, and they've widened and brightened the light blue and white walls of what used to be a dungeony area the last time I was here.  They've even installed a DMV-style digital numbering system that directs you to the next available attendant.  After so many uneasy trips to China, it was comforting to see foreigners all around me and to hear the familiar thud of the approval stamp thumping the counters, signaling their official access into the country. 

After baggage claim, this trip began to differ a little from the fiasco that was my last Panama arrival.  Long story short:  This time, instead of a creepy, lurking taxi driver chosen as a last resort after being jilted at the airport by a friend, we were carted away in a Mercedes Benz.  All told it was $32.50 for a half-hour trip.  Extortion?  I don't know, but the convenience was nice and the air-conditioned ride was smooth.  

As in America, billboards are prevalent here.  It's ironic that I noticed this on the cab ride, because I just overheard some people talking at the post office today about how great Europe is because it doesn't have billboards, or at least in Germany; they couldn't really agree.  I couldn't tell you a thing about Europe, but I know the the Koreans (Samsung, LG) are happy that advertising isn't passe in Latin America. 

The Multicentro is still here, as is Super 99, a popular grocery store, and the Hard Rock Cafe and Dunkin Donuts, two very important institutions.  I don't particularly like being the American who clings to recognizable brands while soaking in a different culture, but I have to admit that it's comforting to see things that remind me of the previous trip.  It gives me a sense that I know where I am, even if I couldn't get there by memory if you set me loose with a car.

I'm also reliving another Panama experience: the Country Inn and Suites near the Amador Causeway.  Last time we stayed here for a night of relative luxury before heading off into the wonderful worlds of budget lodges and outdoor camping.  This time I'll have four nights.  Speaking of cultural clinginess, I ate fried calamari and drank Panamanian beer at a TGI Friday's attached to the hotel.  

Tomorrow, work begins.  I might switch my chronicles to a GlobalAtlanta blog once the work information piles up.  If you're interested in the Panama Canal and its interplay with trade flowing through the ports in Georgia and the Southeast, stay tuned.  

COMPARE the narrative from two years ago.