Time flies ... when you’re in Latin America.

When I was about to take my first, long-term trip to Latin America, someone who had been there many, many times advised that I just get rid of my watch. I always wore a watch – and this was before cell phones told us what time it was – so I thought about it, but kept my watch. But on the flight from the U.S. to Panamá, guess what! My watch stopped. I saw it as a sign: my friend was right. I was going to Latin America, where it was more laid back and relaxed, where time was a suggestion, not a demand. Watches?! I didn’t need no stinkin’ watches!

I know I could’ve found a watch battery, but I decided not to, since this was so obviously a sign for me to get into the Latin American groove. The sense of time in Latin America is much more “loose” than it is in the United States. My gosh, people get uptight about punctuality here. If you are to meet someone at 9:00, you sure better be there at 9:00. And I was once working for a job training program where an instructor told the class, “If you’re on time, you’re late.” This is not true in Latin America, where if you’re on time, you are often early. Sometimes very early. 

This is true for parties, too, so be very aware. If you are lucky enough to be invited to a local party and they tell you it starts at 8:00, that really means that is the time they are going to start getting ready. If you actually show up at that time, the hostess will be in the shower, the host will be out getting the beer, and you will be sitting there on the couch, looking like an idiot who has nothing better to do than sit on a couch. The party won’t really get started until about 10:00, and it won’t be at its peak until midnight or so. Be prepared to stay out until the wee hours of the morning. If you don’t stay, you will be the ultimate party pooper. 

This is not to say that nothing is ever on time or that people never show up when they say they will. It doesn’t mean that movies don’t start on time or that when someone is to pick you up at a certain time, they won’t show up until later. No. Punctuality exists, very much so for some people. I’m just saying that if someone isn’t punctual, or if something doesn’t start on time, people don’t have a cow over it. They don’t care. They just go with the flow. “Oh, s/he’s late. I’ll just sit here and read the paper then. Or I’ll talk to the taxi driver about last night's game. Or I’ll just wait and be alone with my thoughts.” I know, crazy. (I am sure many of these waiting people are very likely on their smart phones, texting, and making phone calls these days ... but I am also sure there is a high level of patience attached to those activities.)

So yes, I lived without my watch for quite a few months while I was in Panamá. I didn’t really need it. It's not like I didn’t ever know what time it was or that I never looked at a clock. I still used an alarm clock to get up in the morning. But I think I did pretty well trying to adapt to a new sense of time. It was definitely a learning experience. I didn’t really become a more laid-back person regarding time. But I definitely understand it in a different way when I’m down there.

Before I returned to the U.S., I decided I wanted to buy a new watch there in Panamá. Yes, they sold them there, despite this relaxed way of thinking about time. I went to a store in a mall and started looking at simple, waterproof, big, sport watches. Nothing fancy. I tried them on, and when the salesman found out I was looking for myself, he told me I couldn’t get a man’s watch because I was a woman. That irked me, even though I’m sure he just meant that it wouldn’t fit or look fashionable (right). I bought a watch, ready to tell time again with a simple flick of my wrist. The salesman just shrugged his shoulders in surrender, knowing there was no talking sense to me. 

I still have that watch. I still wear that watch. I have been through many bands, many batteries, and it keeps on ticking (but no, it’s not a Timex). I can’t really wear it in the water anymore because it gets steamed up. And the face is a bit scratched. But I still wear it for any sporty or outdoor activities. I love that watch. I love it because I got it in Panamá. I love it because it’s a man’s watch and I bought it even though a man told me I couldn’t. I love it because it’s simple as heck and still glows in the dark. I love it because I feel it keeps Latin American time. No, it doesn’t make me late. It doesn’t give me an excuse to be late. But I got it in Latin America, the same place where I developed a new sense of time, at least for a little while. I wear it when I’m in Latin America and have purchased bands and batteries in little, family owned jewelry stores in Caracas, Xela, and Oaxaca. I have worn it a lot more often in the U.S. and it was made in Japan, but to me, it is a Latin American watch, telling Latin American time.

Don’t get me wrong, I know plenty of non-Latin American people in the U.S. who are habitually late. And I know plenty of Latin Americans who are never late. But the difference is, the late habit in the U.S. is annoying many people: friends, family, bosses, coworkers. That wouldn’t be the case in Latin America. People would understand or just wouldn’t get upset about it. Time is just part of life, like humidity or a bunch of plantains. It is there, but why think about it? There are more important things to think about, like the fact that friends are getting together or there’s a party at your cousin’s house. Those things are much more thought-worthy than punctuality or tardiness. So just chill out. When you are traveling in Latin America, you might be wearing a watch, but it doesn’t mean anyone else is.