The Waiting Game

I am finding more and more that I am frustrated when other people don't work on the weekends; usually this is because I need something done ASAP. About a week ago, I received word that my rare mangrove propagules (which are vital to my experiment in Florida, central to my dissertation research, and NOT easy to get) had been collected. Great! I hired one of the boat drivers who works with the Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute in Bocas del Toro to visit some faraway sites and collect 150 propagules (aka seeds) for me. That was the easy part. Next they needed to be sent to me, either to the US, or to somewhere in Panama where I could pick them up. The latter option was better because I could accompany them on their journey and make sure the proper documentation was presented at the appropriate times. However, when I asked for them to be sent on Friday, no answer. No work on the weekends. My anxiety was based on the fact that these are live plants, not dormant seeds, that need to stay moist in order to remain viable. But because they are moist they are more likely to rot/mold/grow fungi and therefore not travel well. So Monday through Wednesday I called to ask where my propagules were, and repeatedly got the answer, "they'll be sent tomorrow." Once again, it is sometimes hard to convey a sense of urgency and actually be understood in Panama. I had to pick up the propagules by Thursday so I could turn them in to be inspected by the Panamanian authorities, get a phytosanitary certificate stating they were clean of pests and soil, etc. and then get on the plane with them on Friday. On Thursday at noon I arrived at the Smithsonian headquarters to pick up my package and behold! They were not there. The person in charge of packages told me the propagules were on a truck that someone had out at the moment, and he would return in an hour and half and could I please return then to pick them up? Now, why on earth were they on a truck and not at the loading dock where they were supposed to be? Though this was extremely frustrating, I could do nothing but wait. Luckily I only had to wait 45 minutes and then I carted them off in the direction of the vegetation inspection people. Their office was hard to locate, and the taxi driver had to call them on my cell phone at least 5 times before we finally arrived. I turned in my precious propagules and waited...I could call the next day (Friday, the day I was supposed to fly home) to see if they passed their inspection. I went to a hotel near the airport and waited. The next morning, just as I was getting ready to call, my phone rang. The propagules received a clean bill of health! Woo hoo! That was what I was worried about--after waiting three months for my collecting permit and four months for my export permit, waiting to receive the propagules and hoping they were still moist--but the propagules were sanitary and I got my certificate stating so. Now all I had to do was board a plane, show the forms in Miami, and I could start planting the next day!

But not quite...at US customs, I showed up to "Agricultural Control" with my plants, expecting them to be inspected. Guess what? Agricultural control doesn't actually DO agricultural control. What a surprise! No one from the US Department of Agriculture is on duty to inspect the quarry of law-abiding, permit-carrying citizens. Sure, they will confiscate fruit you bring in, but to have my permits looked at the propagules had to be sent elsewhere to the USDA inspection station, which of course is not open at 8 o'clock on a Friday night. Great. So I left the Miami airport propagule-less, hoping and hoping that they will survive the weekend AND pass their US inspection AND be returned to me while they are still viable and I can plant them. So now I wait...