Adventure in Puerta Lada

I am a Bible-toting Christian and I have seen what happens when you stay in tune with the Lord. In 1991, during an Officers’ Wives Club Bazaar in the Amador area of the Panama Canal Zone, I was packing up my table when a friendly woman introduced herself as the Chaplain’s wife. She had watched me at several events and believed I could help. She asked me to come to her quarters at Fort Clayton at 3:00 p.m. the next day. All I could think to say was, “Yes Madam,” as she handed me the house number.

Bazaar Beginnings

I arrived the next afternoon and was welcomed inside. The Chaplain’s wife introduced me to Jeanie Cook, a missionary with deep ties to the Darién. After a warm conversation we went downstairs to a storeroom stacked floor to ceiling with Wounaan and Emberá baskets. Good ones, bad ones, big ones, and small ones. It was a sight that said two things at once. The art was thriving. The system needed help.

The Storeroom of Baskets

Every piece told a story. Tight coils. Natural dyes. Geometric patterns that carried meaning. You could feel the hours in each basket.

How the Cooperative Worked

Jeanie explained the cooperative. Each artist delivered baskets and received a small cocobolo block with an identifying number. The Chaplain’s wife and church women bought some pieces and sold others in town. They placed the money in numbered envelopes and Jeanie carried those envelopes back to each artist in the villages. It was simple and honest. It had also outgrown the team.

Why the System Needed Help

Success brings new work. More artists joined. More baskets arrived. The ledger and the distribution trips were expanding faster than the available hands. That was the real purpose of my visit. Could I help.

Called to Help

A month passed. Then the phone rang. After prayer, Jeanie and her team believed I was the right person to assist. I felt honored. Jeanie invited me to spend a week in the Darién. She and her husband Denis picked me up in a four-wheel drive with a trailer and we headed out.

Eight Hours to the Rainforest

The road was dirt the whole way. Thank God for the dry season. We rolled in after dark. Denis used a flashlight to unlock the house and light two kerosene lanterns. I was shown a room with a cot. A hair dryer would have been a joke. There was no electricity. After two hot diet sodas we turned in for the night.

Daybreak in the Darién

Morning began with a good breakfast on a gas cooker. Their son Chad appeared and got right to it. After coffee he said, “Come on, I will show you around and we will distribute some money.” He handed me a backpack and kick-started a motorcycle.

“Hop On” the Motorcycle

“Get on behind me,” he said. I wished we had a mule. We crossed rivers and bridges. Where there were no bridges we walked. On steep grades the motorcycle refused to haul two people, so I climbed while Chad powered up alone. We were deep in the sticks.

A Backpack With Purpose

During a break I asked how much money I was carrying. Chad said, “About seven thousand dollars.” I muttered that we were crazy and about to get robbed. Everyone knew what the Cooks did. I figured it was only a matter of minutes before we met our Maker. Chad smiled and said, “Do not worry. We are doing the work of the Lord.” I hoped the Lord was listening closely.

Fear and Faith on the Trail

Fear did not vanish, but it fell into place. The purpose was clear. We were on a mission to pay artists fairly and on time.

The Bridge Incident

Near Puerta Lada we came upon a jeep hanging crooked off a wooden plank bridge. The right rear wheel dangled over the edge. Two men, both doctors on their way to give vaccinations, paced and planned. We told them to wait while we found help.

Power of Community

In the village, Chad explained the problem. I have never seen anything like what happened next. The whole village surged onto the path. Men, women, children, and dogs. Someone brought a rope. After a short debate in their language, they tossed the rope over a tree limb and tied it to the rear of the jeep. Twenty men pulled in rhythm until the wheel swung back onto the bridge. A roar went up. Then everyone jogged back to the village as if this rescue was just another task on the day’s list.

The Big House Gathering

We met in the community Bohío, a large thatched-roof building where decisions are made and visitors are welcomed. Chad called out numbers. A woman stepped forward, showed her numbered wood block, and I placed the envelope with her matching number in her hands. No one in that room was happier than I was to watch the backpack grow lighter.

Handing Over the Envelopes

The method was simple and strong. Numbers matched names. Cash matched trust. The cooperative kept dignity at the center of the process. By the last envelope I felt both relief and gratitude.

Lessons From Puerta Lada

• Relationships build fair trade faster than price sheets.

• Simple systems beat complex promises. Numbered blocks and envelopes work.

• Pay on time and document the exchange.

• Travel with trusted local partners.

• Expect the community to teach you. The bridge rescue was a lesson in unity.

• Faith and common sense travel well together.

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FAQs

1) Why use numbered cocobolo blocks
They give each artist a clear identifier that matches the payout envelope. It is a low-tech system that works in remote areas.

2) Was it safe to carry cash
We took reasonable precautions, traveled with locals, and moved with purpose. The community’s support was the best security.

3) What did the cooperative solve
It solved access to market. Artists could weave, deliver to a trusted partner, and receive reliable payment without costly city trips.

4) How did faith guide decisions
Prayer shaped the team, the timing, and the courage to continue when roads, bridges, or nerves failed.

5) What if a basket was not high quality
Quality varied. The cooperative encouraged better work through feedback and fair pricing that rewarded skill and time.

6) Why tell this story now
Because ethical sourcing in Panama still depends on humility, trust, and practices that honor makers first.

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Conclusion

Puerta Lada gave me a real education in faith and fair trade. A long dirt road, a rope rescue, and a community gathering in a Bohío showed me what dignity looks like in action. I left with an empty backpack and a full heart, and I still use what I learned every time I buy from artisans in Panama’s Darién.