The Pictures I Couldn´t Take

People have been commenting that the pictures I´ve posted really help to tell my stories. I noted that some stories come with pictures I can´t take. I´ll list a few of those:

A man with one leg on crutches walking in the middle of four lanes of traffic.
The man who sits in the same place on the sidewalk with his cap in his hand asking for money.
The Kuna women in beautifully colorful clothing ... carrying babies in blue jeans and t-shirts.
The boy walking with his hand on his mother´s shoulder.
The countryside, with rolling hills and exotic trees, different shades of green, changing, it seems with the falling rain.
The charming thatched-room home of the folks who live in those hills.
The faces that look peaceful, weary, wise, lost, numb, majestic, frantic, amused ...
Armed policemen in tan, green, or black ... on foot, bicycles, and four-wheelers.
The madness of the traffic -- tranque, it´s called.
The engaging and inviting smile of one particular busdriver.
Maximo, the Kuna who spoke to me on my birthday.
The cramped, dim, and disorganized mini-super corner stores that tend to have most of what you need.
The young men hanging from the doorways to busses announcing where the busses are going.
The men of all ages sleeping on corners, in doorways, and on park benches.
The young people in school uniforms.
The gigantic grocery stores and lines and lines and lines of people waiting to check out.
The sea of faces in the bus drivers´mirrors.
--- Oh, and imagine if I had audio! ---

I´ll update this as other images occur to me ... and I´m hoping you get a sense of what there is to ... well, experience, because it´s more than just seeing it or reading about it.