The Watchman of Calidonia

“Look at this beauty”, Luis says admiringly as he brings over a watch. He handles the small device gently and with respect, pointing out its distinctive features. I notice the way the bezel and case give the watch its structure while the crowns and dials facilitate the changing and moving of time.

Luis is a watch repairman based in the heart of the bustling and colorful barrio of Calidonia in Panama City. His workshop, which faces Avenida Central, a street busy with pedestrians and vehicles, feels like a small islet amidst all this flurry. On a Tuesday I joined him in his small minimalist workshop to observe him performing his trade. There were two tables – a long one and a smaller wooden one which serves as his primary workstation. I sat on a white plastic chair and Luis sat in front of me on a homemade work stool made from an orange plastic storage crate.

Luis grew up in Santa Ana, not too far from where his workshop stands today and graduated from high school in 1987 from the Instituto Tomás Alva Edison. He found his passion for watches when he was younger in the same neighborhood where we were now sitting. He had only just graduated from studying car mechanics when he visited his uncle one day who was a watch repairman. As he began to spend more time with his uncle, he slowly became his informal apprentice – starting with beginner tasks such as changing watch batteries. Eventually, Luis began to sell watches with his uncle and was surrounded by watches on a regular basis.

That was 27 years ago and now, Luis is an expert watchman is his own right. He is an artisan who repairs older and newer watches and uses spare parts to service the watches his customers bring by. As Luis continued to work during our conversation and describe his technical work, his unequivocal appreciation for both the fascinating mechanism of a watch, as well its artistic aspects are evident. He also shares stories and photos of his family from his phone - including his daughter and grandson.

Luis answers me patiently as I ask various questions about how watches function and what the differences are between types and models . He quickly pulls out a large plastic storage box heaping full of watches and sprawls them across his spare table. These are items that clients have left behind and never picked up from him. I longingly wondered about the story behind each abandoned watch – who had left them behind and why? I didn’t have much time to entertain this thought, as I was listening attentively to Luis who was defining the details of the watches he picked from the pile. I may have missed some of the technicalities, but his knowledge, fascination and confidence on the topic were clear. I watched Luis using his magnifying loupe - a staple tool found in a modern watchmaker’s workstation to easily see and maneuver the small parts of a watch. He occasionally pauses from replacing watch batteries to look up and greet clients and friends passing by the store and shouting over “hola”.

With some caution and hesitation, we spoke in-depth about his sometimes-complicated past, but always with honesty. It became clear that Luis has a gentle heart, an open mind and was being frank in our conversation - a conversation that helped me appreciate the watch as a tool and a vessel of the present moment. A watch doesn’t look at the time in the past nor does it tell you the time of the future. In this same way, I remember only the moments I spent with him in his little workshop in Calidonia that one Tuesday.