El que piensa que ser maestro es fácil, no ha tratado de calificar 174 papeles en una noche. Pero, ¿qué puedo decir? eso es parte de mi carrera. Vamos a continuar la historia.

Adios Balboa Elementary – hello Ft. Gulick!  Ft. Gulick was in Colon – one of the nine provinces in Panama. The Army base was surrounded by rainforest - ¡Era un escenario majestuoso! Really, the beauty of God’s creative hand all around our house was incredible. There were little monkeys that sounded three times their size, tiny lime-green colored parrots that circled in our backyard, a woodpecker in one of the hollow trees behind the house… And a beautiful lake across the wire-fence.

For reasons I don’t remember, I started 4th grade a couple of days after everyone else. Lo que si recuerdo, es haber visto algunas peleítas porristas bailando y saltando fuera de mi ventana. I would have loved to go outside and join them – but when it came to dancing in public, I was awkward to the 1oth power. Those couple of days, as I watched the little cheerleaders practicing – I learned the routine in my bedroom and sang “Straight-up now tell me” to myself. I wished I could dance – but that was one talent I had not been granted.

 

So by the beginning of 4th grade,  I was definitely not wearing my hair in pigtails. I was a young lady – a young lady who was crazy about her hair. I brushed it morning, noon and night. My hair was past my shoulders, reaching almost mid-back. Recuerdo que teníamos una vecina, la mamá de mi amiguita Xiomara, que me hacía unas trenzas francesas preciosas. After I let my braids go, my hair looked all pretty – like the mermaid in the movie Splash.  And every time I went to my grandma’s house in Chame, the neighbors – las mellas - would put my hair in a gorgeous high-ponytail they called: Una Fuente      - a fountain.

I loved my hair! Simplemente dicho, me fascinaba mi cabello largo, color café, ondulado en partes y lacio en otras. If there was something that I thought made me pretty, it was: my hair. You see, before I continue…me in 4th grade is one thing I have to illustrate.

Since I can remember, my face has been round. Small hazel eyes (most of the time – they change color when they feel like it); nice, plump latina lips, and chubby-chubby cheeks. Some people’s faces change as they grow – mine - ¡No’ombe, mi cara se ha quedado igualita desde kínder! I wasn’t thin, but I wasn’t chubby…always a good little eater. So when I began 4th grade at Ft. Gulick Elementary School, with my long light-brown hair loose past my shoulders, I was pretty confident it was going to be a great year…or so, I thought. 

My teacher’s name was: Mrs. Chisholm. I can’t remember too much about her physically – thin, full-grey hair, unique fashion style – nonetheless; I can remember that at first – she didn’t like me very much.  ¿Por qué?  You might ask. Well, because I loved talking, just about as much as I loved my hair. And since I would finish my work fairly quickly, talking is what I did most. I remember having to press my nose against the cold, green chalkboard many times at the beginning of the school-year, angry/embarrassed-salty tears streaming down my fat cheeks, as I stood behind the class (there were two chalkboards). Was it my fault I already knew some of the material? Sometimes, adults can be SO UNFAIR! Es que no entienden que uno se aburre.

 

But then, a couple days into the school-year, I was placed in the TAG class once a week (Talented And Gifted). I was also in track. This helped calm me down and led Mrs. Chisholm to give me alternative assignments. Although I was a bit of a chatterbox, when it came to performing in public – I was quite shy.  Another one of my passions has always been: singing – just not when people are staring at me… or for that matter, not doing anything where people are staring at me. My mom tried to help me out with this by putting me in a Shotokan/Karate class.

So can you see me? Little bit nerdy…little sporty…girly and a bit bossy – eldest child.  y lo mejor…!está por venir!

El verano antes de comenzar 4to grado era uno de los más lindos en mi vida entera. Really, I think the summer before starting 4th grade was one of the best summers in my entire life. Looking back, I can genuinely say that the summer that followed was the exact opposite…but we’ll get to that later.

The summer before I began 4th grade—Oscar, Carmen and I spent most weekends at my grandparents’ house in Chame. Chame was a little town, about an hour away from Panama City. Mi abuelo tenía todos tipos de árboles frutales sembrados en el patio. Mi favorito: coco. On top of having all types of fruit trees in the backyard, the dirt was actually a grayish-black beach sand: perfect for all kinds of architectural projects!  The mango trees provided all the shade necessary to create and recreate worlds of all sizes; and if we got too tired, there were two hammocks that welcomed fatigued bodies.

One weekend in particular, Oscar, Carmen and I were playing in the backyard with five of our cousins: Charlie, Chabo, Lucy, Ligia-Elena and Dee.  It was noontime, the sun was shining intensely, and the trees were working their magic to keep us cool.  Charlie and Chabo were the eldest and always came up with what games to play; Charlie led that day.

«Okay, yo digo que formemos dos equipos para ver quien crea el mejor pueblito de arena.»  

So three of us joined Charlie’s team and the other three joined Chabo’s. The little ones were sent out to search for sticks and get cups of water, so the others could begin “constructing” houses and other buildings in the sand. Each team was determined to build the best city. While we were all diligently working, the ninth cousin arrived.

«Ya llegué,” Lee said, as she walked down the steps, sipping a soda and rolling her eyes at us. (I guess because we were all covered in muddy-sand.) Like I said before, Dee was tolerable and for the most part, likeable; but Lee, Lee was a snob.

«¡A nadie le importa!» Charlie yelled.  “Really, no one cares.” He went back to molding his skyscraper.  

Lee then sought to call attention to herself again. «Miren mis sandalias amarillas nuevas» she said in a very prissy tone. None of us bothered looking up; so then Lee raised her voice.

 “Look at my new yellow sandals!” She dangled her right foot in front of us. “They are from the most expensive pharmacy in Panama—they cost $8.00—and I bet you wish you had a pair” 

Still, no one paid Lee any mind.

A couple seconds passed…

“Hey, what are you doing?“ Lee asked.

Now most of us would have ignored Lee, but Charlie’s mind was always going.

“We are architects and designers competing to build better cities; do you want to play?“ The grin on Charlie’s face was totally mischievous.

Longing to be included, Lee motioned “yes” with her head. 

“Está bien, pero te tienes que quitar los zapatos.” Charlie looked at me and Chabo and then back at Lee. “Take your shoes off and join Chabo’s team.”

Lee left her yellow sandals on the greyish-black sand and eagerly joined Chabo’s team. As Lee started forming her house, Charlie slowly stood-up and walked over to the new sandals. Charlie made sure Lee was distracted and then began to throw sand on them with his feet. As Lee turned around, Charlie pretended to stretch and motioned me over to the sand-pile to do the same. One by one, cousin by cousin, we threw grey sand onto the yellow sandals and nonchalantly returned to our “cities”. And then, Abuelo walked onto the back porch.

«Ya abrió Falin. ¿quién quiere raspaos? » Abuelo had three dollars in his hand.

Now if you have had shaved-ice, you have a vague idea of what a “raspao” is—but you are not even close. Falin was the man who owned the stand. He would place a big block of ice down on this red machine, shave it, and then pour natural fruit juice – of your choice- into a cone of ice, before layering it with condensed milk. It was DELICIOUS…like little bits of heaven blessing your taste buds!    

As we all made a mad dash towards Abuelo and our shoes, Lee noticed her sandals were missing.

«¡Oye!» Lee yelled. “Where are my new yellow sandals from la Farmacia A?”

We all gave each other innocent looks and shrugged our shoulders; «¿Quién sabe?»

My grandpa made Charlie get Lee’s sandals out of the sand.

 To this day, Oscar, Carmen and I laugh uncontrollably when we remember las sandalias amarillas de la Farmacia A.