Hola todos… Hoy, el día se sintió un poco largo. Yeah, it really did feel like the day was dragging on; nevertheless, let’s continue the story.

Asi que la Tía Ana le dijo todo a mi mamá. Tía Ana told my mom about Tonta and how I wouldn’t give in to her claims that Santa was real. My mom was not surprised; my mom knew I had a little lawyer within me. Oscar was feeling better and soon it was time to go to Panama.

We arrived in Panama right after the Just Cause invasion. I really didn’t understand the whole “invasion” thing; all I knew was that a lot of my family members had been affected physically, financially and emotionally. My dad was a soldier in the Army, so he was working at a base about an hour away from Panama City; that Christmas season we didn’t see him that often.

While my dad was at work and waited for a house on base— Oscar, Carmen, Mom and I lived with my aunt and her two girls in Panama City. One of my cousins, let’s call her «Lee», was 6 and the other, «Dee», was about 2.  Oscar y Carmen eran mis hermanitos, ya los entendia…pero mis primas…¡Dios mío! Actually, Dee wasn’t that bad; she talked a lot for a two-year-old and was very possessive of her things, but Dee wasn’t rude or stuck-up. Now Lee, it was amazing how annoying Lee could be. Tan chiquita y tan odiosa…Lee was a pain in the butt! 

«Yo voy a una escuela privada, y por eso yo uso uniforme. Tú no vas a escuela privada…tú escuela no es católica…mi escuela es mejor…»

I had to put-up with Lee’s stupid little comments every day.  “My school is private…rich kids go to my school…my school is more important than yours…” It was like standing on an ant hill and not being able to move; and then, the worse news I could have received. My dad had gotten a house on base, in Colon, and my mom, Oscar and Carmen were leaving. [So now pretend you are hearing scary music] I had to stay in the city to finish school – I had to stay with my Aunt Bee and her daughters: Dee (not so bad) and Lee (AHHHH!)

I continued 3rd grade at Balboa Elementary School, on an Army base in Panama City. My mom found a guy who drove this little yellow van to the schools on base; he had about 10 passengers. The van was a pale yellow color, with a rickety sliding door and two rows of seats behind the driver. I remember the kid who always rode in the front was Indian —as in from India not indigenous— and in high-school and lived in a really big light-blue colored house that was surrounded by thick concrete; everyone else scooched in the back. I wasn’t too happy with my new school.

Problema #1:   There were bullies at Balboa Elementary; specifically, two kids who made fun of me for no particular reason. The girl, Ana, always pushed me around when our teacher wasn’t looking and threatened to hit me if I said anything. El muchacho, mi tocayo, solo asustaba por su tamaño: he was a big kid for a third grader! The two of them—Ana & tocayo— would sneak into the lunch boxes during recess and steal food or lunch money; many times, I was left without lunch and couldn’t say anything about it. Our teacher, Mrs. Thompson - was pregnant and soon to give birth – and oblivious to the fact that she had two little thieves/bullies in her classroom.  

Problema #2:   Mrs. Thompson knew I had arrived in the middle of the school-year and gave me different assignments from the rest of the class. Seems like we were ahead in Kentucky and I had already covered some of the material being taught. Mrs. Thompson era bien linda. She had wavy brown hair, fair skin and a very friendly demeanor; I liked her. But like I said, she was soon to give birth, and a new teacher came in.

¡No’hombre – la maestra que llegó en su lugar era una pesadilla! 

The teacher that came in Mrs. Thompson’s place was a genuine nightmare! Her name has left my mind; but her features are still etched in the back of my brain. So let’s name her: Sra. Rana.

Sra. Rana had these huge, bulging green eyes that seemed to follow you around the classroom- like a chameleon. She was tall, and thin – a bit hunched over, with dirty, blond hair and wrinkly skin. In front of Mrs. Thompson, Sra. Rana appeared sweet, but once Mrs. Thompson left, Sra. Rana dropped the façade. 

“I finished,” I said as I placed my worksheet on Sra. Rana’s desk. “What do I do now?”

“What do you mean, you finished?” Sra. Rana asked me in a sarcastic tone. “No one else has finished…who did you copy off of?”

I was a bit sarcastic myself. I widened my eyes as to imitate Sra. Rana’s round peepers, lowered the pitch of my voice, tilted my head, “Uh… everyone else is working—so I didn’t copy off of anyone. I am finished.”

Still, Sra. Rana looked at me like I was fibbing and then looked around the classroom, “Did you check your work?”

“There’s nothing to check; I’m done.” I reiterated.

She rolled hear eyes at me, as if questioning the validity of my words.

“Okay, so if everyone is still working,” I said very slowly and matter-of-factly, “who did I copy off of?” short pause, “You?”

Yeah, conversations similar to this one happened a couple of times and got me sent to the office/counselor the same number of times. But finally, light at the end of the tunnel: third grade was over and it was time to move to Colon.

Adios, Tía Bee; hasta luego Dee y ojala no te vea tan pronto Lee. Good riddance school bullies, Sra. Rana, Tía Bee and Lee; I was going home.