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The yellow forsythia shoots are at their peak and the star magnolia trees are just beginning to bloom pink.
The strong fiber of this nation is coming through. There are smart people who care deeply and are working for all of us. I can do that too, in whatever way I can.
Read moreWe didn’t know then that these were times in our lives when we were fully alive.
Panama’s birthday yesterday had me thinking of the birthday parties of my childhood in Panama when primas, primos, tías, and tíos were the cast of characters in my life. So I spent the afternoon searching for that one gorgeous photo of my little brother’s birthday party in the carport of tía Connie’s house. Here it is! Come play with me.
Read moreWhen I return to my childhood home—Panama—things POP in a new way. Back in New York: Husband, wife, and cat.
Panamanian pollera and montuno in Casco Antiguo, the old city
PANAMA DIARY
Day 1: fruit have seeds
I bite into a small red grape. No surprise when I cut a small papaya.
Day 2: ice water
Even before coffee, I pour cooled water from a jar in the refrigerator. Though I top my glass with ice, the ice melts in minutes.
Day 3: phone calls
Calls to loving family. This begins on Day 1 and continues until we leave. First, las tres tías, matriarchs who together add up to almost-300 years of living. Call brothers. Sister. Cousins. Nieces, husbands.
Day 4: thanksgiving
No absence of turkeys in a foreign city. My brother hosts a mini Thanksgiving for my children and their children who've traveled to Panama for my niece's wedding. Pool party. Slices of blue sky between buildings. Splashing kids. Fish ceviche. Turkey and stuffing. Waldorf Salad.
Day 5: broken sidewalks
Progress and chaos. Construction of new buildings in the capital city happen with no respect for regulations. Between two-story houses and new, very tall towers the sidewalks twist and pop. Careful!
Day 6: tranque
Traffic paralysis at rush hour--horas pico. We travel in small taxis from one neighborhood to another visiting family. Every street has been designated una via. You drive A to C to B to get from A to B.
Day 7: on foot
At the old colonial city, cars thread in and out of narrow streets. Shutters, moldings, interior patios, balconies. Shaved ice cones topped with maracuyá syrup and leche condensada. A welcome relief to the modern canyons in the new city. We travel on foot.
Day 8: la murga
The children practice their steps for the wedding event. The boys lead the procession into the sanctuary in tiny tuxedos and black-and-white Converse sneakers. The little girls in pink cast rose petals and the bride arrives. A sheer white mantilla trails behind, tiny pearls sewn into the lace. Tallit over the couple's heads. The violin sings. There will be a DJ. People will dance. The children will leave at midnight before la murga arrives with a Bombo--an enormous drum--one trombone, a trumpet, and two saxes. Guests will dance to the pounding rhythm of Carnaval.
NEW YORK DIARY
Day 1: big
The Newark Airport is big compared to Tocumen in Panama City. View from the car is deep and wide. Distant buildings, highways leading to highways. Meaningless space. I like it.
Day 2: comfort
Home to my single-shot coffee machine. Re-heating tea at the microwave. At the market I load up on raspberries, blueberries, heirloom tomatoes, any olive oil you can imagine.
Day 3: hooked on FB
I cannot escape my I-Phone. My computer. Life settles in. Work. Husband, wife, and cat.