Twelve years old (how did that happen?)

My older daughter turned twelve yesterday. It was a good day.  I made many vanilla cupcakes to take to school. The tradition at our school is for the parents to dash in with a cake at lunch recess (it's only twenty minutes) and sing happy birthday with the kid's class. It's a nice tradition for middle of the week birthdays. After school she had quite a bit of homework, but she did it without complaining (I cannot say the same for her sister who complained quite a lot about her own homework). Then we went out for sushi. Even though it seemed kind of uneventful, she said it was her best birthday yet. I adore that child.

The books and stuff I ordered for her just arrived today.  So when she gets home I get to give her Jacob Have I Loved, which was my favourite book as a girl, and season 1 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  I'm not sure who will be more pleased (it might well be her silly mother).

sleepover

When my daughter decided (months ago) that she wanted a sleepover for her eighth birthday I tried to sway her.  Bowling is always fun, or we could go to the movies.  No, all she wanted was a sleepover, with make-up, and nail polish, and the TV moved into her room.  How could I deprive her of a pleasure I enjoyed so much myself as a child?  I swallowed my apprehensions, which mostly had to with mess and dealing with other people's children in Spanish, and moved the TV.

The girls arrived after school on Friday.  My daughter had requested burgers and waffle fries, so that's what I made.  Everything seemed to be going well until I heard (in a stage whisper--in Spanish) I have some bad news, I don't like hamburgers.  I would say that this pretty much sums up my interactions with this particular child for the rest of the party--equal parts hilarious and annoying.  (Although, it was probably more annoying than hilarious when I woke Saturday, to her telling me there was no toilet paper in the bathroom.)  After eating, they played and giggled and ran up and down the stairs.  I was grateful when they were finally all in pajamas and watching a movie.

They went to sleep late and no one was up in the middle of the night crying to go home (have you ever had this happen?  it's the worst!).  They were up a little earlier than I would have liked on Saturday morning.  (They needed a round of Nutella on toast before I had the pancakes made.)  They had a great time and there were no fights, and no one wanted to leave (a sure sign of a successful party).  The mess wasn't too bad, except the  floor in my daughter's room was disgusting--popcorn, Monopoly, pretzels, make-up, and rabbit poop will do that.  I survived, and even mostly spoke in Spanish.

I speak to my girls in English, so I always feel a little unnatural talking to their friends in Spanish.  They know me as foreign, and accented and that doesn't feel like me.  Dealing with people in your second language (if you are like me, and are more proficient than fluent) is like having an awkward costume on, the people you're talking to never get the real you.  A puzzled look from my kids' friends always makes me painfully aware of my deficiencies in Spanish.  But really, they mostly understand me, and my own kids are so good-natured about correcting, or explaining what I am trying to say, that it's really no big deal.  Ultimately, my Spanish has very little to do with the success of a slumber party.

So, it was all good, and I'm sure we'll be doing it again soon enough.  A little mess and being the weird, accented, foreign mom is a small price to pay for my kids' happiness.  I am grateful that my daughters have developed close friendships here.  Rabbit poop under the bed, and blue nail polish on the night stand--I wouldn't have it any other way.

Even the bunnies survived six squealing girls

Pretty Pedasí

We spent the weekend in Pedasí.  There are many beautiful places in Panama, but this would definitely be in my top three. along with Bocas and Islas Perlas.

My internet research said that it was a four hour drive from Panama city, but that's pretty optimistic.  There's a lot of road construction between Divisa and Las Tablas and with a snack and stretch stop, it was more like five hours.  When the new divided highway is finished it will be four hours, but it's not right now.  The drive back was more like six hours, stopping for lunch and with horrible, heavy, Sunday afternoon, traffic between Coronado and the city.

Apart from the longish drive, (really not so long, but longer than we expected) we had an amazing time.  The town of Pedasí is really cute and the people are friendly.  There's a nice bakery and plenty of little restaurants.  Friday night, the central plaza was full of kids of all ages playing what looked to be prisoner's base.  We found the town to be very pleasant.  We didn't stay in town although there are a lot of little hotels that looked nice.  We stayed just out of town, closer to the beach.

Our bed and breakfast was sweet, clean and comfortable and not (for a change) overpriced.  The owner was nice and helpful (he brought us a bodum of coffee to have on the back porch while we waited for the girls to wake up).  We walked down to Playa del Toro when we first arrived.

We were on a rocky stretch of the beach, but we could see that it was sandier in the other direction.  There were sand dunes that we raced and slid down.

It wasn't the best spot for swimming, but pretty and fun in other ways (and I'm sure it was sandier further down).  One little girl I know did not want to go back to the hotel even though it was getting dark and buggy.

On Saturday we went to Isla Iguana.  Isla Iguana is a short boat ride from Pedasí.  The island has a pretty beach and some great snorkeling.  It's nice for kids because you don't need to snorkel from a boat, the reef is just right there.  The water is clear and as calm as a swimming pool.  We saw lots of fish and coral.  We walked across the island to another small beach.  From this little beach we walked along the rocky coast back to the main beach.  Along the way, we poked around in some tidal pools and found a big trilobite and a spotted sea snake.  We also saw the Frigate bird colony, which no photo could possibly do justice (everywhere you look there are birds in the air and in the trees).  There are incredible volcanic rock formations and coral beaches.

On our last morning we took a boat out to see if we could see some whales.  We did  see a pair of hump backs and couple of young whales.  We didn't get close enough for great photos, but getting to see them at all was thrilling.  We also got to see some sharks and a sail fish.  We stopped back at Isla Iguana to avoid the rain.  The girls got back in the water and some local fisherman shared some fresh caught fish with us.

The trip was a big success.  We didn't have time to go to nearby Playa Venao or Isla Caña.  A return trip is already in the works!

Punta Culebra

I had a great Sunday that started with Dim Sum and ended with a 15k run in Clayton.  In between we went to the Smithsonian's marine exhibit at Punta Culebra.  We hadn't been in a while and I was happy to see that they've made some improvements.  It's looking really good.  The exhibit is small and ideal for little kids.  There is a tank with sea turtles and nurse sharks, there are a couple of touch pools with star fish and sea cucumbers which are always fun and there is an indoor aquarium exhibit.  The kids' term break is next week and we are planning to do some snorkeling.  This was a good way to get them primed.

Panama Viejo

Four-hundred and ninety-two years ago today, Panama was founded by Pedro Arias Dávila.  I know this well because I helped my second grader prepare a little speech on the subject last week.  He was known as Pedrarias the Cruel; he had Balboa charged with treason and executed.  It seems like he was a pretty ruthless and jealous guy responsible for all kinds of brutality and slavery, but he will be remembered forever for founding Panama City.

Of course in 1671 Henry Morgan sacked the city of Panama and after that the Spanish relocated it to what is now Casco Viejo.  The ruins of the old city are a tourist attraction.  No one can resist a good pirate story.  Pedro Arias founded it, but Henry Morgan is the name every tourist associates with the place.

I am fascinated by the history of this country.  I love that the stories of conquistadors and pirates are just a few blocks away.  I have been inspired into all kinds reading about the Spanish colonization of Latin America.  That is not to say I have romantic notions about the colonial period; the Spanish conquistadors were gold-crazy slavers who committed some  unbelievable atrocities in the name crown and church.  And I think it's important that we contemplate that, and that our kids contemplate that.  As much as I hated studying history as a kid, I encourage my kids to study and think about it.  It's an important part of understanding the world we live in; it's context.

So the kids are off school today in honour of the date.  We talked about Pedro Arias quite a bit this weekend. My children's favourite detail was Balboa's execution (or poor Vasco, as my daughter calls him)  and how Pedro Arias had Balboa's head displayed on a spike.  It is the kind of gruesome detail that kids love but it's also an important reminder of how brutal the colonial period was.

bunnies!

Against my better judgement, we got the girls a couple of baby bunnies.  My younger daughter has been asking for a rabbit every day for more than a year.  I have given her every argument: we have cats, bunnies scratch and dig, and the smell...  I have been saying no, and explaining why, for more than a year (every day).  It's not so much that she wore me down (although there certainly was some of that) it's more that it just started to seem mean to not get her a bunny.  She drew bunnies, talked about them and imagined them.  On long car trips we had to prohibit the topic of rabbits or she would drive us crazy.  She has been unrelenting and somehow it didn't seem fair to keep holding out.  And lately, holding out seems like something I do a lot.

My older daughter is the only girl in sixth grade without a blackberry, and her dearest wish is for a fancy phone.  She mentions it often but not incessantly; she was more insistant last year--I think we wore her down.  It pains me because I know she suffers.  But the phone is more complicated than the bunny.  I have ideas about materialism and overly technological childhoods; I was mostly just trying to avoid a nuisance by refusing the rabbit.  We tell her to wear her difference like a badge, "don't get sucked into all that materialistic crap."  But you know, easy for us to say, we aren't in the sixth grade.  I'm not entirely sure what to do about the phone.  I am getting my first fancy phone in the next week or two and I'm planning to share it with her.  It doesn't sit entirely comfortably with me (am I giving in?).

Funny thing about the bunnies, when we gave them to the girls my little one was strangely silent.  Later she asked me if people who get what they want are greedy.  She said she felt a little bit bad about getting the bunny; guilty.  I'm still not entirely sure what to make of this.  I told her that she shouldn't feel bad and that she should just enjoy her bunny; that we gave it with a lot of love.  She seems to be over her guilt now and is genuinely thrilled.  I'm waiting to see what her next obsession will be.  I hope it isn't a fancy phone.

likes to draw

I had a meeting with my daughter's teacher yesterday.  She's had some low grades (not kinda low, failing low) and I wasn't sure if she was still missing some work from when she was sick.  Her teacher, who is very sweet and well-loved by her second grade charges, told me my daughter is doing fine, but there is one problem:  she is constantly drawing during class.  Not in the open, on top of her desk, but sneakily in a notebook hidden on her lap.  This was not surprising, she loves to draw.

I do not want to discourage her love of drawing but I would like her to pay more attention in class.  My plan is to focus on her school work a little more than I have been; pay more attention to her homework.  I'm hoping that with a little focused energy on my part, I can get her a little more engaged.  It's not that I think grades are terribly important, but she really is so capable and it comes easy when she tries and pays attention.  We will see what happens.

tall

My youngest is tall for her age.  Not just a little tall, but very tall.  People make comments about it all the time.  She hates it of course.  Once she asked me if her dad and I hadn't made a mistake (we are awfully absent-minded sometimes) and lost a year; maybe she was a whole year older than we thought...  No, there has been no mistake; she will always be standing out in the crowd (especially here in Central America).  People will continue to exclaim (often  rather rudely) about her height.

She was at a classmate's birthday party last week.  She is a full head taller than most of the girls and two heads taller than many of the boys.  The birthday boy's grandmother declared that "that girl could not possibly be in Manuelito's class!"  Why yes señora she is (and no, she did not fail a year).  I pointed out to my daughter that "that lady was quite rude."  I think it's important that she understands that.  Commenting on other people's bodies is rarely kind, or necessary.  I remember being a child and thinking that everything adults said was true or right.  The fact is, adults say plenty of thoughtless things that kids don't need to take to heart.

Sometimes when my daughter is playing somewhere with other children, an adult will come along and asks her how old she is, and then exclaim at her height or her bigness.  The way she moves instantly changes.  She becomes self-conscious and too aware of her long legs.  The level of fun clearly goes down a notch.  I hate that.

They took a group picture at the birthday party she was at last week.  She brought the photo home from school the other day.

"Where are you?"  I asked, puzzled.

"Well, you see that pink dot?  That's my hair ribbon.  I hid because everyone was saying I was too tall and had to move.  I didn't feel like being in the picture."

 She is my beautiful baby and I wish she could go through life without ever having her feelings hurt.  There are afflictions much worse than being "too tall" and I am very grateful for her health and vigor.  I do wish people would shut up about it though, and just let her be seven and tall.

Sunday in Casco Viejo

We had a great afternoon in Casco Viejo on Sunday.  We started with pizza at Caffe Per Due, a cute little, place with good pizza.

We wandered over to to Granclement for some ice cream.

and then we made our way over to plaza de la catedral, for the flea market.

We walked through the stalls and were delighted by a teenage folklore group doing some dancing in the middle of the plaza.  They really looked like they were having a good time, and the foreign tourists around us were totally blown away by them.  The girls were beautiful and the boys sang and yelled and waved their hats with joy and without irony or self-consciousness.  The folk dancing from the interior of Panama is full of good humor about hard work and country life (in one dance, the boys fan their hats just behind the girls because they are just too hot to handle and in another they wave their machetes as if they are going to cut the back of the girls skirt off)).  It was fun and totally unexpected.

There was also a group of kids from Colon doing the folk dancing from that province.  This particular folklore tradition is fascinating because it is a wild mix of Catholic and African that goes back to the Spanish Colonial period, and the communities of escaped slaves on the Atlantic coast of Panama.  The music is all drums and singing.  The songs are laments, it struck me yesterday how sad the words to the songs are.  The dances are very theatrical with a narrative about the devil trying to steal one of the children.  We went to the Festival of Diablos and Congos in Portobelo a couple of years ago and I can't recommend it enough.  The festival is a little rough around the edges, but the singing will give you goosebumps, and the devil masks are spectacular.  The kids yesterday did a nice job, and even got some the crowd in dancing with them.

My kids are convinced that the raspados in Casco Viejo are bigger and better than the ones we can get in our neighbourhood, and no visit to Casco is complete without one.

the cats that live at my house

About a year ago I was on my way to the park when I heard the cries of a young kitten; insistant and constant.  I looked and found her in the garbage.  There are quite a few street cats on my street and I assumed she had just gotten separated from her mother.   When I was heading back it was starting to rain, and she was still there crying pitifully.  I tried to grab her but she ran off.  The next day, on the way to the park with my girls, the kitten was still there and crying loud, constant meows, I don't now how the neighbours could stand it.  I told the girls if she was still their on the way home, we would take her.  This of course was easier said than done.  Even though she was tiny and half starved, it took three adults and three kids to catch her (she bit one guy trying to help us).

Hungry, dirty, and full of fleas Cookie came into our lives.  She was too small for solid food when we first brought her home.

But within a couple of weeks she was eating kibble.  As a little kitten, she spent a lot of time with the kids, I would often find her sleeping in the doll house while the girls played beside.  She has grown into a lovely cat and we all adore her, even my, not very pet enthusiastic, husband.

A few months after we found Cookie, as I was getting up to start lunches and breakfast, I coud hear a kitten crying.  I opened the front door just in time to see a tabby kitten running away.  On our way home from school I told the girls to keep an eye out for him.  We saw no sign of him until we got to our house and there he was meowing under the hedge.  This is how Mowgli came to live with us.

Mowgli was very wild.  Already able to eat solid food, he was not that hungry and the flea bath traumatized him.  He spent the first week under the cupboards.  I told the girls we'd take him to get fixed and release him back to the street; he seemed so miserable and scared.  But somehow he came around.  He doesn't like the kids as much as Cookie does but he's very affectionate.

Cats are really not ideal pets in the tropics because they kill stuff, and there are so many little creatures for them to hunt here.  Every lizard and bird that they kill is a tragedy and I really wish they didn't.  But Mowgli killed a rat that ran into the house the other night (that was me shrieking, up on the kitchen counter) and that seemed much more felicitous than tragic to me.  There are rats here and when the rain starts they try to move in where it's dry.  So I forgive dear Cookie and Mowgli their bloodthirsty ways.

Occasionally since I've been here in Latin America, I've encountered some pretty incredible superstition about cats.  I remember in Costa Rica, this one woman telling me how cats can steal your soul when you sleep and she was not joking.  She seemed to attribute all crib death to cats.  A lot of people in the countryside seemed to think cats were evil, dangerous and dirty.  You really only saw cats as pets in foreigners' houses.  The city is different, and here in Panama I've met quite a few people with pet cats.  So I was a little surprised when my daughter encountered the whole evil cat thing in the playground.

There's this girl we sometimes see at the playground, who verges on bully.  She's more feared than liked and honestly seems really unhappy.  I keep a close watch when my kids are playing with her, but kids know, there is always wariness when she approaches the group.  The other day she told my daughter in hushed, scandalized tones that "cats are the only animal that isn't in the bible."  This information was supposed to make my daughter feel bad or deviant for having pet cats.  The stupidity of it just kind of baffled her.  'What is that supposed to mean?"  We laughed all the way home to our devil cats.