September 27, 2011
Snippets of Life:
The blow-by-blow accounts are just going to bore everyone, myself
included. So instead, here’s a couple of short stories about life in
the past few months. The biggest event was my family’s visit in July.
My mom and dad wrote an excellent letter about it, which I will link
to this at a later (but not much later!) date. They do a wonderful
and thorough job, so I won’t repeat it, except to say we had a
wonderful time and it was really nice for me to have my two worlds
meet. I also had an excellent visit from Kim, a dear friend from
college, and she was a great sport and hung out with me in candelilla
for a few weeks, bird watching, helping with the biodigestor, and
playing the guitar.
“English Event”/Saga of the bunny-Fairies: This “english event” took
place in the Santa Fe gymnasium, with area schools participating. The
first several acts, staged on a bedazzled high school musical
recreation backdrop, were absurdly inappropriate dances performed by
gangs of scantily-clad middle school girls executing dance moves that
I definitely didn’t know about in 7th grade. You could barely hear the
music over the riotous cheering of the proud parents in the stands.
Despite the late hour, a niggling feeling in the back of our minds
told us we should stay long enough to watch the adorable 3rd graders
who were dressed as blue and pink bunny-fairies. There were three
little boys dressed in black cloaks and masks (magicians?) and maybe
about 8 bunny fairies. As the music started a magician grabbed one
bunny fairy by the hair and dragged her into the middle of the floor.
He yelled at her, and made her cry. At this point I said, “oh my
god, he’s making the bunny fairy cry!” Little did I know her tragic
Next he started pretending to savagely beat the bunny fairy as she
late prostrate on the ground. At the point I said, “oh my god, he’s
beating up the bunny fairy!” and I composed A haiku. Which I forgot
in the tumult of what followed: the magician grabbed the bunny fairy
off the floor, pulled her head up by her hair, produced a fake
machete, and slit her throat. She crumpled to the ground in a heap of
pink glittery wings, disheveled bunny ears, and fake tears. Then the
three magicians proceeded to take each bunny fairy, one by one, from
their cowering corner and methodically beat them, slit their throats,
and leave them in a heap. When they got down to the last bunny fairy,
SHE pulled out a fake machete too, and did battle with the evil
magicians. But the magicians slit her throat anyway. Then, as all
the bunny fairies lay in their mass grave, a bunny-fairy-angel
arrived. She ALSO had a fake machete, which she used to raise the
bunny fairies from the dead. Then she battled the magicians. After
a dramatic sparring and chase scene she stabbed them, slit their
throats, and gave their crumpled bodies a final vindictive kick as she
flounced away with her posse of zombie bunny fairies.
The crowd erupted. I was in hysterics. We had to rush out before I
peed on the bleachers (though I’m sure it wouldn’t be the first time
those bleachers got peed on, judging from the smell). I have never
seen anything so simultaneously hilarious and disturbing in my life.
The only unifying theme among the various acts (and the only
indication besides the high School Musical set that the event was
English-related) was that all the songs were in English. We were
supposed to be judges for this, but thankfully we got out of that one
and it was judged by an assortment of friendly neighborhood
Frontier-Patrol Police Officers.
I try to Buy New Glasses:
I was recently thwarted in an attempt to purchase new glasses. The
incredulous doctors and salesgirls at Optica Lopez, no doubt trying to
rescue me from social suicide, staunchly refused to sell my chosen
frames. They insisted that the glasses would touch my face, thereby
giving me an allergic reaction. They finely, begrudgingly, agreed to
sell me just the frames, but insisted on issuing a receipt that
states, “SHE WANTS TO BUY JUST THE FRAMES, EVEN THOUGH WE ADVISED HER
THAT THEY DO NOT SUIT HER WELL, UNDER HER OWN RESPONSIBILITY.” Emma’s
response: “you’re so fashionable that even fashion won’t take your
money.” So I bought the frames, and took them next door to the other
optometrist, who happily agreed to fill the frames with my
prescription without imparting fashion advice of any sort. And now I
am the proud owner of slightly-funky, unpanamanian glasses.
I just got back from a trip to a folkmusic Festival in Guararé in the
Azuero peninsula. There were lots of traditional music and dance and
fancy outfits. My favorite dance was a bunch of colorful dwarf dolls
who had fits on stage. We stayed on the beach and had a fun time
playing bananagrams and inventing. There was a frog named Don Baño
and a crab named Derecho (because he always scuttled to the right)
living in the bathroom. There was a big parade with intricate floats,
and lots of people dancing and singing in the street including a bunch
who had dolls heads hung all over their elaborate raggedy costumes.
There was an accordian competition, some great panamanian style
fiddle, and my favorite, a toothless old man who rocked the harmonica
hardcore. It was a lot of fun to go to such a cultural event, since
people in the Darien don’t really do the traditional festivals.
So those are some highlights of my recent life. And now I have to
finish up glusing the sequins on Hannah’s new Security Warden Hat.