The ‘Guana Dinner

Achiote is prepared by placing the small red seeds
in hot oil and then using the red, flavorful
oil in your meat or vegetable stews. 

For a second generation Westindian child growing up in Panama I had been, up until my early adolescence, somewhat insulated from what I thought were the biting prejudices suffered on the Black Canal Zone. The ideas and ideals of my first generation parents, aunts and uncles were nevertheless still mired in survival. In those days the skills related to the Silver Roll Canal Zone were thought to be adequate even for the generation approaching the fiftieth year anniversary of the Silver People of Panama.

I was not, however, aware of the extent of the racial prejudice in the Republic of Panama up until then. For these, my adolescent years, many events would make me more aware of this phenomenon and I would witness seeing how my Westindian counterparts from the Black Canal Zone would join me in school in Panama as a result of many detrimental policies being made by Canal Zone Administration.

By this time I had also witnessed Panamanian style political rallies and electioneering right from my perch on the balcony in the San Miguel barrio and other events that would eventually spell trouble for my generation as they had done for my parents and grandparents.

In looking for some sense of relief to my mental state I consciously sought to find a sense of belonging since I myself seemed to have been transformed at home. Remember I had come to really be submerged in Westindian culture and language when I came to live with my grandmother. Before then I had pretty much been growing up Spanish and quite a part of “my” Panamanian society.

One day one of our dear neighbor ladies invited me to eat dinner with her daughter who happened to be my playmate. Her apartment was right next door to our apartment in Magnolia Building. I did not ask any questions at first when I sat down to the most delicious looking, aromatic platter of stewed meat and rice and beans that I had ever seen.

I simply dug in as any healthy, perpetually hungry, young adolescent would do. When the smiling motherly figure told me it was Iguana I didn’t think much of it. She had served me Iguana prepared with a tasty achiote sauce, as she described it. In fact the “Guana” dinner made me feel that I had finally arrived- I was now a real Panamanian and that by some magical powers in the flesh of the Iguana I would exude that essence of being a real Panamanian.

Since I was home alone during the day most of the time and then with my grandmother when she was home from work I lived in the Westindian world she linked me to. Mamí was the only one willing to answer my questions about the years gone by on the Canal Zone becoming my valuable source of information on the family I had inherited. I suppose I saw in her a valuable resource about our Panamanian family’s unique past history. It was an oral history told only to me which she related over and over until I could, myself, tell the story only through her experiences. For me, in fact, it was better than not getting any information at all.

As I’ve related, the other working members of the family were visible only occasionally and I had been trying to get closer to my grandmother sort of for protection. I hoped and fantasized, in fact, with being the replacement of her beloved deceased son, Eric, that she so grieved about constantly.

I was continually trying to evade confrontations with my domineering younger aunt, Gwendolyn, who was by now employed as a telephone operator in Fuerza y Luz, an American company based in Panama that ran the electric energy and telephone service. She had managed to get this job since she had left secondary school without graduating. I would always feel trapped and uneasy around my youngest aunt when she would finally come home for the few days off they permitted her at work.

My young aunt was my constant preoccupation as I foresaw that there would be nothing positive I could do to evade the ever petty demands of this girl. I tried retreating into myself when she was home and I always remembered her for being cruel, unmerciful, and ungrateful, not remembering that it had been me who had assisted her in her studies to land the job as telephone operator which she finally got to so proudly flaunt in the neighborhood.

Since the company required that their applicants take an aptitude test, I was keenly aware that I had made it easier for her to pass the final exam, since I was the only one she could turn to all day for me to quiz her for her test. In the meantime, I received no sign of appreciation from my aunt or even a reprieve from her constant harassment whenever she was home.

Although she had taken the place of my parents throughout my primary school years, the thought of her being involved with my secondary education completely disgusted me.

This story continues.