Tag Archives: Ana-Sanchez

Spanish Speaking and Ready

I was more Spanish than the other Spanish kids.
That’s me on the left.

I had been keenly conscious that I needed to be Spanish speaking since I was four years of age and as such I endeavored to become more Panamanian in that sense than my aunts and uncles of both coasts of the Republic. Continue reading

Examining the Scars

The reality of the night before, of dancing all night and of having had the best time of my life, had vanished with the quiet of a Saturday morning that took its effect on a budding fourteen year old boy. I awoke to find that self that I, again, had to deal with- the Westindian man child, an individual of the Negro race whose peers in the barrios would still have problems dealing with. Continue reading

The Coming of Age of a Westindian Prince


It wasn’t until the friendliness of the darkened courtyard greeted me that I would fully realize that I had had a major role in the successful event that was taking shape that evening. Sitting at last, I felt pleased as I stepped up to one of the small stalls in the fair that was being manned by some of the teachers I knew. I then recognized some of the donated items that Teacher Ana and I had carted back to the school day after day. Too tired now to care for the happy partying that was going on I sat back in the darkened outdoors and closed my eyes, trying to gain some rest. Continue reading

My Cinderella

Princess Angela Brown

Speaking of royalty, HSH Angela Brown, the only reigning Black Princess in Europe
was born of Westindian parents in Bocas del Toro, Panama. She was married to
Prince Maximilian Nikolaus Maria of Lichtenstein in 2000.

For the first time in my life at school I was feeling recognized, honored in fact, feeling that I was more than just another Spanish kid. Still, my tired body demanded rest more than anything else at those early hours of the night. Jose Manuel had remained at my side trying to cheer me up, sort of getting me in the mood for the big night. Continue reading

Reflections in a School Yard

A School yard in Panama.

Growing up depressed most of the time, it had always been rough for me to find moments to reflect on my own feelings, especially feelings of joy and anticipation of an evening that promised to hold pleasant surprises. Tiredness had made me slow down as if I had been walking on a hot sandy desert without having taken a sip of water. My thoughts then turned to the opportunities I had been made privy to. Continue reading

I Will Answer for You

A scene from, La Casa de Bernarda Alba,
a drama by Federico Garcia Lorca that
will forever remind me of Doña Francisca,
my sixth grade teacher. Image

I finally made it back to the spot where my own teacher was waiting me. For the first time during that whole year our eyes met and she seemed to be in a happy mood. This was my sixth grade teacher,
Doña Francisca de Moreno, eternally dressed in her widow’s weeds. I don’t think I ever saw her dressed in anything but her mourning uniform of either a black dress or a black skirt and blouse, black shoes, etc. Continue reading