The item at the top which looks like a rustic wooden gun is the kind of Zip gun the boys shot at me with. Image thanks to etsy.com.
I finally recognized that nervous boy as one of the lads who had teamed up with other Westindian boys to make my life miserable often threatening me near San Miguel Hill. This morning, following the first day’s assembly, however, we were given the orders to go to class. In several lines, groups of students marched soberly to their designated classrooms. While I thought quickly of how to hold this little delinquent who was obviously far from his hunting companions, I said to myself, “You little piece of shit! I’ve got you now!” Continue reading
“Third year, B class,” I thought, overjoyed. I was now an “Abel Bravo man.” I remembered distinctly what my stepfather had told me and how he had expressed genuine interest in my well being giving words of support. At the time, any words of support was all I needed to continue. More than money or any school supplies, his words reached my very soul when I most needed the lift. Continue reading
Black Christ of Portobelo in full regalia. Image share thanks to Thyngum at flickr.
The City of Colon today is in the midst of mourning for the violent repression of its people who are in opposition to the sale of the Colon Free Zone lands. Their’s is a claim to patrimony, but despite the general dificulties that the controversy has imposed on the residents of Colon, the thousands of Black Christ of Portobelo followers have somehow managed to converge on the Atlantic city of Portobelo. Continue reading
The last mental note of treachery was just one more to be added to the string of misery and of things happening to me in those days. But, I still maintained the hope that my mother wound let me stay a couple of days with her to make up for her abandoning me. By then I was also considering the last times I’d visited Colon which was my visit on Fifth of November the year before. Continue reading
The City of Colon meant a fresh start for me and the chance to experience new adventures. The long walk in the cool night air had lifted my spirits and elevated me into more positive thoughts. For me, a young black man finding himself during the witch’s hours with the starry sky and a deserted city street for a backdrop, it also meant that I could sort through better my feelings of loneliness. Continue reading
A Diablo Rojo going to take many pilgrims to Portobelo. Image
As we approach the grand celebration of the Black Christ this Friday, October 21, I never fail to recall the words of my beloved grandmother who, as I’ve noted countless times, was the key person in my life to introduce me to the Black Christ of Portobelo in the Province of Colon. Continue reading