Despite my occasional reprieves from the everyday worries of being a young adult, my emotional state during this time was in continual flux over how Pug and I had fallen out of love. We were in a real period of splitting up. But I didn’t want to duplicate this scenario with Barbara. I’d come to the conclusion that I could not have a real love affair again after my failure with Pug. Continue reading
Exiled Argentinian President, Juan Domingo Perón in the center, flanked by José Dominador Bazán (bow tie), Governor of Colón at the time.
Our arrival back in Colon not only marked the end of our love story- Pug’s and mine- but it was an important reintroduction to the people whom I hadn’t had contact with for almost two years. Back in this Silver City called the City of Colon I would be picking up where I had left off when I was sleeping at that single room that was never crowded. Continue reading
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