This is a rather tourist like shot of
Bocas del Toro. Image.
It was the year 1950 and the seemingly endless year of 1949 had passed with many political happenings that I would remember all my life. I would usually end my days at the dental clinic where I had been drawn to in order to stay off the streets. It might have been the place that I would end up spending my summer as that year closed on my adolescent activities. Continue reading
One of my old Balboa Notebooks
Back in my sixth grade classroom, after having helped out with the big Friday night dance, it was indeed a place in which I now commanded some passive attention from my classmates. As usual I still held on to my guarded, isolated status as I reached for the trusted Spanish novela I had been reading since the beginning of class that year. Feigning to be more interested in reading than in Albina Romero, the girl at the back of the classroom who I had danced all night with, I ignored most all of my classmates. Continue reading