Yesterday all the styrofoam martians, candy canes, mermaids, and large squirrels were removed from the Cinta Costera, marking the end of this year's Christmas season.
At first, the martians and scantily dressed mermaids, seemed really unbelievable. Trust me it provided great material for cinta costera stories. The stories even seemed better when muffled by the Christmas carols in Spanish blaring from makeshift speakers. Our husbands were grateful for the reprieve from being the blame of our battered souls.
But after a while, the hidden beauty of the $50,000 styrofoam wonder world, financed by our brave warrior, Bosco Vallarino, emerged. And really it became, the 'time for the people'. Added to the BBQ stands selling chorizo, yuca and 'agua fria' were flowing trays of candy apples and our all time favorite, the portable 'Panafoto'. Nope, can't sell water but TV's, oh yeah...
But let not the point be lost...the people for whom it was created had the time of their lives, dancing, singing, kissing their honeys and walking their babies proudly for all to see. For the people, the beauty of the celebration did not fall on blind eyes. It was a happy place, day in, day out....something to look forward to, wow, do we all need that.
The lesson learned from this CCS? When we judge, we fail to see the beauty that exists in so many things. Shouldn't it make us feel better to see beauty and instead of fault? My husband has always told me that he is amazed how I think everyone is beautiful. They are, in each of the crazy little features and ways....
I am proud to admit that I will miss the 'plopplops' and the gingerman with a severed and then reattached head, that brought smiles and giggles and laughter for Christine and me. For Christine, this Christmas will be remembered as such a good one, miles and weeks away from last Christmas. For me, the last lights taken from the martian display will be good too, they mark the beginning of a new year, closing the story on 2009. I am here. That time passed and I am stronger for it and am grateful to the dear friends that held my hand during it all. You are amazing and I am so lucky to have you all. And to you Christine, I can't wait for the stories of 2010 to unfold on the Cinta Costera and if you know one more thing that I don't, you will left holding onto some ceramic chicken, not on the Cinta Costera, but on the Interamericana, hee...hee....
Friday, January 8, 2010
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Expiration Date
I discovered several things last night on Mother's Day...
1. There is an expiration date on the time you have to learn Spanish and be accepted into your family-in-law. No exceptions.
2. Changing la tema (the subject) doesn't change anything a drunk politician thinks he has the right to get off his chest.
3. The family-in-law doesn't care about if the wife gets home safely, only her offspring that contain the family-in-law's DNA.
4. Do not insult a man's wife even though he can do it all the time himself.
Reflections not yet shared on the Cinta Costera....
1. There is an expiration date on the time you have to learn Spanish and be accepted into your family-in-law. No exceptions.
2. Changing la tema (the subject) doesn't change anything a drunk politician thinks he has the right to get off his chest.
3. The family-in-law doesn't care about if the wife gets home safely, only her offspring that contain the family-in-law's DNA.
4. Do not insult a man's wife even though he can do it all the time himself.
Reflections not yet shared on the Cinta Costera....
Upon My Death
'Upon my death, you will be contacted by my lawyers, who will inform you of where the money is..."
My God, we have performed intimate acts, bonded genetic material, and created human life with these people and this is what they say, let me repeat, we have created human life and we can't know where the (money) is? (or whatever).
'Have you been snooping around my stuff? This is none of your concern. Can you close the bathroom door?' Again, we have created human life with these people and this is what we get?
All these things have been spoken, interpreted, analyzed on the 'Cinta Costera'. And of course, the Cinta Costera is merely a metaphor for our survival as women sharing, talking, crying, supporting each other so we can "survive to cook another day" in the immortal words of Alton Brown.
Before I go on, read the warning label.
DO NOT GO TO AN EXTENDED ANTHONY ROBBINS CONFERENCE or you will start writing books called The Art of Green Tea, Rollerskates and the Foo Man Choo.
Best, got to run...
My God, we have performed intimate acts, bonded genetic material, and created human life with these people and this is what they say, let me repeat, we have created human life and we can't know where the (money) is? (or whatever).
'Have you been snooping around my stuff? This is none of your concern. Can you close the bathroom door?' Again, we have created human life with these people and this is what we get?
All these things have been spoken, interpreted, analyzed on the 'Cinta Costera'. And of course, the Cinta Costera is merely a metaphor for our survival as women sharing, talking, crying, supporting each other so we can "survive to cook another day" in the immortal words of Alton Brown.
Before I go on, read the warning label.
DO NOT GO TO AN EXTENDED ANTHONY ROBBINS CONFERENCE or you will start writing books called The Art of Green Tea, Rollerskates and the Foo Man Choo.
Best, got to run...
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
The best therapy is not always found in the hallowed walls of Punta Pacifica hospital but on the red brick road of the Cinta Costera. The hour and half it takes to traverse the newly laid pathway that has brought Panama into the 21st century, provides the cost effective avenue for basic survival and freedom.
The Cinta Costera is not just a new bike path for all the young children of Punta Paitilla, but a new way for nannies to survive the long days that the senora is soaking her toes and chatting on her Blackberry at Luis Alberto.
The Cinta Costera is not just a new basketball court for those residents of Chorillo, but a chance for moments of freedom from their imprisonment in the scuander and poverty of this destitute area.
The Cinta Costa is not just a new opportunity for exercise in the form of blading, running, walking, skateboarding, but a chance for the overweight and unmotivated to choose a way to possibly overcome the weight and the excuses, a chance for those teenagers previously held captive to Facebook to find freedom on the top of a skateboard.
The Cinta Costera is not just a place that you can smell the aroma of a chorizo wafting from a makeshift grill, down a cold bottle of water and hear the clinging of the bell of the 'Paleta Man'. It is a place of new opportunity to make a buck or two that just might give a woman who makes $200 a month as maid, enough to buy the new shiny pair of shoes for her daughter's First Communion. A chance for the downtrodden to actually make rent this month.
And finally....the women of Cinta Costera. We are the women of Cinta Costera. Our survival depends not on the actual benefit of beautiful legs we might form and the few pounds we might drop to fit into our 'skinny' jeans but survival and freedom. Survival in the form of talking, sharing, complaining and crying to the dear friend next to us about motherhood, wifehood, lifehood. Freedom for an hour and a half from motherhood, wifehood, lifehood.
We enter the Cinta Costera often broken and bruised and return great warriors, ready to go back into battle again.
The hour and a half it takes to traverse the red brick road of the Cinta Costera is our walk of survival and freedom. For many of us, it is the walk of survival and freedom.
We are the women of the Cinta Costera.
When the hour and a half recess from motherhood, wifehood and lifehood is not possible because of motherhood, wifehood and lifehood, join us here on the Cinta Costera.
The Cinta Costera is not just a new bike path for all the young children of Punta Paitilla, but a new way for nannies to survive the long days that the senora is soaking her toes and chatting on her Blackberry at Luis Alberto.
The Cinta Costera is not just a new basketball court for those residents of Chorillo, but a chance for moments of freedom from their imprisonment in the scuander and poverty of this destitute area.
The Cinta Costa is not just a new opportunity for exercise in the form of blading, running, walking, skateboarding, but a chance for the overweight and unmotivated to choose a way to possibly overcome the weight and the excuses, a chance for those teenagers previously held captive to Facebook to find freedom on the top of a skateboard.
The Cinta Costera is not just a place that you can smell the aroma of a chorizo wafting from a makeshift grill, down a cold bottle of water and hear the clinging of the bell of the 'Paleta Man'. It is a place of new opportunity to make a buck or two that just might give a woman who makes $200 a month as maid, enough to buy the new shiny pair of shoes for her daughter's First Communion. A chance for the downtrodden to actually make rent this month.
And finally....the women of Cinta Costera. We are the women of Cinta Costera. Our survival depends not on the actual benefit of beautiful legs we might form and the few pounds we might drop to fit into our 'skinny' jeans but survival and freedom. Survival in the form of talking, sharing, complaining and crying to the dear friend next to us about motherhood, wifehood, lifehood. Freedom for an hour and a half from motherhood, wifehood, lifehood.
We enter the Cinta Costera often broken and bruised and return great warriors, ready to go back into battle again.
The hour and a half it takes to traverse the red brick road of the Cinta Costera is our walk of survival and freedom. For many of us, it is the walk of survival and freedom.
We are the women of the Cinta Costera.
When the hour and a half recess from motherhood, wifehood and lifehood is not possible because of motherhood, wifehood and lifehood, join us here on the Cinta Costera.
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