Word of the Week: ¡Lento!
Sunday, September 14th, Nef and I headed off to Villa Virginia, a Baha'i Institute about 55 kilometers from Panama City. Villa Virginia is right outside the town of Capira.
It took about an hour and a half from the Temple to get and for the most part, the ride was uneventful. I was kinda falling asleep in the car, actually...
...Until we got to the town! When we got to the town, a parade was starting. A police officer let us through the road because it hadn't quite reached our intersection, and then we realized it was a loop. And that the loop started right in front of us in another street. And that the parade had already started. We were stuck in a road closed off at both intersections with a parade. So naturally, we got popsicles and watched the parade until they all passed.
I haven't really been homesick. I guess having been away for 8 weeks in Europe has conditioned me a little. But I must say, watching the drummers, cymbals, and bugles made me miss Marching Band and drum cadences. I really really like listening to drum cadences. So, watching the parade made me really happy, but it's end made me sad. Who know. Drum cadences.
Right before it ended, we found some people we knew. Yay! They were walking back to VV/looking for a cab, but they had just bought a bunch of groceries, so we took their groceries in our car and drove the last leg of our journey.
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| Nef in front of the main building |
They people driving us were actually going somewhere else, so they left Nef and I at VV, but the rest of the kids soon arrived in a taxi.
That night, it was 3 girls and about 3 times as many guys. We watched some movies together in the girl's dorm.
The next morning we got up late. Well, it was early (anything before 9 is early for me), but it was later than we were suppose to be getting up. We were SUPPOSE to be up at 6 for breakfast at 7, but everyone got up around 7 and breakfast was late. Then, we started working on Ruhí books. Here, Wikipedia explains what Ruhí is fairly well. Nefertiti and I had done some of the books, but not all of them, and not in Spanish. So, we needed to restart them in Spanish.
Most of each day was spent working on the books. Nef and I managed to get through book 1 and the first section of book 3. Considering it was all in Spanish, and a lot of it is in very highly educated language/spiritual language, it was HARD! Made our heads hurt.
In the evenings, we would play games with the rest of the kids. In particular, we played Banderines. Which, according to Google Translate, translates to “Pins.”
How To Play Banderines:
After the countdown, all hell breaks loose. The first time we played, Nef and I were so confused (the Spanglish explanation was a little hard to understand) that we just stood there as everyone ran at each other. The second time, we started running, but we didn’t exactly know what we were doing, so we just totally cracked up laughing at the absurdity of the scene. Finally we got in explained a little better.
Basically, this is a game with few rules. Once you count down, sides don’t really matter so much, because everyone can just kinda run anywhere. Well, anywhere possible. It can get a little dangerous because once the running starts, the grabbing/tackling starts. Everyone grabs each other in attempts to prevent the other team from grabbing their shoe (we used shoes). But once your grabbed, in makes no difference, because it’s all up to you to pull away from them if you can, or pull them with you (if you’re sting enough) as to try to reach the shoe. Once you reach it, you grab the shoe. Ya. It’s over.
Of course, it’s a lot more complicated in action because people are grabbing each other and trying to hold you and prevent you from getting the shoe, but it’s totally possible to have several people holding on to you and you still be able to grab the shoe and win. The other team is not really suppose to take their shoe or move it too far away from it’s original placement, but there isn’t all that much of specifications as to how to guard. But, sitting on the shoe is generally frowned upon.
A variation on this game is when there are a chair or something placed on each side and the shoes are having to be brought to the opposing team’s chair. You stick the shoe in one teammate’s shirt or behind their back, and the first team to get their shoe to the chair wins.
Any way you play it, this game wasn’t quite like any game I’d played before. I feel like it’s maybe a mixture of capture the flag and tackle football? The rounds were usually short, so you would play it many many times. I guess you could keep score, but we never did. We just played it over and over again until we had to stop. The game itself mattered more than who won or how many times. And it didn’t really matter who you were, either. Anybody could be the one to grab the shoe and win. Sometime it was because you were strong or small or fast or persistent or maybe you went unnoticed and had a good opening. The best way to go was to have a diverse group of people on each team, because you never knew who it would be grabbing the shoe.
Nef and I were pretty good, if I do say so myself. The joke was that one guy, Ricardo, would ask Nef and I to be “Leeennntttooooo” and we would ask him to speak “Lento.” That word was used quite a lot that week. Nef has this great technique of kinda bulldozing people over to be able to get to the shoe, and so another joke from a kid on our team was to tell Nef to go “boom boom.” He was a hilarious guy. He could sometimes translate to English for us, but more often, he could just translate into sound effects for us. It made for a funny translation of a ghost story later on. I guess my technique was to just do my best to pull whoever grabbed me, with me, so that I could get the shoe. Sometimes one of the guys would grab me and it’d be a pretty even match, resulting in a little stalemate. But sometimes it would be close enough that I could just wriggle my way to the shoe. I wasn’t totally consistent.
Another thing Nef and I found utterly hilarious was another interaction with a teammate. We didn’t always do strategy, but when we did, I would do much best to figure out what it was. But anyways, during one short strategy talk one of my teammates didn’t know my name (I guess it sounds Latin enough that it's easier to forget) and so he called me “Blancita.”
Let me explain. Blanco = white. I’m white. In Panama, I’m really really white. Sure, there’s pale people here, but still, in most places, I stand out. But also, race is.. race. It’s not seem as racist (Oh no, taboo words!) to point out or call someone by the color of their skin. It’s used super casually. For example, some Asians run the little store near our house. So, to hear something like “me voy el chinos” or variations thereof is normal. But it’s also used like a term of endearment. One of the teens is black, therefore, the other guys call him “negro.” But, this is not just Panama. It happens in other Latin countries too. I’m not sure why, but it’s just the way it is. Considering how often you hear about racial problems in the US, I wish we could take race a little less seriously. People look different. Got it. But doesn’t it matter how they look? No. If you’re trying to describe to talk about someone, should it be frowned upon to say their race or color of their skin? I don’t think it should be. It should be like saying “the woman” or “the short one.” But until everyone stops judging each other’s bodies so harshly, I don’t know if we could use such honesty so casually. Because let me point out, if “fat” was the word used rather than “white” or “tall,” people would not be happy. The US is the land of taboo words.
So, I got called Blancita. And he probably forgot about it quite after, but it definitely stuck with me. NOT because I was offended. I was not. I know I’m white. And he didn’t remember my name. But it was the first time I’d ever gotten something like that, so it was the first time I truly thought about my being called by my race. It was a truly interesting situation, and Nef and I both laughed about it during the time it happened and even much later after.
Other things we did at VV in the evenings: Watched a few movies, karaoke, scary stories, late-night snacks (always the most exciting), conversations on the porch of the dorms, ran around because of creepy sounds or lights... I won't say who (it wasn't me), but someone in the girl's dorm ended up taking the mirror down and turning it towards the wall because "tengo miedo."
Also, on Thursday we went on an adventure and hiked up the creek. That was fun. Reminded me of the many times I've done it with my long-time friend Forest in North Carolina.
Joel didn’t want us drinking the water, because it came from a well and had a great deal of minerals in it. It definitely smelled and tasted like it was full of minerals. It was safe, but because we were new, he just didn’t want us to drink it straight. So we always boiled our water, or had tea (= still boiled). I found it intriguing to drink tea because there would be some foam on top of my tea, and in the foam, there were little dots that were either tea bits, minerals, or both. Either way, I was fine drinking it. And we had a lot of tea.
Nef and I great roommates in that we have a lot of matching qualities. Like an obsession with tea (or food in general. I’ll dedicate a whole post to this later). On Monday and Friday they made a huge pot of tea. Huge huge. Since this kitchen was made for feeding lots of people, everything was in a bigger size. Annnyywaaayyss, we had about 5 cups of black tea Friday. We had like 3 during breakfast, but then there were poured cups left over that people hadn’t taken, so we took some of those (can’t let it go to waste!) and then for lunch we each poured a big glass of [now cold] tea, which totally made me happy. Like, it was fairly sweet, so it was the closest I had to having Sweet Tea since leaving the South.
Some of the kids also partially stripped and played around in the creek on Friday. After spending 5 days together, it was sad to leave people. Of course, about half of the group came home with us because they were from Panama City, but the other half assumedly (how is that not a real word??) went back to their respective areas. Being home is great, but I also can’t wait to see everyone again (fingers crossed!) during the Summer School week in December. Hee hee. Summer School.
See Ya!
The next morning we got up late. Well, it was early (anything before 9 is early for me), but it was later than we were suppose to be getting up. We were SUPPOSE to be up at 6 for breakfast at 7, but everyone got up around 7 and breakfast was late. Then, we started working on Ruhí books. Here, Wikipedia explains what Ruhí is fairly well. Nefertiti and I had done some of the books, but not all of them, and not in Spanish. So, we needed to restart them in Spanish.
Most of each day was spent working on the books. Nef and I managed to get through book 1 and the first section of book 3. Considering it was all in Spanish, and a lot of it is in very highly educated language/spiritual language, it was HARD! Made our heads hurt.
In the evenings, we would play games with the rest of the kids. In particular, we played Banderines. Which, according to Google Translate, translates to “Pins.”
How To Play Banderines:
- Split your field/area/space generally into 2, and your people into 2 teams.
- Each team has an item. It can be a small ball, a shoe, a piece of cloth, whatever. It’s preferred that the items are the same for the sake of fairness.
- Like capture the flag, the items are placed on the ground to the back of side’s area.
- Count to 3.
- GET THE SHOE (or whatever items you used).
After the countdown, all hell breaks loose. The first time we played, Nef and I were so confused (the Spanglish explanation was a little hard to understand) that we just stood there as everyone ran at each other. The second time, we started running, but we didn’t exactly know what we were doing, so we just totally cracked up laughing at the absurdity of the scene. Finally we got in explained a little better.
Basically, this is a game with few rules. Once you count down, sides don’t really matter so much, because everyone can just kinda run anywhere. Well, anywhere possible. It can get a little dangerous because once the running starts, the grabbing/tackling starts. Everyone grabs each other in attempts to prevent the other team from grabbing their shoe (we used shoes). But once your grabbed, in makes no difference, because it’s all up to you to pull away from them if you can, or pull them with you (if you’re sting enough) as to try to reach the shoe. Once you reach it, you grab the shoe. Ya. It’s over.
Of course, it’s a lot more complicated in action because people are grabbing each other and trying to hold you and prevent you from getting the shoe, but it’s totally possible to have several people holding on to you and you still be able to grab the shoe and win. The other team is not really suppose to take their shoe or move it too far away from it’s original placement, but there isn’t all that much of specifications as to how to guard. But, sitting on the shoe is generally frowned upon.
A variation on this game is when there are a chair or something placed on each side and the shoes are having to be brought to the opposing team’s chair. You stick the shoe in one teammate’s shirt or behind their back, and the first team to get their shoe to the chair wins.
Any way you play it, this game wasn’t quite like any game I’d played before. I feel like it’s maybe a mixture of capture the flag and tackle football? The rounds were usually short, so you would play it many many times. I guess you could keep score, but we never did. We just played it over and over again until we had to stop. The game itself mattered more than who won or how many times. And it didn’t really matter who you were, either. Anybody could be the one to grab the shoe and win. Sometime it was because you were strong or small or fast or persistent or maybe you went unnoticed and had a good opening. The best way to go was to have a diverse group of people on each team, because you never knew who it would be grabbing the shoe.
Nef and I were pretty good, if I do say so myself. The joke was that one guy, Ricardo, would ask Nef and I to be “Leeennntttooooo” and we would ask him to speak “Lento.” That word was used quite a lot that week. Nef has this great technique of kinda bulldozing people over to be able to get to the shoe, and so another joke from a kid on our team was to tell Nef to go “boom boom.” He was a hilarious guy. He could sometimes translate to English for us, but more often, he could just translate into sound effects for us. It made for a funny translation of a ghost story later on. I guess my technique was to just do my best to pull whoever grabbed me, with me, so that I could get the shoe. Sometimes one of the guys would grab me and it’d be a pretty even match, resulting in a little stalemate. But sometimes it would be close enough that I could just wriggle my way to the shoe. I wasn’t totally consistent.
Another thing Nef and I found utterly hilarious was another interaction with a teammate. We didn’t always do strategy, but when we did, I would do much best to figure out what it was. But anyways, during one short strategy talk one of my teammates didn’t know my name (I guess it sounds Latin enough that it's easier to forget) and so he called me “Blancita.”
Let me explain. Blanco = white. I’m white. In Panama, I’m really really white. Sure, there’s pale people here, but still, in most places, I stand out. But also, race is.. race. It’s not seem as racist (Oh no, taboo words!) to point out or call someone by the color of their skin. It’s used super casually. For example, some Asians run the little store near our house. So, to hear something like “me voy el chinos” or variations thereof is normal. But it’s also used like a term of endearment. One of the teens is black, therefore, the other guys call him “negro.” But, this is not just Panama. It happens in other Latin countries too. I’m not sure why, but it’s just the way it is. Considering how often you hear about racial problems in the US, I wish we could take race a little less seriously. People look different. Got it. But doesn’t it matter how they look? No. If you’re trying to describe to talk about someone, should it be frowned upon to say their race or color of their skin? I don’t think it should be. It should be like saying “the woman” or “the short one.” But until everyone stops judging each other’s bodies so harshly, I don’t know if we could use such honesty so casually. Because let me point out, if “fat” was the word used rather than “white” or “tall,” people would not be happy. The US is the land of taboo words.
So, I got called Blancita. And he probably forgot about it quite after, but it definitely stuck with me. NOT because I was offended. I was not. I know I’m white. And he didn’t remember my name. But it was the first time I’d ever gotten something like that, so it was the first time I truly thought about my being called by my race. It was a truly interesting situation, and Nef and I both laughed about it during the time it happened and even much later after.
Other things we did at VV in the evenings: Watched a few movies, karaoke, scary stories, late-night snacks (always the most exciting), conversations on the porch of the dorms, ran around because of creepy sounds or lights... I won't say who (it wasn't me), but someone in the girl's dorm ended up taking the mirror down and turning it towards the wall because "tengo miedo."
Also, on Thursday we went on an adventure and hiked up the creek. That was fun. Reminded me of the many times I've done it with my long-time friend Forest in North Carolina.
Joel didn’t want us drinking the water, because it came from a well and had a great deal of minerals in it. It definitely smelled and tasted like it was full of minerals. It was safe, but because we were new, he just didn’t want us to drink it straight. So we always boiled our water, or had tea (= still boiled). I found it intriguing to drink tea because there would be some foam on top of my tea, and in the foam, there were little dots that were either tea bits, minerals, or both. Either way, I was fine drinking it. And we had a lot of tea.
Nef and I great roommates in that we have a lot of matching qualities. Like an obsession with tea (or food in general. I’ll dedicate a whole post to this later). On Monday and Friday they made a huge pot of tea. Huge huge. Since this kitchen was made for feeding lots of people, everything was in a bigger size. Annnyywaaayyss, we had about 5 cups of black tea Friday. We had like 3 during breakfast, but then there were poured cups left over that people hadn’t taken, so we took some of those (can’t let it go to waste!) and then for lunch we each poured a big glass of [now cold] tea, which totally made me happy. Like, it was fairly sweet, so it was the closest I had to having Sweet Tea since leaving the South.
Some of the kids also partially stripped and played around in the creek on Friday. After spending 5 days together, it was sad to leave people. Of course, about half of the group came home with us because they were from Panama City, but the other half assumedly (how is that not a real word??) went back to their respective areas. Being home is great, but I also can’t wait to see everyone again (fingers crossed!) during the Summer School week in December. Hee hee. Summer School.
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| The entire group inside the main building |
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