Birthday

My uncle Peter asked me what it´s like, being here in Panama. It sounds like an easy enough question, and at the time I think I answered with little hesitation. You can get used to anything. Life in the village feels normal to me now. Things that shock outsiders seem so minor to me that sometimes I wonder why they make such a big deal out of them. I uess i can't say exactly what it's lie being here because I've gotten so used to it.

While I was home, a lot of people asked me if the kids in my village get presents at Christmas. They don´t. If families celebrate, it might be with a nicer-than-normal meal. They spend a few extra dollars to have stewed chicken and maybe a bit of lettuce and tomato.

This idea seemed to make Americans sad. A Christmas without presents. But that´s only because we´ve always had something to open on Christmas morning. We´d miss all that stuff if we only had a plate of chicken to look forward to. But poor kids don´t believe in Santa. They don´t expect presents, so it´s not really sad when there aren´t any. That is just how Christmas is here. They eat well, spend the day with the family, and are truly grateful if the day goes by and everyone is healthy, happy and full. Sounds nicer than some American Christmases if you ask me.

Birthdays are the same. Special food if there´s money, and if not, it´s just another day. I got used to that. But returning to my community after spending two weeks in the states, and at a time when it´s buy buy buy, give give give, my view was set a little askew.

One of my favorites, Rosibel turned five on Friday. The day before her mother has been rushed to the hospital after fainting while washing clothes. Rosibel came over to my house early on Friday morning when Julio, her dad, stopped by to tell me he was going to the hospital for the day to be with his wife, and his oldest daughter would be watching the younger kids. I asked Julio if Rosibel knew it was her birthday. I thought maybe they hadn't said anything, since no one would be there to celebrate with her. Family emergencies take precedent. But he said that yes, she knew.

In the mixed-up mash of having one foot still in the U.S. and one in my village, I lost my balance a little bit. All of a sudden I wanted to give this girl a birthday. Maybe because her family made me a part of theirs in the last year, or because she is one of the sweetest, most adorable children around and expected nothing. And in a weird way, I think I wanted to do it mostly for me. When I returned to QP after being in the states, a heaviness landed on my chest. I wanted something fun for these people, something to be easy, to celebrate something. After almost a year and a half there I got used to the hardships and the rough edges, but I felt newly exposed once I came back.

So the mission that day was to lighten the mood. I made Rosibel a birthday crown. I gave her some change, a fortune to a five-year-old. And I let her in every single time she came by the house (at least five or six.) When I saw her running to the hill each time a bus slowed to see if her parents were finally coming, I offered to read her a story instead.

I don´t think I would have felt as sympathetic had I not just returned from the states. If you let every sad or difficult thing affect you here, you would be immobile. But somehow, after reminding myself how easy things can be at home compared to life here, I felt the need to make something easy just for once. Brighten a birthday just for the sake of it.

You can get used to anything, including forgotten birthdays and holidays. In the big scheme of things, they are trivial. But sometimes all it takes is a birthday crown and a smile to turn a couple of girls' day around.

From 2011-01-12

(she insisted on posing with the pencil sharpeners)