Friday, December 7, 2012

Why I Love the Black Man


My friend asked me about my future today. What my plans were. Who I would marry. How things would work with me being a jetsetter. Somehow we started talking about what type of men I like and who I see myself with in the future. I told him that I had one problem:  that I love black men. He asked me what I like about black men. And then, my heart poured these words out.


Why I love the Black Man

I love the way he holds me...authoritative, showing ownership, yet so sweet and loving

I love the way his facial features are strong, yet so gentle and graceful

I love the way his cheekbones protrude from his African face, yet so softly

I love the way he palms my buttocks while holding me...rocking side to side...intense yet so tender

I love the way his hair rests on his head, black in sight, smooth to touch

I love the way his hair fades to the back of his neck, prickly yet made to caress

I love the way his hands glide over me...hands rough from hard work but never too rough to rub my soft skin

I love the way his dark full lips engolf my dark full lips...

I love the way we feed each other with our selves...

I love the way he supports, provides, gives and is the backbone...yet isnt afraid to lean on his woman or be in need of love, affection, advice, anything...

I love the way a black man loves me...with fear, with passion, with intensity, with need, with lust, with love, with with with with his all.

I love the way my black man loves me...


It took me less than 10 minutes to write all the things I appreciate about Black men. What do you appreciate about him?

Monday, December 3, 2012

Walking the Fine Line




I am well aware that the concept of the haves and the have nots exists all over the world. Yet, the prevalence of classism that I have personally experienced since I have arrived in Panama is absolutely absurd. I don't think I have ever thought about class soooo much before coming here. Could be because I spend almost all of my week with professionals and wealthy expats wanting to learn English. I think so.

somewhere around where the haves live
You see here in Panama, there are two lovely words that describe the disparities that exist in the city. And people are constantly reminding you of what is what.  Call it what you may, but I find them both rather annoying for several reasons. ‘Raka Taka,’ which is an equivalent of describing someone that might be called hood or ghetto and ‘YeiYei,’ which is the equivalent of describing the money people and the ‘bougie lifestyle.’

Allow me to explore my experience a bit more with you…

My morning class had warned me that certain things were raka taka in Panama. When I asked what raka taka was they all contributed to explain things that could were considered raka taka. My dear God, I can’t even begin to list these things on this blog; I would probably have to check many of the qualifications off for myself, lol. In a nutshell, they said it was low class…

I was still feeling things out then so I didn't form an opinion on the term. I was only taking mental notes at this point. Just mental notes.

Once as I tutored a student who was trying to pass an English exam, he asked about my social life. Admittedly, I told him that I hadn't really started going out much as I was still figuring things out and getting settled. He then proceeded to tell me which clubs to go to and which clubs not to go to, noting that one club in particular [which will remain unnamed] used to be really nice, but has since lessened in quality since now it is frequented by the "low class." He said "Oh no, teacher. Don’t go there it's low class." Mental note to self: explore what he meant by that, although I think I had an idea of exactly what he meant. I had checked out that same club just a few days back and it was pretty cool. I digged the music and could see myself going back.

Or like two weeks ago when one of my students pulled out a map and proceeded to delineate a line between where the rich people lived in the city and where the rich people did not live in the city. She assumed that I lived within those lines. She was SO excited about the discovery of this map.

Raka beach? lol. just the BEACH!
Finally, the other day as I was sitting in the teachers lounge before class, two teachers discussed weekend plans. One suggested a beach and then the other quickly surmised that the beach might not be relaxing. When I asked why not, he indicated that it wouldn't be relaxing because it was a raka-taka kind of beach and that while you try to relax, someone might come right next to your sand space and start blastin’ reggaeton. WOW. So I tried to hold it in, but that had been my breaking point.

1. So a beach that is raka cannot be relaxing.
2. Only rakas listen to Reggaeton and in fact, at the beach, they will surely invade your private space with it. That’s just what rakas do. (I am sure he meant Plena, which is Panamanian reggae and pretty darn awesome!)

Okay. When the other teacher asked what raka meant, he said that it was the Panamanian equivalent to the American term "white trash." I argued that it was everything that the money havin’ Panamanians and expats considered trash...not just white.

The room got tense. I was tense. I had reached my breaking point with this.
walking contrast. literally and figuratively
Almost four months into living here in Panama and I now realize why I am having such a hard time dealing with the constant usage of these words. The use of these words aside from the fact that it attempts to clearly delineate two social classes, makes a person feel like they have to choose what to do to stay clearly within one of these groups and steer far away from the other. Secondly, aside from the fact that I have always considered myself a well-rounded person, it is always evident that in Panama the activities that have made me feel the most connected to Panamanian people and culture are those that people might consider raka taka or frown upon. I believe in getting into the people, delving into the culture, mingling, and being a part of the experience. I didn’t come all the way to Panama to hang out at the Hard Rock hotel that is reminiscent of every Hard Rock hotel in the states. I didn’t come to Panama to mingle with people in a bar that is frequented by people who are other teachers, backpackers, expats, etc. I can do that stuff every once in a while. But I came to Panama to be in Panama. I came here to live and experience a culture outside of my own upbringing and to really feel like I am traveling. I did not come to Panama to stay in my comfort zone or do things that are modeled after bar, clubs, and restaurants in US cities. Take me to the real Panama. Take me to get empanadas and chicha* for $1.00. Take me on a $0.25 bus ride on the Diablo Rojo*. Take me to Avenida B to bargain shop and have raspao*. Take me to Mercado de Mariscos* where I can have ceviche for $3.00 and kick it with the locals. Take me to my homegirl’s house where I can meet other real people and 'parquiar'* like my Panamanians say. Let me here Plena, Reggaeton, Reggae, Bachata, Salsa, anything that screams foreign! I want it all…and if that means raca taca, then so be it. Let my standard Spanish be a must and let me pick up the local version of Panamanian Spanish ‘Que Xopaaaaa?’* Lol. Love it.

ridin' the Diablo Rojo to work.
Insert sound effect here:____________. “Teacher, you ride the Diablo Rojo? *Gasp* how is it?” Me: It is just fine; I am alive, well, and made it out to teach you English today…all for $.25 ;)

And so, I bask in joy as I tell them about how exciting my weekend activities were in the areas they would never venture, listening to the music that is very unrelaxing ;) and most importantly “low class.” I bask in letting them know that as their teacher of English and co worker, I am open to all. Perhaps then they will understand the ambiguity of a person that is the English teacher, Bintu Musa.

a sister sent this to me and i was moved by it and it fits here! credit: unknown
Above all, I am an open-minded and adaptable young woman that can fit in anywhere. Take me to an official gathering with diplomats and I will chop it up and impress all the same. I don’t walk around claiming to be from one of the richest counties in the US, nor do I rag on having lived in some of the poorest areas of this county. I can hold my own in any environment. The fact remains that in all that I do, I keep an open mind and invite all types of people, good people into my circle, and into my life. I travel to live the experience. One day I will do it for an official entity and I will make them proud by bridging gaps that often exist across cultures.

Signed Shamelessly,

a Sierra Leonean-American girl who just really wants to explore another culture sans the labels.


*Chicha- natural/local juice
*Diablo Rojo- local bus---meaning Red Devil, literally
*Raspao- a delicious type of shaved ice with your favorite flavor,creamer and condensed milk---yummy!
*Mercado de Mariscos- Seafood Market
*Parquiar- Panamanian slang for chillin'
*Que Xopa- Panamanian slang for 'what's up?'

NEXT! Surprise destination pending for this weekend. Please mark your calendars, pack your bags and most importantly, strap your seatbelts!*