The Girl with the Mystery Moves

bee and beenie. mystery moves pay off ;)

the girl with the wine.

I may be full of myself. I admit it. But really…everyone wants to know who the girl with the mystery wine is. Yeah, my skin is chocolate like my African ancestry. Yeah, my backside is curvy, like my Sierra Leonean mother. Yeah, I wrap my head like my Madingo Muslim grandmother. Yeah, I stomp as my hips sway side to side like my pretty American princesses. But the wine…the wine…we have yet to place it.

even if i show them my lips, they might still question  my hips...movement unidentified.

To me, I dance like the Atlantic ocean that touches my west African roots, I rotate my hips like the Caribbean sea that surrounds the patois speaking islands, I shake my tumba like the afrobeat in my Sierra Leonean songs. This mixture, this touch, this thing has caused people some confusion here in Panama. They want to know where I’m from. They thought maybe if they stare they might place me. Not. They thought if they heard me speak, they might surmise. Then they saw me dance…and still, they couldn’t. They would never know that I am an American girl, who identifies as Sierra Leonean, who loves reggae, who dreams of dancing in the Congo with my favorite Soukous group, who transforms stares into energy and motivation to give a performance. They would never know that in my head, I am on a stage. On my own stage. Each and every time. They would never know just from looking at me. I would have to tell them.

what they were fighting for. closeness. 

And so on this particular day. They didn’t ask, just yet. They pushed me, taunted me, pulled me, spilled beer over me, called me puta and all. But I didn’t shake. I didn’t move. I simply gave them the space to do all the rudeness they wished since they were determined to make me so uncomfortable that I would move. Little did they know, I was determined to stay in the space that they had once occupied. Hey, as the saying goes, you move your feet, you lose your seat. Lol, well it was standing, but you get my point! And listen here, we all paid however much to get in that VIP Section and if I find an opportunity to get right smack in the middle and in the front, best believe that I will take that opportunity. And that’s exactly what I did. They just weren’t happy with it. They sent their best and rudest to challenge me. She started dancing on me. Wining on me from her back to my side. All in an effort to push me out of my spot or to get me pissed off so I would start something so that the whole crew could jump me. Little did they know, I would not be moved. Enty mi nah salone titi, ah don use for dance pan people dem, so we all go dance. I was chill. I gave a little something but not too much. She kept going and I kept going. They didn’t realize they had met their match. But then the dancing/challenging girl, had a light bulb moment. She must have recognized that mystery wine.

Suddenly, she stopped backing it up on me rudely and stared at me intensely before asking, “I have seen you before right,” in her Caribbean twang. I responded that I wasn’t sure. Then she proceeded to explain where she knew me from. She said, “weren’t you dancing at the Konshens concert, you had a green short pants on, I know you!” I replied yes, smiled coyly, (yes, I’m a little shy when I get recognized for these things). Then she high fived me and said she always wanted to know where I was from. Her crew stared intensely and waited for my response. “You from Jamaica,” she asked. The crew anxiously awaited my response…and then I silenced their curiosity. I was born in Washington DC, to Sierra Leonean parents. I’m an African girl, I said. Shoulders relaxed. Heads nodded. Everyone commenced to dancing again. This time together. The crew was from Bocas del Toro, Panama. All black like their Caribbean grandparents and African descendants. I was no longer the enemy. I wasn’t the mysterious wining girl that had taken their spot. I was just like them. Black, lover of reggae music, African. Same hips, same motions, same passion, same blood.

Bee's 3 Step Guide to Going Abroad: LIVE!

Step 3---You made it! And so...

First thing’s first. There is a good ol' saying from Sierra Leone, that the people always tell the JCs ( a term for newly arrived visitors, especially those Sierra Leone natives living abroad). They say "Nah for put u rights nah u pocket." In translation, put your rights in your pocket. In translation again, forget about all them rights and rules and essentially all the order that you know to exist in the western world. It’s a serious thing, though, we laugh at it. But it is one thing I recommend for travelers. It speaks to the ability to adapt to your local environment. This will help you stay calm and not become frustrated in certain situations. Take it easy, take the country for what it is, try hard not to compare it to what you know and you will be able to get the best experience out of it. Do I like brushing my buttocks against passengers as I squeeze to through the cramped aisles to find a seat? No. Do I look forward enduring the odor of someone’s long day of hard work? Um, not exactly. But do I like paying only .25 cents to get somewhere?  Um, yes. $3.00 to the beach. Um, yes. So I take it for what it is and sacrifice. Learn how to do this and you are half way to having a blast! And truly delving into what the country has to offer.

-Check into a hostel, couch-surf, or stay with a friend in town. Some people look for places to live before hand. I would recommend crashing somewhere until you are hired or have established an area that you want to be in. You should get a feel for the country and decide where you could see yourself living. I stayed at a nice hostel in the older section of Panama City upon arrival. And I am actually planning to move back there in a few weeks.

-Once you arrive, ask where you can get a small/cheap cell phone with a local number. This should be done almost immediately.

-Once you get yourself a number, add your new local number to your cover letter and resume and then re-send your cover letter/resume to your list of school contacts. Watch the magic happen!

-Ask about ways to get around and start checking out the locations of these language schools. Get some copies of your package printed and then hand deliver them to schools/businesses. This shows that you are serious and the reality is that down here and in other parts of the world it is highly likely that you will not get a response via email. I won’t even begin to go in to the many reasons as to why non-response should be expected. #aintnobodygottimeforthat

-Be patient. Again. And Again.

-Go out. Meet people. Network. Tell them what you are doing. Indulge the people who will spend minutes and minutes talking to you you about how they are investing in some weird project and even the people who say they have been traveling for 7 months and are just passing through. Just indulge them. You might learn a thing or to, or find someone with whom you share similar interested. And besides, you never know what connects they might have.

-Don't be usin’ all your money juuuuuust yet. (Yes, I said it like that. It was appropriate)

-Make a list of things/experiences you want to have while in country.

Deep Ish:

Make a list of what you didn’t come here to do. And every time you find yourself trippin' look back at that list.

For me, I didn’t come to panama to work excessively, to be stressed, to have that day-to-day stress of office job-ness and I didn’t come here to drive. I came here to walk as much as I could and be driven. I also came here to write more, live more, and self-reflect about how to build my future.

And so far, I have done those things. I’ll be honest and say that I do get stressed, but it’s a different kind of stressed than when I was in the States. I have had a lot of time to do just those things. However, I am almost ready for what’s next. Stay tuned.

But in the mean time, start your own journey.

Get back to Y.O.U. (Your Own Unfulfilled dreams)

Just G.O (Get Out!)

And

LIVE!

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!*

Sun, Sizzla, and Sand

up close and personal

So this past weekend Panama celebrated its independence from Colombia. I specify that because apparently they celebrate a few more independences this month. Basically, November in Panama is one big...beach party! Who am I to complain?

Not to mention it only cost $3.00 to get to the beaches on the Pacific side, which is where I spent my weekend. Something about knowing that I can see so much for so little is empowering. I get excited about the thought.

By now many of you have seen my picture with the phenomenal reggae artist that is Sizzla! Before I even knew when Panama's holiday was, I knew I would be at the concert. Even had my outfit planned. And of course I didn't get my ticket until two days before, haha. Typical.

Anyway, at the last minute I was convinced to head to the beach on Friday night instead of early Saturday morning as I had planned, in order to beat the traffic. Usually, I like to think things out a bit more, but I said whatever; this is all about adventure and experience, right? I was already packed so I did a quick mental checklist and went outside to catch a taxi to the bus terminal. There was only one problem and one problem only; I left after 9 and the last bus was leaving to Gorgona at 9:30. But like the 'blessing pikin' that I am, I made it (despite the taxi driver driving intentionally slow after I indicated that I was in a rush.) Either he was scared of going above the speed limit or he wanted to prolong our ride together. Either way I was annoyed.

from my 'bus'

I rushed to the bus---well, little minivan type of thing. It’s what we call ‘podahpodah’ in Sierra Leone, a ‘minibus’ in Guyana, or a ‘trhttp://trotrodiaries.tumblr.com/otro’ in Ghana. I was extremely close to this one guy who was adamant about sharing his 44th birthday plans with me. He told me about everything from his family to his birthday outfit. 

I finally arrived to the the town of Gorgona and you could feel the calm before the storm; it was clear that the next day would be a day of partying!

sunny days

hidin' out under the cliff catching waves

Saturday came quickly and I checked into a little house owned by a surfer guy in a beach town called El Palmar. This particular beach is frequented by many surfers because of the waves. There is also a surf school. I enjoyed the waves and all, but I'll leave the surfing to the surfers :) I will admit that it felt good to have the waves take you with them.

hey there

beautiful rock structure

I enjoyed the beach a bit more with my homegirl, who is actually learning to surf. Then we got ready and headed out to make an impression---I mean to go to the Sizzla Concert. Yay for Sand and Sizzla. How much better does it get?

Oh wait, it gets better!

I managed to make my way into the VIP section, which basically meant I was free to go riiiiight up close to the front. I figured why shouldn't I be as close as possible to the stage? I will only see Sizzla in Panama once, right? 

Okay, the VIP scheme wasn't that easy. I paid $40 for my ticket which was general admission, but my friends paid $40 on the day of and they got a VIP ticket. I would have been okay with this if there wasnt such a bigggg difference. Like general admission was like being on the back of the bus and not by choice. And I definitely did not come all the way to Panama to be in the back. No, no, no. Not Bintu Mary.

Needless to say, I put on my DMV charm, walked up to the security guy and asked him what the price difference was so I could pay it. He directed me to the ticket booth. I asked them the same question. They told me to hold on. Luckily my friend Javi had a better idea. He would just hold my hand and cover it with his VIP wristband and we would walk right in. We tried it. It worked---or so we thought, until I saw the security guy walking towards me out of the corner of my eye. Lol okay #fail1.

We explained the situation to him. My friend told me to speak only English. That would help our story if I pretended to be a clueless American girl. Then somehow my friend asked the security guard where he was from...and u guessed it...they were both from the city of Colon. That was it; in less than five seconds, that security guard walked right back and we walked right into VIP without problem. Later we slipped him $3.00. Gotta love third world hookups.

passionate performer

feelin' his music

And with that, I was rest assured in the VIP section.

Next mission was to work my way up to the front! And center. And if you know me, then you know I succeeded. I mean go hard or go home. And home is far from here. ;)

sandy days

The experience, the VIP hustle and all was amazing. The stadium was basically a stage set on the beach. So my feet were in sand. All the more hippie/bohemian and I loved every minute of it. Even the fact that the generator kept going out was exciting for me. When the lights went out we could see the stars. I have never thought the sky looked so beautiful. When my crew complained about the lights going out, I reminded them that we were at a reggae concert in Central America on the beach, feet in sand, how many more times will we be able to have this opportunity? Better yet, how grateful should we be that we even have this opportunity?

I even took a nap right there on the sand until the lights came back on. This was my type of thing. Beach vibin’ and reggae vibin’.

everyone diggin' the vibe

Rastas, backpackers, Panamanians, and a Sierra Leonean American girl who once dreamed of beach concerts. All of us came from different places for one thing: music. For the love of Sizzla's music and to witness his art. Music, if nothing else, is truly a powerful means of bringing people together. I will always remember the day I was walking in Suriname, a small country in South America. A black Surinamese approached me selling cds; I asked him what the hottest song was right now. He started singing ‘Yori Yori. There I was, somewhere in South America, oceans apart from Nigeria and the hottest song in Suriname, was a song by a Nigerian group. At that moment, I realized this: music is a binding force. Music transcends borders and oceans. 

Remember! Never take off your seatbelt---you never know what's next on Bee's Backseat---stay tuned for this weekend's adventure!