Global Bank. Calle 50. Panama City. My permanent route A particular feature largely in the streets Panama is the transportation system, a martyr to some, a necessity for others, all that I still do not have the privilege of having your own transport we have this opportunity as long as it should say where you are going to see if a the path matches the driver but ... forget it.
In this day something happened that I could not believe, got into a body a strange mix I ever get: A Panamanian xenophobic. The weirdest thing on the planet, is a bit illogical that a country which has always had a considerable number of foreigners as people and where there are so many cultures marked, there is just a xenophobic.
was about 6 pm, I rushed from work to go home and finish the day rewarded with eternal rest, after 6 taxis that did not match my destiny got one, I ride no matter if you take a route previous to mine, sometimes it makes you ignore the despair that Mr. will go elsewhere. first in those awkward silences where you prefer to first perceive the energy of the driver before setting up a routine conversation about the situation in the country, the typical political life does not leave you in peace, etc. suddenly sounded a song from Oscar de Leon on the radio, a legend here in Panama.
Joy reigned in me because I felt that somewhere Venezuela had a pretty face, until that dream was interrupted by a hoarse voice said (verbatim): I have fed these useless object Venezuelans should get out of here, what will complain if there are 10 thousand U.S. dollars to travel to where they want, rich kids come to play to investors in this country, clogging all "bastards."
My heart stopped, more than a simple sentence, I saw in the eyes of this man a huge rage that was directed more to resentment of years ago, beyond the fact that there are more than 200 000 Venezuelan Panama ... and I continued talking with a rosary into his head to finish praying for dissolving the traffic and get off at the first stop I got, if it was I would go walking.
In the midst of revolution of maaldiciones voodoo out of the mouth of that man, I saw in the corner of the car a knife, I was in a simulation of a taxi entered Carapita shortcuts, 80 000 things I was cleared to feel a direct question about him to me: "And you ... are you foreign maybe? because the little hair red and white pielcita betray you pretty girl ..."
I wanted to die of panic for a moment erased the fears inside of me ... until I got out of my subconscious a Panamanian accent young girls Colon Province (a province of Panama), I tried to use the Most idioms, expressions and Spanglish possible ... only protect me from such a character and apparently believed the gentleman ... did think it was one of them. I finally got rid
, I ran with a rage inside me ... because that man was a silly minimal compared Panamanian Charm ... especially toward Venezuela, that fascination with the programs, Venezuelan artists, for our women, our art ... can not be undermined by a man who is blinded by ignorance irremovable, that kind of ignorance and grates to be a malignant cancer on common sense. I refuse to believe that the Panamanian ... one of the noblest beings I have known, are capable of such barbarism ... I guess time will prove me right or make me a liar ... who knows. I will continue taking a risk, I do not care:)
