Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Santa, Where Are You?

I was so excited.

We were going to visit Santa. Or more correctly, we were going to visit Papa Noel. I've never talked to Papa Noel in Spanish before. Do you get more presents? Mangos instead of oranges? Tank tops and sandals instead of socks and underwear? I didn't know, but I was very excited to find out.

Geovanny, Natalia and I had been wandering through the mall close to our house a couple of weeks ago when Papa Noel was there taking photos with children. He didn't look like the Santa of my childhood. His beard was much longer and white, and he wore long thick furry white robes. There was no red suit, no black leather belt. This Papa Noel reminded me of some of the Santa figurines that Nana displays around her house. He would definitely be nice and toasty in the North Pole. Not quite sure how he was surviving at the equator. (I know I was hot in my tank top and skirt.)

We decided not to take the family portrait with Papa Noel then because we were all a bit cranky but vowed to come back that weekend. But then we went to the banana plantation. And then we went to the pool. And then to the beach. Suddenly it was the day before we were supposed to leave. So we all shower, put on our fancy cloths, and walk down to the mall.

But there is no Papa Noel. His chair was there, his tree was there, but he was not there. Nor would he be returning until Natalia and I were somewhere over Central America.

I was crushed. Geovanny was excited that he didn't have to take his sunglasses off. Natalia just wanted to go the wrong way up the escalator. So we did the next best thing. We took pictures in front of his tree and then went out for ice cream.

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