A Morning at Wild Woman's
10 years ago
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Posts
I promise I will get a post up soon. I have more surfing disaster stories. No worries. I apologize for not posting for some time, I knew Dan would always post more than me...but Chop??? I need to get going on this.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Monday, November 9, 2009
Surf's Up (And Down) in Aguadilla
Two weekends ago, the whole volunteer crew decided to see what all the fuss was about. Pretty much everyone we’ve talked to has recommended we visit the west coast. Also, because of seasonal currents, starting in November and ending in March, the west coast has a giant swell that attracts surfers from all over the world to Rincón and Aguadilla. Rincón was the home of world surfing competitions back in the 60’s and 70’s. We were all excited to experience the beauty we had heard about and also to possibly go surfing.
We left early Saturday morning. Unfortunately, the drive took longer than expected. The major highway going west was closed for about 30 miles due to the oil refinery explosion. We decided to stay the night, so we booked a hotel with 2 queen beds, and 1 double for 85 dollars. Not bad when it’s split 5 ways. Beds, air conditioning, and a hot shower were more than we could ask for. The price of the hotel reflects the general philosophy of life in Aguadilla. The hotel manager told us the beds are packed in tight and the price is cheap because he started the hotel so that surfers could come in flocks to enjoy the beach without breaking the bank. Everyone is laid back during the day and ready to party at night. It’s a sleepy little village that revolves around surfing; everyone just wants to catch that big wave of the day and celebrate it later. As you may have guessed, I was totally in my element. I love everything about Aguadilla. It was a welcome change of pace from the death stares we get in San Juan.
Playa Crashboat (Crashboat Beach) is famous in Aguadilla. It apparently got its ominous name from the eventual wreckage of all boats that docked there due to the massive waves. We journeyed there after we dropped our stuff off at the hotel. Getting to the beach anywhere in Aguadilla from the town is an adventure in itself. The streets, or lack thereof, descend rapidly in a crazy zigzag pattern through heavy brush until you happen upon the ocean. We enjoyed some cheap, beachside pinchos (barbecued meat on a stick) before laying out. Unfortunately, the day was cut short. An hour or so after our arrival, an incredible storm hit the coast. The raindrops were larger than I had ever seen and they didn’t stop all night. Unbelievably, the hotel television had a multitude of channels, including NBC! The day was saved with a case of beer and a Notre Dame victory over BC. Chalk the day up as a tie.
The next day we decided to venture further north to Playa los Jobos. This beach is famous for its surf. After asking directions from everyone in town, a supposed 15-minute drive took us over an hour. The beach was beautiful and everyone there seemed to be having a great time. Tiki bars and sandwich shops lined the beach and reggae was constantly playing. I immediately inquired about surfboard rentals and we quickly found a young surfer dude that was renting out his 3 surfboards. He let us rent each board for 2-3 hours for 20 bucks a piece.
When I first got my opportunity with the board, the waves were of moderate height. I was surprised how easily I got up. That specific beach area has a kind of bay feature to it. I rode a few waves almost all the way across the bay. I had to swim to the shore and walk the board back to our spot. I passed the board off until it was my turn again. My success had ended with that last run. Once I got the board back, the waves were more powerful due to high tide. The waves were also more frequent. I was definitely struggling to even paddle out to wear the waves pick up. Dengue’s damage was evident; I felt weak. Eventually, I got up on a few waves but was tossed after a short run. I also had trouble dropping in. The front part of my board kept dipping too far into the wave, which always resulted in a sandy and salty ending for Jon. Undeterred, I will surf again.
With this surfing adventure came many new lessons. First, I now know why surfers wear rash guard shirts. Given the poor quality of the rental board and the long day of surfing, my nipples felt like I had breastfed an elephant. A powerful image, I know, but it’s the only way I can make you understand the pain. Second, surfers have those slender, compact bodies for a reason. Everything from paddling out, to catching the wave, and maintaining balance is an intense core workout. I didn’t realize how much my abs and arms hurt until about midway through the day. Thirdly, I love the ocean. Okay, that’s not a new lesson, but I do!
Pictures and videos coming shortly after this post! Check the Web Albums.
We left early Saturday morning. Unfortunately, the drive took longer than expected. The major highway going west was closed for about 30 miles due to the oil refinery explosion. We decided to stay the night, so we booked a hotel with 2 queen beds, and 1 double for 85 dollars. Not bad when it’s split 5 ways. Beds, air conditioning, and a hot shower were more than we could ask for. The price of the hotel reflects the general philosophy of life in Aguadilla. The hotel manager told us the beds are packed in tight and the price is cheap because he started the hotel so that surfers could come in flocks to enjoy the beach without breaking the bank. Everyone is laid back during the day and ready to party at night. It’s a sleepy little village that revolves around surfing; everyone just wants to catch that big wave of the day and celebrate it later. As you may have guessed, I was totally in my element. I love everything about Aguadilla. It was a welcome change of pace from the death stares we get in San Juan.
Playa Crashboat (Crashboat Beach) is famous in Aguadilla. It apparently got its ominous name from the eventual wreckage of all boats that docked there due to the massive waves. We journeyed there after we dropped our stuff off at the hotel. Getting to the beach anywhere in Aguadilla from the town is an adventure in itself. The streets, or lack thereof, descend rapidly in a crazy zigzag pattern through heavy brush until you happen upon the ocean. We enjoyed some cheap, beachside pinchos (barbecued meat on a stick) before laying out. Unfortunately, the day was cut short. An hour or so after our arrival, an incredible storm hit the coast. The raindrops were larger than I had ever seen and they didn’t stop all night. Unbelievably, the hotel television had a multitude of channels, including NBC! The day was saved with a case of beer and a Notre Dame victory over BC. Chalk the day up as a tie.
The next day we decided to venture further north to Playa los Jobos. This beach is famous for its surf. After asking directions from everyone in town, a supposed 15-minute drive took us over an hour. The beach was beautiful and everyone there seemed to be having a great time. Tiki bars and sandwich shops lined the beach and reggae was constantly playing. I immediately inquired about surfboard rentals and we quickly found a young surfer dude that was renting out his 3 surfboards. He let us rent each board for 2-3 hours for 20 bucks a piece.
When I first got my opportunity with the board, the waves were of moderate height. I was surprised how easily I got up. That specific beach area has a kind of bay feature to it. I rode a few waves almost all the way across the bay. I had to swim to the shore and walk the board back to our spot. I passed the board off until it was my turn again. My success had ended with that last run. Once I got the board back, the waves were more powerful due to high tide. The waves were also more frequent. I was definitely struggling to even paddle out to wear the waves pick up. Dengue’s damage was evident; I felt weak. Eventually, I got up on a few waves but was tossed after a short run. I also had trouble dropping in. The front part of my board kept dipping too far into the wave, which always resulted in a sandy and salty ending for Jon. Undeterred, I will surf again.
With this surfing adventure came many new lessons. First, I now know why surfers wear rash guard shirts. Given the poor quality of the rental board and the long day of surfing, my nipples felt like I had breastfed an elephant. A powerful image, I know, but it’s the only way I can make you understand the pain. Second, surfers have those slender, compact bodies for a reason. Everything from paddling out, to catching the wave, and maintaining balance is an intense core workout. I didn’t realize how much my abs and arms hurt until about midway through the day. Thirdly, I love the ocean. Okay, that’s not a new lesson, but I do!
Pictures and videos coming shortly after this post! Check the Web Albums.
Friday, October 30, 2009
I Got A Fever...And The Only Prescription Is More...Wait, There Is No Prescription. I Have Dengue.
Approximately one week after Andrea left Puerto Rico, Dan acquired the flu, which is still going strong on the island. He had a fever and chills one night and was very weak/tired for the following few days. A few days after Dan began to feel better, I was hit by a ton of bricks. One weekday night, I was watching the latest episode of House on my computer when I began to feel sick. I started the episode feeling great, but once I got to the end and packed up my computer, I could barely stand up. I also got the chills to a degree I have never felt. My whole entire body was shaking, so much so that my teeth began to hurt from all the chattering. It is generally about 90 degrees in my apartment, even at night. Despite the heat, I was freezing. I became very weak and decided to go to bed early. I notified my roommates of my bizarre illness, took some Tylenol, threw on a sweatshirt, and hopped under the covers.
I woke up at least 5 times during the evening. Sometimes I woke up with the same extreme chills, sometimes I woke up drenched in sweat. My entire bed was soaked with sweat. I felt too sick to move or do anything about it, so I laid there most of the night. I knew I had a high fever, but we didn’t have a thermometer. The next day I woke up with 3 more symptoms. 1) I had absolutely no appetite. 2) Every part of my body ached. It was the feeling of squatting in the weight room for the first time in a long time, except everywhere on my body. This made it hard to even walk. 3) The worst part by far was the extreme migraine. I had trouble looking at light. Then I had trouble moving my eyes around. If I looked up, my eyes had a sharp, shooting pain. I won’t go into how the situation of me not having insurance yet or expound on the way my sickness was handled, but I went on this way for another 2-3 days. We finally got a thermometer after I was feeling somewhat better and my temperature keep floating between 101.5 and 102. I couldn’t believe how much better I felt compared to the first few days and my temperature was 102. What was my temperature that first night? 104?
Eventually, I broke into an unbelievable rash all over my body. Up until this point a doctor and many others decided I had the flu. The rash, though, is a Dengue Fever hallmark. I finally got to a doctor and got some blood work done. I had Dengue Fever. On a side note, the doctor noticed I had huge bites of some sort in my groin region. Before I could even begin thinking about how that could have happened, he told me that the bites were from small ants. Outstanding! The hormiguitas are expanding their borders from the kitchen to my bedroom. Just last week, I woke up to them crawling all over my face. Good stuff. So with Dengue, you can’t really do anything about it. It’s just like a severe flu with more intense symptoms. The major thing you have to be careful about with Dengue is developing the most severe strain. About a week after symptoms, your white blood cell counts drops more than it already has and you are generally in the hospital for a while. I don’t know all the technical terms; you can look those up medical crowd. It’s called Hemorraghic Dengue Fever.
After the major symptoms die down, the full recovery takes a few weeks. I lost 15 pounds and felt pretty weak for a long time. Collective wisdom and some decent airfare lead me to participate in a weeklong recovery program at Kearney Hospital in Palos Heights, Illinois. I basically slept the whole week. The following weekend, I was lucky enough to make it to the Notre Dame vs. USC game in South Bend. I journeyed back to a scorching hot PR on Sunday.
I woke up at least 5 times during the evening. Sometimes I woke up with the same extreme chills, sometimes I woke up drenched in sweat. My entire bed was soaked with sweat. I felt too sick to move or do anything about it, so I laid there most of the night. I knew I had a high fever, but we didn’t have a thermometer. The next day I woke up with 3 more symptoms. 1) I had absolutely no appetite. 2) Every part of my body ached. It was the feeling of squatting in the weight room for the first time in a long time, except everywhere on my body. This made it hard to even walk. 3) The worst part by far was the extreme migraine. I had trouble looking at light. Then I had trouble moving my eyes around. If I looked up, my eyes had a sharp, shooting pain. I won’t go into how the situation of me not having insurance yet or expound on the way my sickness was handled, but I went on this way for another 2-3 days. We finally got a thermometer after I was feeling somewhat better and my temperature keep floating between 101.5 and 102. I couldn’t believe how much better I felt compared to the first few days and my temperature was 102. What was my temperature that first night? 104?
Eventually, I broke into an unbelievable rash all over my body. Up until this point a doctor and many others decided I had the flu. The rash, though, is a Dengue Fever hallmark. I finally got to a doctor and got some blood work done. I had Dengue Fever. On a side note, the doctor noticed I had huge bites of some sort in my groin region. Before I could even begin thinking about how that could have happened, he told me that the bites were from small ants. Outstanding! The hormiguitas are expanding their borders from the kitchen to my bedroom. Just last week, I woke up to them crawling all over my face. Good stuff. So with Dengue, you can’t really do anything about it. It’s just like a severe flu with more intense symptoms. The major thing you have to be careful about with Dengue is developing the most severe strain. About a week after symptoms, your white blood cell counts drops more than it already has and you are generally in the hospital for a while. I don’t know all the technical terms; you can look those up medical crowd. It’s called Hemorraghic Dengue Fever.
After the major symptoms die down, the full recovery takes a few weeks. I lost 15 pounds and felt pretty weak for a long time. Collective wisdom and some decent airfare lead me to participate in a weeklong recovery program at Kearney Hospital in Palos Heights, Illinois. I basically slept the whole week. The following weekend, I was lucky enough to make it to the Notre Dame vs. USC game in South Bend. I journeyed back to a scorching hot PR on Sunday.
Friday, October 23, 2009
It's Not Everyday An Oil Refinery Explodes by Your Apartment
VIDEOS, VIDEOS, VIDEOS! The title explains it all. Check the news to get more updates. As I am typing this, I am looking out my window at flames and a massive plume of smoke. Look at my WEB ALBUMS (link on the right side of the page) to see ample pictures and videos. Also, there are pictures and videos of the mini-ants that own my kitchen.... and now my bedroom.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Andrea's Visit
Andrea came to visit in the last weekend of September. She arrived early Thursday afternoon and departed Sunday evening. We were lucky she was able to take her class off on Thursday and get her work for Friday done early. Although the visit was short, somehow we packed in everything worth doing into those four days. I can’t believe how much she got to experience, which were typical experiences for me. Andrea really got a good feeling for how we live and what we do on a daily basis.
After her arrival on Thursday, unfortunately, we had to go to the office for a few hours. We had a full van because Stephen’s girlfriend, Traci, was visiting as well. Andrea soon realized how unorganized our work is and how we eventually get something done. Later that evening we had a meeting in Cantera where we were developing our business plan for the new ecotourism business, so we had to create the material to discuss for the meeting. Traci and Andrea got to alleviate the boredom with a scorching walk down the street to our favorite local café and eatery, Yanni’s. We left early for the meeting so we could show the girls around the lovely neighborhood of Cantera. Without surprise, a stray horse stumbled in front of our community tour. Andrea has ample photos of the encounter. The meeting went as it does normally: some people didn’t show up, some participated, some participated heatedly, and some didn’t participate at all. Así es la vida. After the meeting, Sylvia was kind enough to take us to our favorite restaurant, an Argentine steakhouse called Deli. It was a jam-packed day, so we decided to call it a night there since we had to get up early the next day.
On Friday, we only had one business matter to take care of at Centro Buen Pastor. Two representatives from the Boy Scouts of America came to Buen Pastor to have a meeting with us, Fernando, Sylvia, and the nuns regarding Buen Pastor possibly becoming one of the main campgrounds/home bases for the Boy Scouts in this part of the island. This would not only be a huge boost to the Centro, but it would bring in funding for further development and events for Proyecto Siempre Verde. The representatives gave us a good idea of their requirements for certain achievement levels and formal events. They seemed very enthusiastic about partnering with us, but they had some qualms about requirement fulfillment, which we are addressing in a formal proposal. More importantly, Traci and Andrea got to meet Fernando, our Puerto Rican father and idol.
We had the rest of the day off to show the girls a good time. Without hesitation, we drove to our favorite beach spot in Luquillo. The weather was perfect and the waters were calm. We swam, tossed the frisbee, had a few drinks, and I even caught a starfish. We decided to explore nearby Fajardo for a possible dinner location, but this port town left us hanging. It’s not as big and developed as we thought. We wound up hitting up a small pizza joint on the side of the road on the way back to San Juan. Although this day was also quite busy, the couples couldn’t pass up the opportunity to stop by La Placita. The atmosphere, as always, was amazing, but, as always, we ran into the same ol’ problem, we don’t know anyone and are left to observing. At least the girls got to see the Santurce nightlife and have a glass of the strongest rum and Coke possible.
The next day, Juan Albors, a member of the PRCSC board, trustee of the Oriental Financial Group, and Harvard grad, graciously invited us to his beach home in the county of Dorado, just west of San Juan. It turns out that Juan lives an exclusive coastal community with an amazing private beach, pool, and grill club. On the drive to the beach from his home, he pointed out that he lives two houses from Ricky Martin. The beach club was unreal. Everyone was extremely accommodating: towels, beach chairs, drinks, etc. Not to mention, the beach had a natural rock formation that created a pool of ocean water baked by the sun, perfect for casual water lounging and snorkeling amongst the tropical fish. Juan even put us on his tab for the day. What great timing with the girls being in for the weekend. The day was very relaxing.
We left in the early evening because Stephen and Traci were meeting up with some islander friends in Ponce for the night. Andrea and I went to a Chili’s in a mall plaza near the apartment for a belated birthday dinner funded by the parents. Chili’s was the optimal locale for dinner since their 1000+ channels and multiple flat screen televisions at the bar almost guaranteed a comfortable viewing of the evening Notre Dame vs. Purdue annual football competition. The bartender advised us that the game would be on soon and that we were all set. Once game time rolled around, ESPN got switched to the women’s volleyball tournament game of Puerto Rico vs. the Dominican Republic. In all seriousness, women’s volleyball is the most popular sport on the island. Much to our dismay, we had to scarf down our food so we could head to Shannan’s for the rest of the game. Now we have been to Shannan’s multiple times for games, but never at night. It seems this “Irish pub” turns into a nightclub as the day grows old. We had to pay a cover and we soon realized that we were a little underdressed (Puerto Ricans pride themselves in their sense of fashion and style). Oh well. After weaving through the gyrating throngs of hipsters, we happened upon a lonely television at the bar showing the game. The rest of the televisions were showing the volleyball game. We ordered $4 dollar Medalla Lights (PR’s Keystone) to feel like we fit in and survived multiple heart attacks until our nerves were settled with a Jimmy Clausen bullet to Kyle Rudolph in the endzone. We headed back to the apartment elated with the result and content with a successful day.
Sunday morning, Andrea and I attended an early mass at the local parish chapel. We were planning on going to the local beach Playa Escambrón, but our collective decision was that we had our fill of the beach the past two days and that our remaining time would be better served strolling the historic and exciting streets of Old San Juan. We took the short drive to the peninsula, parked, and embarked on our merry way. Old San Juan is a peninsula where the original colony of Spaniards, mixed with slaves and indigenous people, first came to live together. Essentially, Old San Juan is about 15 blocks by 10 blocks of cobblestone streets and hills resembling those of San Francisco. The apartments, bars, shops, and buildings are every color of the rainbow. The weather was absolutely beautiful. The temperature was in the 90’s, but combined with intermittent clouds, a refreshing ocean breeze, and bountiful shade from the plethora of shady parks, the climate could not have been better for our jolly Sunday stroll. The atmosphere in Old San Juan is very uplifting. We walked through the middle of the town and then clockwise from the port on the south end to El Morro on the Northside. El Morro is the oldest fort in the Western Hemisphere. It was established by Juan Ponce de León some years before he set off to Florida to search for the fountain of youth. Ironic were his objectives given that we now know Florida is the opposite of the fountain of youth. I would call it the fountain of comfortable aging. El Morro is a large, sturdy, seaside fort complete with multiple bastions for firing canons at invading pirates and plunderers. Sadly, the dream weekend had to come to an end and I had to take Andrea to the airport in the early evening. All in all, I had a wonderful four days with Andrea and the rest of the crew. It was a welcome break from our sometimes monotonous daily routine.
After her arrival on Thursday, unfortunately, we had to go to the office for a few hours. We had a full van because Stephen’s girlfriend, Traci, was visiting as well. Andrea soon realized how unorganized our work is and how we eventually get something done. Later that evening we had a meeting in Cantera where we were developing our business plan for the new ecotourism business, so we had to create the material to discuss for the meeting. Traci and Andrea got to alleviate the boredom with a scorching walk down the street to our favorite local café and eatery, Yanni’s. We left early for the meeting so we could show the girls around the lovely neighborhood of Cantera. Without surprise, a stray horse stumbled in front of our community tour. Andrea has ample photos of the encounter. The meeting went as it does normally: some people didn’t show up, some participated, some participated heatedly, and some didn’t participate at all. Así es la vida. After the meeting, Sylvia was kind enough to take us to our favorite restaurant, an Argentine steakhouse called Deli. It was a jam-packed day, so we decided to call it a night there since we had to get up early the next day.
On Friday, we only had one business matter to take care of at Centro Buen Pastor. Two representatives from the Boy Scouts of America came to Buen Pastor to have a meeting with us, Fernando, Sylvia, and the nuns regarding Buen Pastor possibly becoming one of the main campgrounds/home bases for the Boy Scouts in this part of the island. This would not only be a huge boost to the Centro, but it would bring in funding for further development and events for Proyecto Siempre Verde. The representatives gave us a good idea of their requirements for certain achievement levels and formal events. They seemed very enthusiastic about partnering with us, but they had some qualms about requirement fulfillment, which we are addressing in a formal proposal. More importantly, Traci and Andrea got to meet Fernando, our Puerto Rican father and idol.
We had the rest of the day off to show the girls a good time. Without hesitation, we drove to our favorite beach spot in Luquillo. The weather was perfect and the waters were calm. We swam, tossed the frisbee, had a few drinks, and I even caught a starfish. We decided to explore nearby Fajardo for a possible dinner location, but this port town left us hanging. It’s not as big and developed as we thought. We wound up hitting up a small pizza joint on the side of the road on the way back to San Juan. Although this day was also quite busy, the couples couldn’t pass up the opportunity to stop by La Placita. The atmosphere, as always, was amazing, but, as always, we ran into the same ol’ problem, we don’t know anyone and are left to observing. At least the girls got to see the Santurce nightlife and have a glass of the strongest rum and Coke possible.
The next day, Juan Albors, a member of the PRCSC board, trustee of the Oriental Financial Group, and Harvard grad, graciously invited us to his beach home in the county of Dorado, just west of San Juan. It turns out that Juan lives an exclusive coastal community with an amazing private beach, pool, and grill club. On the drive to the beach from his home, he pointed out that he lives two houses from Ricky Martin. The beach club was unreal. Everyone was extremely accommodating: towels, beach chairs, drinks, etc. Not to mention, the beach had a natural rock formation that created a pool of ocean water baked by the sun, perfect for casual water lounging and snorkeling amongst the tropical fish. Juan even put us on his tab for the day. What great timing with the girls being in for the weekend. The day was very relaxing.
We left in the early evening because Stephen and Traci were meeting up with some islander friends in Ponce for the night. Andrea and I went to a Chili’s in a mall plaza near the apartment for a belated birthday dinner funded by the parents. Chili’s was the optimal locale for dinner since their 1000+ channels and multiple flat screen televisions at the bar almost guaranteed a comfortable viewing of the evening Notre Dame vs. Purdue annual football competition. The bartender advised us that the game would be on soon and that we were all set. Once game time rolled around, ESPN got switched to the women’s volleyball tournament game of Puerto Rico vs. the Dominican Republic. In all seriousness, women’s volleyball is the most popular sport on the island. Much to our dismay, we had to scarf down our food so we could head to Shannan’s for the rest of the game. Now we have been to Shannan’s multiple times for games, but never at night. It seems this “Irish pub” turns into a nightclub as the day grows old. We had to pay a cover and we soon realized that we were a little underdressed (Puerto Ricans pride themselves in their sense of fashion and style). Oh well. After weaving through the gyrating throngs of hipsters, we happened upon a lonely television at the bar showing the game. The rest of the televisions were showing the volleyball game. We ordered $4 dollar Medalla Lights (PR’s Keystone) to feel like we fit in and survived multiple heart attacks until our nerves were settled with a Jimmy Clausen bullet to Kyle Rudolph in the endzone. We headed back to the apartment elated with the result and content with a successful day.
Sunday morning, Andrea and I attended an early mass at the local parish chapel. We were planning on going to the local beach Playa Escambrón, but our collective decision was that we had our fill of the beach the past two days and that our remaining time would be better served strolling the historic and exciting streets of Old San Juan. We took the short drive to the peninsula, parked, and embarked on our merry way. Old San Juan is a peninsula where the original colony of Spaniards, mixed with slaves and indigenous people, first came to live together. Essentially, Old San Juan is about 15 blocks by 10 blocks of cobblestone streets and hills resembling those of San Francisco. The apartments, bars, shops, and buildings are every color of the rainbow. The weather was absolutely beautiful. The temperature was in the 90’s, but combined with intermittent clouds, a refreshing ocean breeze, and bountiful shade from the plethora of shady parks, the climate could not have been better for our jolly Sunday stroll. The atmosphere in Old San Juan is very uplifting. We walked through the middle of the town and then clockwise from the port on the south end to El Morro on the Northside. El Morro is the oldest fort in the Western Hemisphere. It was established by Juan Ponce de León some years before he set off to Florida to search for the fountain of youth. Ironic were his objectives given that we now know Florida is the opposite of the fountain of youth. I would call it the fountain of comfortable aging. El Morro is a large, sturdy, seaside fort complete with multiple bastions for firing canons at invading pirates and plunderers. Sadly, the dream weekend had to come to an end and I had to take Andrea to the airport in the early evening. All in all, I had a wonderful four days with Andrea and the rest of the crew. It was a welcome break from our sometimes monotonous daily routine.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Posting Hiatus
I must apologize for not posting for some time now. As many of you may already know, the past 2-3 weeks for me hasn't been ideal. I hope to have a post up by the end of the week. It will include:
-the weekend of Andrea's visit
-the week of Dengue fever and all its joys
-the week back home recovering
-the status back in PR
-the weekend of Andrea's visit
-the week of Dengue fever and all its joys
-the week back home recovering
-the status back in PR
Monday, September 28, 2009
Check It Out
I'll get to writing about the past week pretty soon, but until then, check out my web albums for some awesome pictures from Andrea's visit.
Also, I'm beyond curious to find out who is reading my blog. I know more people read the blog than just the "followers." Well, at least I hope more people do! Anyways, please send me an e-mail saying what's up so I know who my audience is; I'd love to know and hear from you all.
Also, I'm beyond curious to find out who is reading my blog. I know more people read the blog than just the "followers." Well, at least I hope more people do! Anyways, please send me an e-mail saying what's up so I know who my audience is; I'd love to know and hear from you all.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Grant Writing With a Splash of Champagne
My blog took a serious hit in the "exciting" category this week, for which I sincerely apologize. We thought we were going to get in some more machete work on the trails, but alas, the good sisters at Buen Pastor decided we should begin working on a grant application from the Walmart Foundation for Proyecto Siempre Verde. The grant was due at midnight on Friday. They sprang this on us on Tuesday. So that's what I did all week. Please try to stay seated, I know this can be a lot to handle in one sitting.
On a brighter note, last Sunday we went to mass in Old San Juan at a very old basilica. The mass somehow infused Roman Catholicism with African tribal dancing customs. PS, there are a lot of African-Americans here because they were the first slaves to be brought to the New World. At the time, the sugar cane industry in Puerto Rico dominated the trading block, so Puerto Rico set up numerous sugar cane plantations around the island that needed labor. Centuries later, it is common for a Puerto Rican to have Spanish, native Taíno, and AFrican-American roots..quite the combo. The mass had tribal instruments and everything, very interesting. Afterwards, we walked around Old San Juan checking out little mom n' pop stores. Twas' a good afternoon, indeed.
We decided to go to a hotel bar in Condado to catch the Bears/Packers game Sunday night. After a gut-wrenching Notre Dame loss to Michigan the day before, the only thing that helped me stomach the Bears loss was a simple act of extreme generosity. First off, we quickly realized that we were completely out of place at this swank hotel bar. Indicators of such include the trendy furniture, classy tunes, dress code, and $6 beers. Not many people were at the bar, so we got the game volume turned up. It was a chill evening. Around the middle of the 4th quarter, a man around our age saddled up to bar (barely), decked out in skater jeans and a skater shirt with a flat brim DC hat capping off the tattoos that ran vertically up his neck. Either this young squire recently deposited the contents of his wallet at the hotel casino or he simply turned a mellow fellow upon inebriation. (Sorry, sometimes I compose my stories like I'm writing the next column for the Gipper). Tony Hawk clearly needed to drown his sorrows, so he decideth the agent be champagne. The following conversation was betwixt the waiter and the skater. "That bottle will be $216 dollars." "Oh, okay, sounds good." "Are you sure." "Yes, I'm sure." (moments pass while we try to hide our bewilderment). "Hey (to us), do you guys want some champagne." "Uhhhh yea man, sure." (to the waiter) "Get these guys some glasses and make sure they finish the bottle." Let me tell you, this champagne was the sweet nectar of the gods. A mere glass forced us to stick around a little longer before we drove home. On multiple occasions, we tried to chat up our new friend. He mostly responded with one word answers, clearly not interested in pursuing the newfound friendship further. I finally asked, "Hey man, what's the occasion?" He responded calmly with a stone-faced glance, "Because it's f****ng delicious." Amen, brother, that's good enough for me. Just before departing, he tipped the waiter, whose interest was clearly piqued after recent events, $180 in pocket change. Our magnanimous, strapping benefactor hailed from the great town of Bloomington, Illinois. Who would've thunk it?
While this weekend lacked in such a glorious story, we did enjoy a Notre Dame win with a side of cardiac arrest at the lovely abode of our legitimate benefactor, José Rafael Fernández. José is the President of the PRCSC board as well as a proud Notre Dame alum. He graciously invited us to a gamewatch at his gorgeous home after hearing about the Michigan fans at Shannon's the previous week spilling beer and like items all over us in celebration. His home is so peaceful. Sitting on their leather couch and watching the game on his big screen was a welcome change. His wife, Marechy, is also a Puerto Rican, Notre Dame alum. They have two sons (13 and 15) and a freshman daughter at ND. I think it would ease my parents' mind if they knew how loving and truly concerned they are for the well-being of the volunteers. They have opened their doors to us whenever we are in need.
On a brighter note, last Sunday we went to mass in Old San Juan at a very old basilica. The mass somehow infused Roman Catholicism with African tribal dancing customs. PS, there are a lot of African-Americans here because they were the first slaves to be brought to the New World. At the time, the sugar cane industry in Puerto Rico dominated the trading block, so Puerto Rico set up numerous sugar cane plantations around the island that needed labor. Centuries later, it is common for a Puerto Rican to have Spanish, native Taíno, and AFrican-American roots..quite the combo. The mass had tribal instruments and everything, very interesting. Afterwards, we walked around Old San Juan checking out little mom n' pop stores. Twas' a good afternoon, indeed.
We decided to go to a hotel bar in Condado to catch the Bears/Packers game Sunday night. After a gut-wrenching Notre Dame loss to Michigan the day before, the only thing that helped me stomach the Bears loss was a simple act of extreme generosity. First off, we quickly realized that we were completely out of place at this swank hotel bar. Indicators of such include the trendy furniture, classy tunes, dress code, and $6 beers. Not many people were at the bar, so we got the game volume turned up. It was a chill evening. Around the middle of the 4th quarter, a man around our age saddled up to bar (barely), decked out in skater jeans and a skater shirt with a flat brim DC hat capping off the tattoos that ran vertically up his neck. Either this young squire recently deposited the contents of his wallet at the hotel casino or he simply turned a mellow fellow upon inebriation. (Sorry, sometimes I compose my stories like I'm writing the next column for the Gipper). Tony Hawk clearly needed to drown his sorrows, so he decideth the agent be champagne. The following conversation was betwixt the waiter and the skater. "That bottle will be $216 dollars." "Oh, okay, sounds good." "Are you sure." "Yes, I'm sure." (moments pass while we try to hide our bewilderment). "Hey (to us), do you guys want some champagne." "Uhhhh yea man, sure." (to the waiter) "Get these guys some glasses and make sure they finish the bottle." Let me tell you, this champagne was the sweet nectar of the gods. A mere glass forced us to stick around a little longer before we drove home. On multiple occasions, we tried to chat up our new friend. He mostly responded with one word answers, clearly not interested in pursuing the newfound friendship further. I finally asked, "Hey man, what's the occasion?" He responded calmly with a stone-faced glance, "Because it's f****ng delicious." Amen, brother, that's good enough for me. Just before departing, he tipped the waiter, whose interest was clearly piqued after recent events, $180 in pocket change. Our magnanimous, strapping benefactor hailed from the great town of Bloomington, Illinois. Who would've thunk it?
While this weekend lacked in such a glorious story, we did enjoy a Notre Dame win with a side of cardiac arrest at the lovely abode of our legitimate benefactor, José Rafael Fernández. José is the President of the PRCSC board as well as a proud Notre Dame alum. He graciously invited us to a gamewatch at his gorgeous home after hearing about the Michigan fans at Shannon's the previous week spilling beer and like items all over us in celebration. His home is so peaceful. Sitting on their leather couch and watching the game on his big screen was a welcome change. His wife, Marechy, is also a Puerto Rican, Notre Dame alum. They have two sons (13 and 15) and a freshman daughter at ND. I think it would ease my parents' mind if they knew how loving and truly concerned they are for the well-being of the volunteers. They have opened their doors to us whenever we are in need.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Web Albums
New photos in my Picasa web albums! We went to Old San Juan for mass Sunday morning, then walked around during the afternoon.
Friday, September 11, 2009
CSI (Car Swerving Incident)
Here's my play by play of the last 2 minutes of our rear, driver's side tire.
Ponce
So today we drove to Ponce with Sylvia and Miguel, a coordinator from Cantera. Ponce is the second biggest city in Puerto Rico and is on the southern end of the island. The purpose of the trip was to go look at some fishing boats to purchase for our ecotourism project in Cantera. Basically, it didn't make sense for Dan, Stephen, and I to tag along since we don't know the first thing about boats. But, according to Sylvia, it was a good learning experience for us, despite the fact that Sister Nancy really needed our help at Buen Pastor. Oh well. The drive was beautiful. I drove on the way there and Miguel drove on the way back. We made some solid progress in selecting a boat.
Afterwards, we ate at a little fast food restaurant. What happened there was exactly what has been happening since I arrived in Puerto Rico. So pardon me while I burst (Incubus quote for the unenlightened). I ordered in Spanish. The cashier responded to me in English. This always happens. I continued to order and speak further in Spanish and she continued to respond in English. I'm trying to improve my Spanish and this scene does not help me one bit. She kept repeating disdainfully what I had ordered in Spanish, but in English. I was pretty angry so I had to finish ordering and step away.
When we were driving back, the van started swerving. The roads weren't in stellar condition, but the swerving was beyond the cause of the road. Miguel didn't seem to be the best driver, possibly due to the fact that he can't sit still for longer than 5 minutes. We decided to pull over on the side of the road to check the tires. The back, driver's side wheel was flat. We continued on slowly until the next exit. As we were pulling off the highway on the off-ramp, the tire started to slip off the frame. We began to hear and feel the "clunk, clunk, clunk" as we pulled into the grass/gravel. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, we were almost riding on the frame. (See my web albums link in the upper right hand corner of the blog for picture documentation)
Okay, the tire was completely torn, but that wasn't not that big of a deal since we needed some new tires anyway. We get the jack and spare tire out. Then, we couldn't find the wrench. Outstanding. Miguel's ADHD kicked in and he decided to start walking to the nearest place where he could buy a wrench. Sylvia called a friend who lived nearby to bring a wrench. In the meantime, a mechanic truck stopped to help us out. We took advantage of his help and he changed our tire for 20 bucks. We rode back to the PRCSC office on the spare tire. The other tires were low, too. This was unusual since we just put air in the tires not too long ago. So we dropped Sylvia off, filled the tires with air, and began to drive around Cantera (ghetto) with Miguel to find a place that sold tires. Well, the third time was a charm. We finally found a place and they happened to have the same make and model tire that we needed. Now we can't figure out what Miguel thinks of us, since he doesn't turn down an opportunity to make fun of our Spanish or existence in Puerto Rico in general, but we get him to laugh often, so we think he is coming around. He advised us to stay hidden in the car while he asked about tires, because if the mechanics saw gringos, they would assume we have a lot of money and would charge us more for the tire. Well, we eventually had to get out of the car to change the tire, so of course, we were overcharged. By about 60 bucks. We were just happy to get out of there. Finally, the workday was over.
Afterwards, we ate at a little fast food restaurant. What happened there was exactly what has been happening since I arrived in Puerto Rico. So pardon me while I burst (Incubus quote for the unenlightened). I ordered in Spanish. The cashier responded to me in English. This always happens. I continued to order and speak further in Spanish and she continued to respond in English. I'm trying to improve my Spanish and this scene does not help me one bit. She kept repeating disdainfully what I had ordered in Spanish, but in English. I was pretty angry so I had to finish ordering and step away.
When we were driving back, the van started swerving. The roads weren't in stellar condition, but the swerving was beyond the cause of the road. Miguel didn't seem to be the best driver, possibly due to the fact that he can't sit still for longer than 5 minutes. We decided to pull over on the side of the road to check the tires. The back, driver's side wheel was flat. We continued on slowly until the next exit. As we were pulling off the highway on the off-ramp, the tire started to slip off the frame. We began to hear and feel the "clunk, clunk, clunk" as we pulled into the grass/gravel. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, we were almost riding on the frame. (See my web albums link in the upper right hand corner of the blog for picture documentation)
Okay, the tire was completely torn, but that wasn't not that big of a deal since we needed some new tires anyway. We get the jack and spare tire out. Then, we couldn't find the wrench. Outstanding. Miguel's ADHD kicked in and he decided to start walking to the nearest place where he could buy a wrench. Sylvia called a friend who lived nearby to bring a wrench. In the meantime, a mechanic truck stopped to help us out. We took advantage of his help and he changed our tire for 20 bucks. We rode back to the PRCSC office on the spare tire. The other tires were low, too. This was unusual since we just put air in the tires not too long ago. So we dropped Sylvia off, filled the tires with air, and began to drive around Cantera (ghetto) with Miguel to find a place that sold tires. Well, the third time was a charm. We finally found a place and they happened to have the same make and model tire that we needed. Now we can't figure out what Miguel thinks of us, since he doesn't turn down an opportunity to make fun of our Spanish or existence in Puerto Rico in general, but we get him to laugh often, so we think he is coming around. He advised us to stay hidden in the car while he asked about tires, because if the mechanics saw gringos, they would assume we have a lot of money and would charge us more for the tire. Well, we eventually had to get out of the car to change the tire, so of course, we were overcharged. By about 60 bucks. We were just happy to get out of there. Finally, the workday was over.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Web Albums
I finally figured out more about Picasa and was able to figure out why my albums weren't being shared publicly on the web. I feel like Derek Zoolander with all this new technology. Anyways, check out the link in the upper right hand corner of my blog and you should be able to see some quality pictures.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Please Say A Prayer
This morning, my friend Jim passed away in his sleep. We are still waiting for the reports on the cause of death. Jim Griffin was an outstanding individual. I have very vivid memories of him. In high school, the all guys atmosphere seemed to make everyone constantly try to prove how tough they were to each other, regardless of at whose expense it came. Jim Griffin, on the other hand, just wanted to be everyone's friend. It didn't matter if he was a basketball superstar or not, he was friends with all walks of life. Wherever Jim was at, he was smiling. I'll never forget his smile. It would make me feel so much better if I knew that everyone that looked at my blog said at least one prayer for Jim and for Jim's family. Thank you everyone. Please Pray. RIP Griff.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Cantera
I’ve been dreading writing about our other environmental project, Cantera. In lieu of a confusing post and due to our utter lack of comprehension about our roles and what exactly we will be doing there, I will give you a synopsis of the history of the area as well as provide you with some funny anecdotes. When I can explain the project in 3 concise paragraphs or less, I will do so.
Cantera means “quarry” in Spanish. It will not show up on a map, but if you Google map Laguna San Jose (which is just east of San Juan), you can see that Cantera is the small peninsula that juts out into the Laguna on the west side and acts as the divider of Laguna San Jose and Laguna Los Corozas. In the early 1900’s, many people migrated there because of the excellent location and job opportunities in the quarry. Life at the quarry was good until the limestone ran out. This area quickly became overcrowded slums as their livelihood had dried up. The mosquitoes and cockroaches thriving in the lagoon severely oppressed the residents. What makes Cantera unique is its relationship with trash. People used trash as a foundation for new land as the unbearable conditions caused people to expand the land. Trash has now almost completely clogged the canal between the Bay of San Juan and the Lagoon. Likewise, to this day, people still throw their trash in the lagoon due to the lack of sewage and garbage systems. Adding to the trash in the lagoon is the constant rain runoff, chock full of fecal matter and pesticides. As you can imagine, this is all having a major negative impact on the ecosystem. I asked a lady why people throw trash in the lagoon so often and she responded, “Because garbage trucks don’t come everyday.” I was confused. People here expect the trash to be picked up every single day. I told her that the garbage trucks only come once a week where I live and she was blown away.
So the other week we went through some Cantera orientation meetings. We also took a boat tour of the lagoon and canals. A well-respected oceanographer graced the team with a visit and accompanied us on the tour. He took multiple water samples and made many key observations. The blockage of the canal between the Bay and the Lagoon has caused a sharp decrease in the salinity of the Lagoon. Granted, the Lagoon eventually turns into a river that empties into the ocean by Ocean Park, but that is far from the actual Lagoon. Normal ocean salinity is 35 ppm and the Lagoon is now 7 ppm. This is killing barnacles and presumably many other fish and wildlife. The extensive mangrove swamps are also being threatened. There was a small island in the lagoon near Cantera that is now a peninsula because the water in between the island and shore became packed in with garbage. Some of us explored this former island. The base of the island was absolutely disgusting. So much trash had washed up on the shore. Everywhere I stepped was garbage. Milk carton, Barbie doll, plastic bag…
Here comes the long-awaited comic relief of the post--- The community of Cantera is divided into two parts: the original town, which is still pretty much slums, and then housing projects. Don’t you want to visit? One of the guys who works at the Cantera community center gave us a lecture on Cantera history. His nickname is Chago and he has lived in Cantera almost his entire life. He’s about 70 and looks like Che Guevarra if Che lived to see 70 (beret, beard, etc). Chago informed us after the lecture that he was going to walk through the community with us, making stops at all the major drug corners. I know, let me explain. If a white man were to stroll into, say, the Mexican community in Chicago and walk around like it’s no big deal, well those Mexicans might not particularly enjoy the white man’s leisurely stroll because that is their little community in the middle of white America. Understandable. Now think about Puerto Rico and more specifically, places like Cantera. The people of Cantera see 3 white guys strolling through their community and they immediately think—there is no way these kids would be here, of all places, unless they were volunteers. Since there is such a deep-rooted loyalty to Cantera, even from the drug gangs, these 3 white kids not only become accepted, but protected. Effing crazy, right? So we were walking through the ghetto with Chago and we first stopped at this little shack on the side of the street where we got a huge, delicious sandwich for 2 dollars. We continued on. School had just let out. Everyone in the entire place was looking at us. It seemed like everyone was digesting that volunteer philosophy I just explained. We could feel everyone’s eyes on us. In particular, a group of grade school girls was staring us down while we were eating. They had an extremely disgusted look on their faces as they shot laser beams at us with their eyes. At first, I felt extremely uncomfortable. I quickly realized, though, the least expected reaction out of me would also be the most hilarious, at least for me, personally. I stared back at the girl with an even more disgusted look on my face. Yahtzee! The girl looked so confused. I win. The rest of the trip consisted of Chago (who knows everyone) introducing us to a bunch of gang members and drug runners. I felt like I was in the movie Training Day. Chago even informed us that one guy in the center we will be working side by side with used to be a hitman for a gang. Apparently the itch to get involved in environmental development got the best of him. Being a hitman is a springboard job, anways…
The other interesting story is about urban wildlife. The previously mentioned housing projects look exactly like how you would imagine them. As we chowed down on those sandwiches from the shack, we noticed that there were iguanas, roosters, and chickens freely strolling the streets and yards of the housing projects. This was to be expected. What wasn’t expected was seeing large horses freely strolling the community. One man informed us that he had 5 horses “running” around his project backyard. To cap it all off, as we were driving home on the one road out of the peninsula, there were 2 wild horses in the street. What a day.
From what we understand, our objectives in Cantera are to mobilize the community, initiate some sort of trash cleanup projects, and plan the economic aspect of the proposed wildlife boat tours through the lagoon/canal system. If I were to try to say more, I would confuse not only my readers, but myself.
Cantera means “quarry” in Spanish. It will not show up on a map, but if you Google map Laguna San Jose (which is just east of San Juan), you can see that Cantera is the small peninsula that juts out into the Laguna on the west side and acts as the divider of Laguna San Jose and Laguna Los Corozas. In the early 1900’s, many people migrated there because of the excellent location and job opportunities in the quarry. Life at the quarry was good until the limestone ran out. This area quickly became overcrowded slums as their livelihood had dried up. The mosquitoes and cockroaches thriving in the lagoon severely oppressed the residents. What makes Cantera unique is its relationship with trash. People used trash as a foundation for new land as the unbearable conditions caused people to expand the land. Trash has now almost completely clogged the canal between the Bay of San Juan and the Lagoon. Likewise, to this day, people still throw their trash in the lagoon due to the lack of sewage and garbage systems. Adding to the trash in the lagoon is the constant rain runoff, chock full of fecal matter and pesticides. As you can imagine, this is all having a major negative impact on the ecosystem. I asked a lady why people throw trash in the lagoon so often and she responded, “Because garbage trucks don’t come everyday.” I was confused. People here expect the trash to be picked up every single day. I told her that the garbage trucks only come once a week where I live and she was blown away.
So the other week we went through some Cantera orientation meetings. We also took a boat tour of the lagoon and canals. A well-respected oceanographer graced the team with a visit and accompanied us on the tour. He took multiple water samples and made many key observations. The blockage of the canal between the Bay and the Lagoon has caused a sharp decrease in the salinity of the Lagoon. Granted, the Lagoon eventually turns into a river that empties into the ocean by Ocean Park, but that is far from the actual Lagoon. Normal ocean salinity is 35 ppm and the Lagoon is now 7 ppm. This is killing barnacles and presumably many other fish and wildlife. The extensive mangrove swamps are also being threatened. There was a small island in the lagoon near Cantera that is now a peninsula because the water in between the island and shore became packed in with garbage. Some of us explored this former island. The base of the island was absolutely disgusting. So much trash had washed up on the shore. Everywhere I stepped was garbage. Milk carton, Barbie doll, plastic bag…
Here comes the long-awaited comic relief of the post--- The community of Cantera is divided into two parts: the original town, which is still pretty much slums, and then housing projects. Don’t you want to visit? One of the guys who works at the Cantera community center gave us a lecture on Cantera history. His nickname is Chago and he has lived in Cantera almost his entire life. He’s about 70 and looks like Che Guevarra if Che lived to see 70 (beret, beard, etc). Chago informed us after the lecture that he was going to walk through the community with us, making stops at all the major drug corners. I know, let me explain. If a white man were to stroll into, say, the Mexican community in Chicago and walk around like it’s no big deal, well those Mexicans might not particularly enjoy the white man’s leisurely stroll because that is their little community in the middle of white America. Understandable. Now think about Puerto Rico and more specifically, places like Cantera. The people of Cantera see 3 white guys strolling through their community and they immediately think—there is no way these kids would be here, of all places, unless they were volunteers. Since there is such a deep-rooted loyalty to Cantera, even from the drug gangs, these 3 white kids not only become accepted, but protected. Effing crazy, right? So we were walking through the ghetto with Chago and we first stopped at this little shack on the side of the street where we got a huge, delicious sandwich for 2 dollars. We continued on. School had just let out. Everyone in the entire place was looking at us. It seemed like everyone was digesting that volunteer philosophy I just explained. We could feel everyone’s eyes on us. In particular, a group of grade school girls was staring us down while we were eating. They had an extremely disgusted look on their faces as they shot laser beams at us with their eyes. At first, I felt extremely uncomfortable. I quickly realized, though, the least expected reaction out of me would also be the most hilarious, at least for me, personally. I stared back at the girl with an even more disgusted look on my face. Yahtzee! The girl looked so confused. I win. The rest of the trip consisted of Chago (who knows everyone) introducing us to a bunch of gang members and drug runners. I felt like I was in the movie Training Day. Chago even informed us that one guy in the center we will be working side by side with used to be a hitman for a gang. Apparently the itch to get involved in environmental development got the best of him. Being a hitman is a springboard job, anways…
The other interesting story is about urban wildlife. The previously mentioned housing projects look exactly like how you would imagine them. As we chowed down on those sandwiches from the shack, we noticed that there were iguanas, roosters, and chickens freely strolling the streets and yards of the housing projects. This was to be expected. What wasn’t expected was seeing large horses freely strolling the community. One man informed us that he had 5 horses “running” around his project backyard. To cap it all off, as we were driving home on the one road out of the peninsula, there were 2 wild horses in the street. What a day.
From what we understand, our objectives in Cantera are to mobilize the community, initiate some sort of trash cleanup projects, and plan the economic aspect of the proposed wildlife boat tours through the lagoon/canal system. If I were to try to say more, I would confuse not only my readers, but myself.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Episode 1
As promised, here is the first episode of the highly anticipated series, "Illegal in the U.S., Fun in P.R."
Saturday, August 29, 2009
The Calle Las Palmas Bum
So after a hard day of work, Dan, Stephen and I returned to the Santurce apartment to find a homeless man chest-deep in our dumpster. FYI, homeless guys strolling Calle Las Palmas is not out of the ordinary. This one in particular sets up shop in the median of the street during the day. Although he always seems cracked out, he’s pretty harmless. As we pulled into our parking spot early that evening with our rims still spinning (not really), we noticed the unprecedented amount of garbage tossed out of the dumpster, powerless to the whims of the ocean breeze. Half the garbage that was previously in the dumpster was now on the street. We decided not to get involved. After an hour or so, I decided to look at the bum’s progress from the 3rd floor terrace. I expected something like post-tornado wreckage, but what I saw blew me away (pun intended). Everything that he decided to keep from the dumpster was neatly packed into cardboard boxes, as if he were putting away dominoes. Not only was the rest of the garbage picked up, but the bum went above and beyond returning what he displaced and picked up everything in the surrounding area. He was the neatest bum I’ve ever encountered. Either he was so hopped up on the rocks that he felt the need to clean everything or he was really smart and picked up all the evidence of his illegal foraging. In conclusion, this was either an exceptional hobo or crack is good for you.
Stay tuned for the premiere of our upcoming video series titled, “Illegal in the U.S., fun in P.R.” Essentially, the crew will gallivant about town while partaking in activities illegal in the States, but commonplace here on the Isle of Enchantment (Most of these will be traffic violations).
Stay tuned for the premiere of our upcoming video series titled, “Illegal in the U.S., fun in P.R.” Essentially, the crew will gallivant about town while partaking in activities illegal in the States, but commonplace here on the Isle of Enchantment (Most of these will be traffic violations).
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
First Post...Segunda Parte
As previously mentioned, Stephen, Dan, and I work at the Centro Buen Pastor en Caguas. Caguas is a 20-25 minute drive south of San Juan into more of a foothills terrain. The center is run by a group of Salesian nuns. This group of nuns laid claim to this beautiful 18-acre plot of land at the beginning of the 20th century. The land around the Centro consists of a few farming plots, but mostly a hilly rain forest. Technically, this area is between Caguas and Guaynabo, two fairly large towns. The area in between has developed into a low-income community called La Loma. The community is plagued by an overwhelming amount of problems: a terrible economy, widespread drug use among its citizens, violence, lack of government funding, lack of public services, and an overwhelming sense of apathy towards self-betterment by the people who could possibly make a difference. The Centro Buen Pastor is a mixture of a convent, a community center, and retreat center. The nuns reached out to the town and to various contacts in San Juan to help them best use the land and their will power to support the community. The aggregate result over many years is a tightly knit group of leaders and stakeholders in the Centro, coming from all parts of San Juan with a variety of skills.
Over the past few years, a collective effort titled Proyecto Siempre Verde (Project Always Green) developed steadily. The idea of the project is to make the rain forest more of an ecotourism attraction. In doing so, the hope is that the community will have an avenue of potential unity, the project will bring in revenue, and that the revenue will create self-sustaining jobs for La Loma members (tour guides, maintenance, management, etc). The nuns truly believe in the powers of eco-therapy and the spirituality inherent in nature. A lot has to happen before any of this is realized, though. We are in the midst of developing trails through the forest. There is much to see and learn while in the forest and this is precisely what the project is trying to capitalize on. Puerto Rico’s formation is unique to the Caribbean. A mixture of lava, tectonic plates, and sea vegetation deposits resulted in PR having thousands of endemic species of plants and animals. The man that knows everything about all these species and about everything in general is Fernando Silva. Essentially, he is in charge of Proyecto Siempre Verde. He is also a cross between Bill Murray and Jean Reno. The man is amazing, I can’t say enough about him. He is a professor at one of the larger universities here in PR and he also is the founder of the environmental agency INCICO. Fernando speaks and people listen. He speaks clearly and extremely slow, as if everything he is teaching you is the secret to a happy life. I love it. He also routinely and nonchalantly catches lizards, snakes, and other animals with his bare hands.
Anyways, over the past year or so, Fernando has carefully selected and trained high school and college-aged students from La Loma to become tour guides once the trail preparation is completed. This past weekend, the tour guides and us voluntarios stayed overnight at the Centro. This weekend was a trial run for the tour guides, but it also was a chance for us to get to know them better and to learn what they have been learning. This proved to be extremely difficult. I understand 100% of everything that people like Sylvia, Fernando, and Sister Nancy say, but the youth seem to have a different language. They speak unbelievably fast and don’t pronounce all of their syllables. For instance, they don’t pronounce “r” or “s” at the end of words. For someone still trying to learn more and more Spanish, a missing “r” or “s” is devastating to comprehension and the learning process. We definitely experienced some resentment from the group, but overall, everyone seemed to get along.
Recently, and after incessant grant proposals, the Centro Buen Pastor has received a decent amount of funding from various organizations. This funding will go towards the development of Proyecto Siempre Verde. For instance, parts of the trail need stone steps, some areas need bridges over the creek, and certain points would benefit greatly from established lookout decks. United Way is coming in September to help us create an office for PSV. Last week, we began the conversion of an old maintenance building/shack into the PSV office. This shack was disgusting. I’ve never seen so many cockroaches, lizards, and rats in one location. For a video that shows some of the destruction, check out Stephen’s blog. It seems to me that much of what I will be doing in the immediate future is working side by side with the tour guides, architects, and Fernando, preparing the trails. Once we make some headway in that department, I will get a chance to put my business skills in action. Being a marketing major, I think part of the reason I was selected for this position was because they need someone to help them bridge the gap between the trails being established and the actual people coming in to take part in the experience. I think I could really make an impact here. I don’t mind breaking my back at the start because it gives me more than enough time to familiarize myself with the project and its philosophy. I’m confident I’ll come up with something beneficial, because after all (in the eloquent words of Jay-Z), “I’m not a businessman, I’m a business…man!”
To help in developing the trails, the Centro enlisted the help of the nearby University of Puerto Rico in Rio Piedras (the professor is an old friend of Fernando). A class of about 16 architecture students focusing on community service projects will be working with us to professionally design our work plans. We met them this past Monday and they seemed very enthusiastic about the project, at least more so than the tour guides. They also spoke better Spanish. We could understand them much more than the tour guides. They also were very friendly and interested in what Stephen, Dan, and I had decided to do here in Puerto Rico. We went to a local authentic restaurant/hang out after the workday and got to know each other better. All in all, it was a solid, productive day.
The nuns, though, if they could speak English, would most definitely tell my blog readers: Don’t get it twisted! By that, I mean, the word “tourism” is misleading. As I mentioned, eco-therapy and the soothing powers of nature are the focus of the entire project. Even before Proyecto Siempre Verde became a reality, many groups (youth groups, students, business offices, etc.) have been coming to the Centro to partake in various group therapy sessions. As you can imagine, establishing the trails and an educated tour through the forest would be an excellent addition to the already successful therapy weekends. From what I gather, the ideal weekend retreat group would have a schedule something like this (beginning Saturday morning): brunch, slide show introduction to the Center and its programs, taller (group activities), lunch, daytime tour on the trails, dinner, break, nighttime tour highlighting the many nocturnal creatures present, sleep, morning bird watch, breakfast, conclusion of weekend.
That is where the Santurce crew is at right about now with its job situation. We will be heading to the Cantera project for the rest of the week. Cantera is another project much like PSV, but it is much further along in its establishment. We understand, though, that fresh ideas are stocking out and that there might be a place for us, or some of us, to help out over there. Hopefully by next week I will have some sort of solidified work schedule, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I weren’t any enlightened than I am now. ¡Asi es la vida!
Keep reading. That last post was almost straight business. No me gustó. I’ll try to make some funnier posts next time around.
Over the past few years, a collective effort titled Proyecto Siempre Verde (Project Always Green) developed steadily. The idea of the project is to make the rain forest more of an ecotourism attraction. In doing so, the hope is that the community will have an avenue of potential unity, the project will bring in revenue, and that the revenue will create self-sustaining jobs for La Loma members (tour guides, maintenance, management, etc). The nuns truly believe in the powers of eco-therapy and the spirituality inherent in nature. A lot has to happen before any of this is realized, though. We are in the midst of developing trails through the forest. There is much to see and learn while in the forest and this is precisely what the project is trying to capitalize on. Puerto Rico’s formation is unique to the Caribbean. A mixture of lava, tectonic plates, and sea vegetation deposits resulted in PR having thousands of endemic species of plants and animals. The man that knows everything about all these species and about everything in general is Fernando Silva. Essentially, he is in charge of Proyecto Siempre Verde. He is also a cross between Bill Murray and Jean Reno. The man is amazing, I can’t say enough about him. He is a professor at one of the larger universities here in PR and he also is the founder of the environmental agency INCICO. Fernando speaks and people listen. He speaks clearly and extremely slow, as if everything he is teaching you is the secret to a happy life. I love it. He also routinely and nonchalantly catches lizards, snakes, and other animals with his bare hands.
Anyways, over the past year or so, Fernando has carefully selected and trained high school and college-aged students from La Loma to become tour guides once the trail preparation is completed. This past weekend, the tour guides and us voluntarios stayed overnight at the Centro. This weekend was a trial run for the tour guides, but it also was a chance for us to get to know them better and to learn what they have been learning. This proved to be extremely difficult. I understand 100% of everything that people like Sylvia, Fernando, and Sister Nancy say, but the youth seem to have a different language. They speak unbelievably fast and don’t pronounce all of their syllables. For instance, they don’t pronounce “r” or “s” at the end of words. For someone still trying to learn more and more Spanish, a missing “r” or “s” is devastating to comprehension and the learning process. We definitely experienced some resentment from the group, but overall, everyone seemed to get along.
Recently, and after incessant grant proposals, the Centro Buen Pastor has received a decent amount of funding from various organizations. This funding will go towards the development of Proyecto Siempre Verde. For instance, parts of the trail need stone steps, some areas need bridges over the creek, and certain points would benefit greatly from established lookout decks. United Way is coming in September to help us create an office for PSV. Last week, we began the conversion of an old maintenance building/shack into the PSV office. This shack was disgusting. I’ve never seen so many cockroaches, lizards, and rats in one location. For a video that shows some of the destruction, check out Stephen’s blog. It seems to me that much of what I will be doing in the immediate future is working side by side with the tour guides, architects, and Fernando, preparing the trails. Once we make some headway in that department, I will get a chance to put my business skills in action. Being a marketing major, I think part of the reason I was selected for this position was because they need someone to help them bridge the gap between the trails being established and the actual people coming in to take part in the experience. I think I could really make an impact here. I don’t mind breaking my back at the start because it gives me more than enough time to familiarize myself with the project and its philosophy. I’m confident I’ll come up with something beneficial, because after all (in the eloquent words of Jay-Z), “I’m not a businessman, I’m a business…man!”
To help in developing the trails, the Centro enlisted the help of the nearby University of Puerto Rico in Rio Piedras (the professor is an old friend of Fernando). A class of about 16 architecture students focusing on community service projects will be working with us to professionally design our work plans. We met them this past Monday and they seemed very enthusiastic about the project, at least more so than the tour guides. They also spoke better Spanish. We could understand them much more than the tour guides. They also were very friendly and interested in what Stephen, Dan, and I had decided to do here in Puerto Rico. We went to a local authentic restaurant/hang out after the workday and got to know each other better. All in all, it was a solid, productive day.
The nuns, though, if they could speak English, would most definitely tell my blog readers: Don’t get it twisted! By that, I mean, the word “tourism” is misleading. As I mentioned, eco-therapy and the soothing powers of nature are the focus of the entire project. Even before Proyecto Siempre Verde became a reality, many groups (youth groups, students, business offices, etc.) have been coming to the Centro to partake in various group therapy sessions. As you can imagine, establishing the trails and an educated tour through the forest would be an excellent addition to the already successful therapy weekends. From what I gather, the ideal weekend retreat group would have a schedule something like this (beginning Saturday morning): brunch, slide show introduction to the Center and its programs, taller (group activities), lunch, daytime tour on the trails, dinner, break, nighttime tour highlighting the many nocturnal creatures present, sleep, morning bird watch, breakfast, conclusion of weekend.
That is where the Santurce crew is at right about now with its job situation. We will be heading to the Cantera project for the rest of the week. Cantera is another project much like PSV, but it is much further along in its establishment. We understand, though, that fresh ideas are stocking out and that there might be a place for us, or some of us, to help out over there. Hopefully by next week I will have some sort of solidified work schedule, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I weren’t any enlightened than I am now. ¡Asi es la vida!
Keep reading. That last post was almost straight business. No me gustó. I’ll try to make some funnier posts next time around.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
First Post...Primera Parte
Before I get going, my roommate Stephen and I are both writing Google blogs. Sometimes we will cover the same stories, sometimes not. It would be impossible to update ya’ll on everything crazy that happens here, so we will try to split up the stories. We also have been taking different video snippets with our cameras, so we will also have different videos on our blogs. I encourage you to check out his site if you want to be as informed as possible. Here is his blog URL: http://thebeachlifeinpuertorico.blogspot.com/
I apologize for the delay in posts. We do not have internet in Santurce and are limited to trips to Starbucks every once in awhile. Also, there is so much to say! I promise I will catch up soon.
I arrived in San Juan on Tuesday the 11th. After I claimed my luggage, I had no idea where to go. Thankfully, Sylvia and Harry (two PRCSC coordinators) quickly found me. The rest of the volunteers flew in shortly thereafter. Once we collected everyone, Sylvia took us to one of her favorite authentic, Puerto Rican restaurants in the city. It was the first time any of us tried mofongo, pernil, and tostones…but everything was delicious! Sylvia is great to be around and a wonderful resource for all things PR. She is 70 years old, but I would’ve guessed 55. She has a lot of energy and really sinks her heart into this volunteer program.
We had the next day off to acquaint ourselves with each other as well as with PR culture. That included the realization that our apartment is nothing like home, that driving around San Juan is always an adventure, that sleeping past 9 is impossible because it is already about 88 degrees, and that the only UV rating they have here is labeled EXTREME. There are 4 other volunteers in the program. Stephen, Tesia, and Meg are domers while Dan is the lone representative of Lehigh. Specifically, I live with Stephen and Dan in Santurce (Sahn-tour-say) because we are all working on the same project in Caguas. Meg and Tesia reside on Orocovis (Or-o-co-veese), where they teach English and organize extracurricular activities.
Santurce is the only district of San Juan that does not have a shoreline. Sure, the south end is the San Juan bay, but if you saw the beautiful coastline, you would be jealous as well. Santurce is literally enveloped by an extensive metropolitan highway system. If you find yourself trapped in between Highway 1, Expressway Diego, and Highway 26, you are in Santurce. Roll up your windows! I live on the third floor of an apartment complex. Oscar, an ND grad in his 40’s, owns the building. His contribution to the PRCSC is letting us live in the third floor loft. His import/export business takes up the first two floors. Santurce is renowned for its food markets and delectable, low-cost eateries. Despite this, the neighborhood is a bit rough. We live across the street from the two largest housing projects in San Juan. We were advised not to walk around after about 7 o’clock. Good thing we’ve got our reliable, mid-90’s Honda Odyssey to shuttle the crew around. I know I complained about the lack of Santurce beach spots, but I will admit that we have gone to multiple beaches already and not one was more than 10 minutes away. A 15-minute walk straight north of the apartment will put us in the Condado resort area with beaches a plenty.
Orocovis has nothing in common with Santurce. We dropped the girls off at their casita (small house) on Sunday. It is an hour and 15 minute drive southwest of San Juan. Specifically, we have to travel straight west along the coast and then straight south through the mountains. Orocovis is said to be the geographic epicenter of the island. The drive south is incredible: beautiful mountains, rolling green valleys, and dangerous roads. We were instantly greeted by the few or so nuns that are overseeing the work done by the girls. These Salesian nuns also live in the casita next door. We had a feast for lunch and afterwards commenced a grand introduction to anyone and everyone involved in the Centro Allespi and the after-school program. Everyone had a big smile on their face and the children running around were some of the most adorable I have ever seen (next to my goddaughter, of course)! Orocovis is extremely rural, nestled in the mountains and tucked between forests. It rains daily there (3 times in the 3 hours when we were there), but the showers last 10 minutes and then the sun pops out and dries everything up in an instant. Also, a decent amount of people in Puerto Rico speak basic English. But, the farther into the country you go, the more the English disappears. This will be hugely advantageous to Meg and Tesia as they are less advanced Spanish-speakers. They will learn Spanish the best way possible. I can only assume they will have a similar experience to mine in Mexico, where no one spoke English. I think the girls are going to have an incredible experience in Orocovis. They don’t have anything except for the wonderful people, the beautiful scenery, and the satisfaction that they are teaching the children valuable life skills. I think they will realize that’s all that truly matters.
Part 2 coming soon!
I apologize for the delay in posts. We do not have internet in Santurce and are limited to trips to Starbucks every once in awhile. Also, there is so much to say! I promise I will catch up soon.
I arrived in San Juan on Tuesday the 11th. After I claimed my luggage, I had no idea where to go. Thankfully, Sylvia and Harry (two PRCSC coordinators) quickly found me. The rest of the volunteers flew in shortly thereafter. Once we collected everyone, Sylvia took us to one of her favorite authentic, Puerto Rican restaurants in the city. It was the first time any of us tried mofongo, pernil, and tostones…but everything was delicious! Sylvia is great to be around and a wonderful resource for all things PR. She is 70 years old, but I would’ve guessed 55. She has a lot of energy and really sinks her heart into this volunteer program.
We had the next day off to acquaint ourselves with each other as well as with PR culture. That included the realization that our apartment is nothing like home, that driving around San Juan is always an adventure, that sleeping past 9 is impossible because it is already about 88 degrees, and that the only UV rating they have here is labeled EXTREME. There are 4 other volunteers in the program. Stephen, Tesia, and Meg are domers while Dan is the lone representative of Lehigh. Specifically, I live with Stephen and Dan in Santurce (Sahn-tour-say) because we are all working on the same project in Caguas. Meg and Tesia reside on Orocovis (Or-o-co-veese), where they teach English and organize extracurricular activities.
Santurce is the only district of San Juan that does not have a shoreline. Sure, the south end is the San Juan bay, but if you saw the beautiful coastline, you would be jealous as well. Santurce is literally enveloped by an extensive metropolitan highway system. If you find yourself trapped in between Highway 1, Expressway Diego, and Highway 26, you are in Santurce. Roll up your windows! I live on the third floor of an apartment complex. Oscar, an ND grad in his 40’s, owns the building. His contribution to the PRCSC is letting us live in the third floor loft. His import/export business takes up the first two floors. Santurce is renowned for its food markets and delectable, low-cost eateries. Despite this, the neighborhood is a bit rough. We live across the street from the two largest housing projects in San Juan. We were advised not to walk around after about 7 o’clock. Good thing we’ve got our reliable, mid-90’s Honda Odyssey to shuttle the crew around. I know I complained about the lack of Santurce beach spots, but I will admit that we have gone to multiple beaches already and not one was more than 10 minutes away. A 15-minute walk straight north of the apartment will put us in the Condado resort area with beaches a plenty.
Orocovis has nothing in common with Santurce. We dropped the girls off at their casita (small house) on Sunday. It is an hour and 15 minute drive southwest of San Juan. Specifically, we have to travel straight west along the coast and then straight south through the mountains. Orocovis is said to be the geographic epicenter of the island. The drive south is incredible: beautiful mountains, rolling green valleys, and dangerous roads. We were instantly greeted by the few or so nuns that are overseeing the work done by the girls. These Salesian nuns also live in the casita next door. We had a feast for lunch and afterwards commenced a grand introduction to anyone and everyone involved in the Centro Allespi and the after-school program. Everyone had a big smile on their face and the children running around were some of the most adorable I have ever seen (next to my goddaughter, of course)! Orocovis is extremely rural, nestled in the mountains and tucked between forests. It rains daily there (3 times in the 3 hours when we were there), but the showers last 10 minutes and then the sun pops out and dries everything up in an instant. Also, a decent amount of people in Puerto Rico speak basic English. But, the farther into the country you go, the more the English disappears. This will be hugely advantageous to Meg and Tesia as they are less advanced Spanish-speakers. They will learn Spanish the best way possible. I can only assume they will have a similar experience to mine in Mexico, where no one spoke English. I think the girls are going to have an incredible experience in Orocovis. They don’t have anything except for the wonderful people, the beautiful scenery, and the satisfaction that they are teaching the children valuable life skills. I think they will realize that’s all that truly matters.
Part 2 coming soon!
Friday, August 21, 2009
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Monday, August 17, 2009
Welcome
Hey everyone,
I have officially been in Puerto Rico for a week. I can't even begin to describe all that I have already experienced. This past week was jam-packed with orientation sessions, meeting important PRCSC financiers with no less than 5 names, and, of course, multiple trips to the beach.
I will put all my thoughts together at some point this week and update the blog with a few stories. As for now, I'm still trying to figure out my work schedule and settle into somewhat of a routine. Once everything starts to flow more smoothly, updates will be more frequent.
I'll leave you now with a video. It's a quick tour of my apartment in Santurce (a district of San Juan).
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