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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

El Yunque Rain Forest From the Top

I gave all those clouds a big hug!

Don't Go Chasin' Waterfalls

This is the dumpster that corresponds to the story about the Calle Las Palmas bum.

Horses

Read the post below to gain appreciation for this picture.

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.

Episode 1

As promised, here is the first episode of the highly anticipated series, "Illegal in the U.S., Fun in P.R."