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.