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.