Perdida en San Juan

Last night Stephanie and I again ventured to Old San Juan, because despite my best efforts to hate it, it’s so damn nice and I cant help but want to be there (okay, here. I’m sitting in the old city as I type). The plan was to get some dinner and head to Starbucks (free wireless) for me to catch up on email and her to work on her thesis. We went to some great Venezuelan place that was delicious, cheapish, and empty. We ordered a bottle of wine at dinner and when it arrived it wasn’t a botella fina, it was a big fat one. And we drank it all and laughed and talked and it was great, but then I was wasted and of course we didn’t come to Starbucks. For lunch I had eaten rice and beans and at dinner I got some small vegetarian thing and so I was drunk drunk. Then we went home, I took a drunk shower that I don’t remember but found my underwear on the floor in there this morning (this is embarrassing cause I don’t live there). I called Ben and was obnoxious. I fall asleep, wake up at 6:00 for work and Stephanie is up, dressed, has walked the dog and is calmly smoking a joint on the terrace. I’m scared.

Work. I don’t know what to say. It could just be that I am a lazy piece of shit who doesn’t want to exert any effort, or I could be right in thinking this isn’t the kind of work I want to do. But why? I am working at a nonprofit, housed by a university, under the direction of one of the most politically active people I’ve ever met. My coworkers are kind and concerned about helping me to adjust to San Juan. I am speaking Spanish for nine hours straight and am surrounded by students. But my “tasks” for the first quarter are things like: develop volunteer program, map nonprofits in neighborhood of Santurce and help figure out the budget for a video about service-learning our office is trying to produce. Those are very important and cool things, so why am I not interested? I was talking to Ben about it and I was explaining that I’d be so psyched to do those things in State College (I can’t believe I am saying this!) where I am established in the community and know people, care about making it a better place and have some sense of belonging. Hopefully this comes with time and I am really trying to be positive. This morning was good–we went to a few classes and gave talks about our office and they were English classes so i was a superstar. But sitting in an office I cannot handle. After lunch we spent from 2:30 until 6:00 in a meeting about this video. It was unbearable and I was struggling to stay awake and participatory. Hangover didn’t help. But it really has me thinking because my projects for the other three quarters are way more intense, such as heavy duty fundraising and proposal writing. I don’t want to do this crap. I know it is necessary and the engine of any nonprofit but I am too impatient. If (when) I make it through this year, I really think I’ll have accomplished something. I don’t know yet if I want to stay in San Juan for another year, but if I do, I can switch Americorps projects. I’d like to do Prensa Comunitaria or a human rights group whose name I forget. Or maybe I’ll find a job that’s not Americorps because my credit card is over the $1,000 mark for the first time since Spain and I’m freaking. I was talking to a potential visitor earlier and I mentioned its cheap to fly here (sometimes) and he assured me that he is a well-paid professional and I thought, damn. I wish I had money. And then I told myself to shut up because I chose to earn about $9,500/year. Right?

Pictures

View from my hotel in Dorado

Me and my roommate, Annie. Check older blogging for why she’s the coolest.

Me and the guy who sat next to me at training.

My sweet pooch who is soon to be my roomie. Her name is Zorrita.

View from the living room, looking on to the terrace.

My living room

View from the terrace, looking on to my street and Miramar.

Me and someone cool. Unfortunately, he’s not part of the scenery here in Puerto Rico.

i’ve had a few days of transitioning between life at a swanky resort to sleeping outside in a hammock and being devoured by mosquitos. i’m staying with stephanie, another woman who works at sagrado corazon. she is cool. she’s a gringa too but has been here six years and is well-established. her boyfriend is very cool and she seems to have a really fun life. she says hello to everyone on the street–jaime, a middle-aged guy who paints and chooses to be homeless, the leader of the PIP (independent party) and every person walking a dog.the good news: i am no longer homeless. i’m going to live with stephanie starting october 1. she lives in miramar, a nice barrio, but kind of in the ghetto. i think its fine but she keeps insisting its the ghetto and that i havent seen anything yet. whatever. rent is cheap, i get my own room, the place is cmfortable and has a big terraza. she lives with a puertorriquena who works in a school. until october 1, i might be sleeping in an absent flight attendant’s bedroom in viejo san juan with two wonderful lesbians, but we’ll see. nothing is firm. stephanie and i bought some maria earlier and enjoyed it on the roof. while we were up there a truck was driving on the highway that is next to her neighborhood, with big speakers on the roof blasting some reggaeton song. following it was a pack of 20 cyclists or so. image of the day.

this morning we got up early and went to the beach with stephanie’s dog, and normally i hate dogs but this is the sweetest pooch ever. we did a water aerobics class led by a lesbian group. i cant stress enough how much fun this was. at the end of the session there is a few minutes for everyone to give hugs. then the shack selling food on the beach started playing julieta, who would be my lover if it werent for ben. we got food at the shack, comida tipica de puerto rico, bacalao and some other things whose names i would spell wrong but were delicious, along with a few medallas each (the beer of PR!) now at a coffee shop, typing this in word pad cause the wireless here sucks.

the bad news: i am covered in mosquito bites. this morning as i was showing i counted my bites. i counted 17, though its tough to say because they are all in different stages. some are a few days old and no longer an issue, but this morning i woke up with five fat ones. no hot water at stephanie’s. the place is nice though, with a big open air terrace that is part of the place. hard to explain. the apartment has three walls and a roof–the fourth wall is open air. its beautiful. wet when it rains. i’m sleeping in a hammock outside and getting devoured by mosquitos but i’m not too bothered.

tonight we came to viejo san juan, the intensely touristy part of the city. i would love to live here (and it seems i will, for one month) but at the same time, are you fucking kidding me? starbucks and ridiculous shops and expensive restaurants where a gringa as myself is immediately greeted in english. jewelers on the street are nice, as is the free wireless at STARBUCKS, but ill take my ghetto anyday. i cannot stress this enough: if you have been to PR but only viejo san juan, you have a completely erroneous view of this city. the real city is gritty, dangerous poor and ugly. viejo san juan is classy, with polishd wood and gourmet coffee shops and it IS NOT REAL. nobody lives like this. the real gente of san juan live well beyond their means, in nice cars and with laptops, but in small apartments with bugs and dependent on chain retailers like walmart, kmart and walgreens, who has purchased a large numbers of corners in the city and is slowly but surely taking over.

i went to the grocery store today and i was severely disappointed. yes they sell wine but the cheapest bottle was $8 and was fruity garbage. and everything is packaged and american. oreos and kraft singles and i am unimpressed. the organic market will be good but gotta take the bus, which costs money and etc etc.

i am disappointed in some aspects of puerto rican life. there is no resistance to american imperialism, or colonialism, or capitalism or however you’d like to think about it. and i am not implying that even i think of it this way (i think i do) but i need to think more about it and observe and read. but i am reading a book about the history of PR and never ever has it been free. it was free for exactly ten weeks between spanish dependency and the american invasion in 1898. so while the people here are content with their overextended lifestyles, financed by american express, never has this island known real independence. i am learning about the political parties, and the PIP (independent party) who (obviously) advocated complete independence is kind of smirked at. i was talking to a guy at orientation who referred to the PIP as “more of a movement than a party.” i can’t decide how i’ll vote yet because again i want to read more and observe, but one thing i am certain of is that i am disturbed at the complacency. on the other hand–puerto ricans live modern lifestyles with modern conveniences, nice cars and identical cell phone packages (everyone here has the same phone as me) as a direct result of their loose association with the united states. puerto ricans are american citizens and enjoy the same liberties as anyone else might. but a la vez maintain their own identity and very unique traditions. i am torn but like i said read and observe. a quote from the book im reading which struck me:

“I spent all of yesterday with the spyglass in my hands; from Desecheo to Ataud, from Punta Borinquen to Punta Ponce.  I saw all of her, I looked and looked at her, I admired her, and blessed her, and grieved for her… I grieed for her, and with her, for her beauty and misfortune.  I thought how noble it would have been to see her free by her own efforts, and how sad, and crushing and shameful it was to see her change from one master to another, without ever being her own…”  –Eugenio Maria de Hostos, writing in his diary September 12, 1898, while aboard the steamer “Philadelphia” as it left Puerto Rico.

i am excited for this year. i think it will be the most educational year since my semester in spain, when i read all night and learned constantly. penn state wasn’t really much of an education in terms of experience.

i get sad and homesick everyday. i’ve called ben crying more than once. i want to get on a plane and come home more than once a day but i know that if i stick this out and aprovechar i will really benefit from it. and i bet in one year i won’t want to go home. it is a big challenge, more than i expected, and it is definitely not vacation. my job is hellish and i really think i will hate every second of it, but i won’t run away from it. i think back on how i bailed on ym internship in spain (a flamenco recording label/PR agency) and i regre tthat so much. even though my job is not the coolest, i think i will learn something about life and people. my boss, while harsh, tough, not very friendly and kind of abrasive, is also amazing. she organized a series of mini flash mobs (soapboxing, i am told this may be called) on city buses to quickly disseminate info about the israel/lebanon conflict. she has a che sticker on her car and is immensely active in the city. brought me to a restuarant where the activists hang out on my first day. i’ve gone back twice (where i met the PIP leader).

knowing chazulle (boss) and stephanie is going t help plug me into a cool community, i hope. especially living with stephanie. i have drank no less than four beers a day since arriving. chazulle won’t be a friend, but i can use her for ideas–i already passed along an idea to ben for USAS. hope it works out.

tomorrow morning is work. early days and late afternoons. gotta find a yoga studio. i’m going to get my shit together and start going to the indymedia meetings at the UPR if i ever figure out something to write about and get confident enough about my spanish.

if you’re reading this, i miss you. really. leave me comments and call me. i am frustrated by how little people want to keep in touch with me. i am in a new place where i don’t know anyone. i have a lot of down time, no internet and my phone works. so call me. also if you made it to the end of this entry, te amo. don’t be a stranger.

i’ve had a few days of transitioning between life at a swanky resort to sleeping outside in a hammock and being devoured by mosquitos. i’m staying with stephanie, another woman who works at sagrado corazon. she is cool. she’s a gringa too but has been here six years and is well-established. her boyfriend is very cool and she seems to have a really fun life. she says hello to everyone on the street–jaime, a middle-aged guy who paints and chooses to be homeless, the leader of the PIP (independent party) and every person walking a dog.the good news: i am no longer homeless. i’m going to live with stephanie starting october 1. she lives in miramar, a nice barrio, but kind of in the ghetto. i think its fine but she keeps insisting its the ghetto and that i havent seen anything yet. whatever. rent is cheap, i get my own room, the place is cmfortable and has a big terraza. she lives with a puertorriquena who works in a school. until october 1, i might be sleeping in an absent flight attendant’s bedroom in viejo san juan with two wonderful lesbians, but we’ll see. nothing is firm. stephanie and i bought some maria earlier and enjoyed it on the roof. while we were up there a truck was driving on the highway that is next to her neighborhood, with big speakers on the roof blasting some reggaeton song. following it was a pack of 20 cyclists or so. image of the day.

this morning we got up early and went to the beach with stephanie’s dog, and normally i hate dogs but this is the sweetest pooch ever. we did a water aerobics class led by a lesbian group. i cant stress enough how much fun this was. at the end of the session there is a few minutes for everyone to give hugs. then the shack selling food on the beach started playing julieta, who would be my lover if it werent for ben. we got food at the shack, comida tipica de puerto rico, bacalao and some other things whose names i would spell wrong but were delicious, along with a few medallas each (the beer of PR!) now at a coffee shop, typing this in word pad cause the wireless here sucks.

the bad news: i am covered in mosquito bites. this morning as i was showing i counted my bites. i counted 17, though its tough to say because they are all in different stages. some are a few days old and no longer an issue, but this morning i woke up with five fat ones. no hot water at stephanie’s. the place is nice though, with a big open air terrace that is part of the place. hard to explain. the apartment has three walls and a roof–the fourth wall is open air. its beautiful. wet when it rains. i’m sleeping in a hammock outside and getting devoured by mosquitos but i’m not too bothered.

tonight we came to viejo san juan, the intensely touristy part of the city. i would love to live here (and it seems i will, for one month) but at the same time, are you fucking kidding me? starbucks and ridiculous shops and expensive restaurants where a gringa as myself is immediately greeted in english. jewelers on the street are nice, as is the free wireless at STARBUCKS, but ill take my ghetto anyday. i cannot stress this enough: if you have been to PR but only viejo san juan, you have a completely erroneous view of this city. the real city is gritty, dangerous poor and ugly. viejo san juan is classy, with polishd wood and gourmet coffee shops and it IS NOT REAL. nobody lives like this. the real gente of san juan live well beyond their means, in nice cars and with laptops, but in small apartments with bugs and dependent on chain retailers like walmart, kmart and walgreens, who has purchased a large numbers of corners in the city and is slowly but surely taking over.

i went to the grocery store today and i was severely disappointed. yes they sell wine but the cheapest bottle was $8 and was fruity garbage. and everything is packaged and american. oreos and kraft singles and i am unimpressed. the organic market will be good but gotta take the bus, which costs money and etc etc.

i am disappointed in some aspects of puerto rican life. there is no resistance to american imperialism, or colonialism, or capitalism or however you’d like to think about it. and i am not implying that even i think of it this way (i think i do) but i need to think more about it and observe and read. but i am reading a book about the history of PR and never ever has it been free. it was free for exactly ten weeks between spanish dependency and the american invasion in 1898. so while the people here are content with their overextended lifestyles, financed by american express, never has this island known real independence. i am learning about the political parties, and the PIP (independent party) who (obviously) advocated complete independence is kind of smirked at. i was talking to a guy at orientation who referred to the PIP as “more of a movement than a party.” i can’t decide how i’ll vote yet because again i want to read more and observe, but one thing i am certain of is that i am disturbed at the complacency. on the other hand–puerto ricans live modern lifestyles with modern conveniences, nice cars and identical cell phone packages (everyone here has the same phone as me) as a direct result of their loose association with the united states. puerto ricans are american citizens and enjoy the same liberties as anyone else might. but a la vez maintain their own identity and very unique traditions. i am torn but like i said read and observe. a quote from the book im reading which struck me:

“I spent all of yesterday with the spyglass in my hands; from Desecheo to Ataud, from Punta Borinquen to Punta Ponce.  I saw all of her, I looked and looked at her, I admired her, and blessed her, and grieved for her… I grieed for her, and with her, for her beauty and misfortune.  I thought how noble it would have been to see her free by her own efforts, and how sad, and crushing and shameful it was to see her change from one master to another, without ever being her own…”  –Eugenio Maria de Hostos, writing in his diary September 12, 1898, while aboard the steamer “Philadelphia” as it left Puerto Rico.

i am excited for this year. i think it will be the most educational year since my semester in spain, when i read all night and learned constantly. penn state wasn’t really much of an education in terms of experience.

i get sad and homesick everyday. i’ve called ben crying more than once. i want to get on a plane and come home more than once a day but i know that if i stick this out and aprovechar i will really benefit from it. and i bet in one year i won’t want to go home. it is a big challenge, more than i expected, and it is definitely not vacation. my job is hellish and i really think i will hate every second of it, but i won’t run away from it. i think back on how i bailed on ym internship in spain (a flamenco recording label/PR agency) and i regre tthat so much. even though my job is not the coolest, i think i will learn something about life and people. my boss, while harsh, tough, not very friendly and kind of abrasive, is also amazing. she organized a series of mini flash mobs (soapboxing, i am told this may be called) on city buses to quickly disseminate info about the israel/lebanon conflict. she has a che sticker on her car and is immensely active in the city. brought me to a restuarant where the activists hang out on my first day. i’ve gone back twice (where i met the PIP leader).

knowing chazulle (boss) and stephanie is going t help plug me into a cool community, i hope. especially living with stephanie. i have drank no less than four beers a day since arriving. chazulle won’t be a friend, but i can use her for ideas–i already passed along an idea to ben for USAS. hope it works out.

tomorrow morning is work. early days and late afternoons. gotta find a yoga studio. i’m going to get my shit together and start going to the indymedia meetings at the UPR if i ever figure out something to write about and get confident enough about my spanish.

if you’re reading this, i miss you. really. leave me comments and call me. i am frustrated by how little people want to keep in touch with me. i am in a new place where i don’t know anyone. i have a lot of down time, no internet and my phone works. so call me. also if you made it to the end of this entry, te amo. don’t be a stranger.

Today was much less interesting and fun than yesterday. I really hate these kinds of things and today was more of a nightmarish camp experience than yesterday. We had to come up with motivational statements, build a stack of cups and talk about working as a team. I hate that. There was also chanting and related activities. Still though, I love Puerto Rico and the people contained within. They’re all very kind and welcoming. My roommate and I did some yoga this morning when we got up which was great.

Housing developments: I rejected both apartments because neither is exactly what I want. I’m probably being too choosy but I don’t want to live with seven people or spend half of my monthly income, so I’m going to stay for a few days with a nice woman who works at my university. She’s actually American and promised to help plug me into the “progressive” community, find me a yoga studio and said we can go to the fruit and veggie markets together. Also she might actually have a room in her place available, which is in Miramar, a very nice area of the city. I can’t wait to unpack my bags and stop living from them, but I don’t want to take a place without thinking it through.

I spent some of today going over the work plan with Chazulle. Sometimes I think she likes me a lot, because she laughs and asks me questions. Other times, like when I try to sit with her at lunch, she brushes me off. I am not sure how I feel about my job. I’m hard to motivate. I really have to be excited about something and I hope that I will get there with this job. I want to do well for Chazulle because Belinda told me she chose me out of ten people, including one who had worked in the office before. Chazulle has a Che sticker on her car.

Observations. Many people have English names. Elizabeth, Christian, Anne. A lot of boys wear sunglasses on the back of their heads.  Many also shave the inside bit of their eyebrows so they start maybe midway over their eyes. It might be futile to resist reggaeton.

I miss music. I’ve been reading. There is flirtation within the VISTAs, which is cute because I am not partaking.

I’m back.  I’m at some fancy shmancy hotel where the internet costs $10/day, which I’m hoping the U.S. government will pay for.  If not, I’ll share the cost with my roommate.  I was nervous about orientation, because believe it or not I can be shy.  But today I’m not shy and things are way better than I could have even hoped.

I traveled here with my boss, Chazulle, and another woman who works at the university and her Americorps employee.  Nia, the other VISTA, is from Ohio and got here a week ago.  In one week, she successfully enrolled herself on food stamps, rented an apartment and bought a car, and her Spanish is atrocious.  This gives me hope.  From San Juan the hotel is about 45 minutes  by car and on the way here we stopped to eat at some small shack on the side of the road. For $4, I ate rice, beans and a platano cake of some sort and I ordered a Malta India (some tasty soda-type beverage) but she misunderstood me and gave me a Mountain Dew which was fine, I guess.  This place, completely in the middle of nowhere with no town or development in sight, was full of men drinking Finlandia vodka.  It was also situated on the beach and I ate with sand beneath my toes.  The beach is absolutely beautiful and I couldn’t keep my eyes off of it.

We got to the hotel and sat through long sessions about medical insurance and rules and whatever.  I am pleased to announce that out of 80 VISTAs, only six are from the mainland US (rest are Puerto Rican) and about half are over the age of 30.  Many of these people have families and kids at home and are taking a year to volunteer for their community. My roommate, for example, is 43 and from Colorado.  Her name is Annie and she is in Puerto Rico because she wants to learn Spanish.  She’s a brilliant woman, very kind and warm and I am glad to be staying with her.  Together we figured out the internet situation (at its exorbitent rate).  We ate a delicious dinner of rice and beans, chicken, salad, and enchiladas.  Now we’re chilling.  I am so happy to say that everyone is very kind and open, everyone is interested in us gringos and wants to practice English.  I am really feeling good about this.  I am ecstatic.  This is better than I possibly could have hoped and I know I am at a high right now, but I really optimistic and feeling good about the coming year.

On the living front, still no news.  I have a place in mnd that I’d like to rent, I’d be living alone on a main drag (as I reported earlier).  However, there is another option:  to live with seven college girls in a university apartment.  There are two problems with this situation:  I’d be sharing a bedroom and I’d like to live away from work to get a larger feel for the city.  It’s about $100 cheaper, though.  I think if I successfuly swindle the government into giving me food stamps ($150/mo!!!) I might treat myself to the nicer place alone.  This means no Spanish practice but I’ll be speaking all day at work.  And as mucha as this trip is about learning a new place, language and culture its also about me.  From the beginning I’ve looked forward to spending this year reading and doing my own thing.  I’m afraid of being lonely, though.  Comments?

I’ll try to get some pictures uploaded soon.  Actually, I haven’t taken any yet because I haven’t thought of it.  But I’ll think of it.

This is the blog I’ll keep. Usually I think blogs are self-indulgent and unnecessary, and I’m mostly right. And this one is really no exception, but I had begun to keep a wordpad journal for myself and decided it might be alright to publish it. So here it is. This is an entry from yesterday, my second day in Puerto Rico (Sunday, 8/20). Excuse the lack of grammar, punctuation and coherence. I was typing in the dark as my gracious hostess tried to sleep. Enjoy.

el dia del helado

my second day in san juan. belinda, my very gracious and cool hostess, took me on an avdenture. for her, no biggie.
she’s a missionary and is planning a trip to the DR with a group from her church. and so for reasons undisclosed we traveled to a town about half an hour from san juan, called caguas. we arrived there unscathed, despite belinda’s endearing but terrifying manner of driving, which includes applying makeup, talking on a cell phone and driving with her knees. of course we were lost upon arrival and met up with her frends at a chinese restaurant on the outskirts of town called Hong Hei. From there we drove to a capilla where we met some middle-aged ladies. We were then transported in one car to the house where the monjas (nuns) live. I was definitely out of place, but they insisted I eat tamales (i think theyre called something else here) and rice and beans and lots of other unidentified things. All very delicious and they even gave me my own single-serving sized can of pear juice. i don’t think i understood even one word that was said except for “pennsylvania” in numerous attempts by my kind hostess to explain who i was and what i was doing there.

then we went up to the sanctuary where we stood in a circle and prayed at length while holding hands. i learned a bunch of prayers in spanish in high school and so I weakly attempted to join in. after that back to the capilla we went, where they sat in a circle and discussed the details of their trip while i daydreamed about home and everyone i know and miss so so much. so far i have forgotten to mention the presence of a dominican nun who was representing the orphanage they’ll be visiting. i have no idea what her name might have been. one of the only conversations i understod was about the difference in vocabulary in the DR and PR. she said some word the PRs found offensive and there was giggling. no idea what the word was. finally, after what seemed like an eternity the meeting was over and i thought we were free to drive back to safe san juan. first the nun insisted we all draw little prayer cards from the deck she had and read them aloud. mine was themed “nueva vida”–interesting, i guess, since everyone tells me that this is the beginning of my new life, even though i don’t necessarily want one. but the point of the card was something religious. then i really thought we were done but it came time to go around in a circle and thank god for something. my heart sank, cause i have no idea what to say. and im like really getting tense about it and trying frantically to come up with something half-decent in my head, and finally its my turn and i open my mouth and the kind, gracious woman next to me went instead, thus skipping my turn and returning me back to a semi-relaxed state. but at the same time, i was kind of insulted but in a really grateful kind of way. so then its finally over and francine, a girl about my age who has been totally obnoxious the whole time decides to take the nun and i on a driving tour of her town, which she informs me has tourist value, too. they milk cows or something here and the mountains are especially beautiful. the driving tour turns into belinda, myself, a nice girl whose name i’ll never know, francine, and nun careening around small mountainous roads at high speeds as francine yells at us from the front seat, pointing out various sites of interest from her childhood and teenage years. then all of a sudden we’re at francine’s house with a million kids playing basketball in the yard atop a mountain, and the car-sick nun makes a beeline for the bathroom. she’s in there forever. finally she comes out and advises that nobody else use it for awhile, which sucks cause i am like dying from the pear juice. after awhile i thought it safe and wandered in, but it was definitely not safe and then the husband had to come perform some plumbing operations on it while (i think) cursing under his breath. the nun is unrepentent. she doesn’t say a word and continues smiling and chatting with the women. we leave before the plumbing is complete and i think we’re going back to the car, but we end up in an ice cream parlor. this is maybe my worst nightmare. there are kids everywhere and the girls i am with insist on everyone using the scale in the place that costs 5 cents and tells you your horoscope. they ask me how much i weigh (before i knew they’d make me use it). i say 130 cause i have a feeling this is one of those situations where everyone is going to make fun of me for being the skinniest one. i’m right, and then its even worse cause someone throws a nickel in the machine and makes me get on it and according to the machine i weight 112. and then its like “ahhhh que comes, chica?” and i’m shy and embarrassed and now i HAVE to get ice cream or i’m the anorexic gringa. i order the smallest possible dish of parcha–passion fruit. it’s fine. they ask me repeatedly if i like it which i enthusiastically answer in partial-sentences and half-truths. the nun senses my discomfort and takes my hand. i am relieved and i squeeze her hand and smile at her and its really nice and cute, but she doesn’t let go. and im like trying to eat my ice cream with one hand (its a dish, so i have to use a spoon) but she’s holding my hand and of course i can’t let go because she’s a nun, a dominican nun, and i am in a new place. this lasts no less than 10 minutes, which may not seem like much, but think about it. finally it’s over and we tour the nearest church just because thats the business of these ladies. finally we get back to the car and its just belinda and i and i am 1000x more comfortable, though don’t let me make you think i didn’t have a blast on this adventure. while waiting for my turn to read my prayer, i thought about if sameeta could see me and i almost lost it. sameeta– this is what you call critical mass…

belinda is cool. don’t let the fact that she’s a missionary fool you. she’s a really really cool and interesting person and i am so lucky to have her here. i stayed with her last night and tonight (she sleeps a few feet away as i type). she lives in a house with three other girls and its very college, though they all work. the other girls are okay, some are very nice some are very not. belinda is the other americorps employee in my office. she’s from PR, a small town about an hour away. she also studied public relations and we commiserated about the sorority girl population of such classes, but she has a story that wins all: she had classes with this year’s miss universe, who you may recall is from PR. zayeka algo. she is very down-to-earth and our glasses are kind of alike. she spent a year in wisconsin on an exchange with the 4H club. could that be any cuter?

yesterday was hell. yesterday i wanted to get on a plane and sleep in my bed and hug my parents and matt and sameeta and ben and kathleen and ashley and ride my bike and go to webster’s (two iced mochas, please). i did a lot of crying. not a lot, but enough to compound my misery into self-pity. yesterday, after sleeping for about a half hour the night before, we drove around the city all day and looked at apartments. they are all filthy, and i don’t say that without justification: even my boss and belinda were appalled. there was one i liked a lot and still hope i get. it’s an efficiency off a main drag, c/ponce de leon, and comes completely furnished and includes water and electricity. its adjacent to a square with “cultural events” and an open-air market. its a little costoso, $400/mo. after taxes, that is more than half of what i’ll make in a month. and it might be nice to have a roommate, though i can’t imagine who. i wish i could live with belinda and i don’t know anyone else here. i was hopeful about meeting people at orientation but now i learned that they are mostly puerto rican, and so they will probably already have living arrangements and won’t be as totally lost and desperate as i am. also i am worried that i won’t make friends becuase they’ll be impatient with my spanish or already know people. another thing: there is a TALENT SHOW at this orientation. ?????? no tengo ningun talento.

yesterday we also spent with my boss who is named carmen chazulle. do a google search for her and you’ll see that she’s awesome. but she insists on being called by her last name, so when she calls belinda, belinda’s all like, “it’s chazulle!” which i find absolutely hilarious. chazulle is tough, small and you can see she means business, which scares me cause i hardly ever mean busines (i feel like i am writing Indecision). and i really think she got the worst possible impression of me, cause i was all shy and exhausted and fell asleep in the back of her car while she was being really nice and driving me around the city.

i was talking to michelle at the pit of my lonliness yesterday and she made me feel much better. today was much better than yesterday and i am sincerely hoping that orientation is not another nightmarish childhood camp experience. it may sound like i am being pessimistic but really i am optimistic. this is a lot harder than i thought it would be but i will definitely stick it out. it helps to know this cool person–we just spent an hour sitting on her bed and talking. her english is fantastic, though we speak spanish cause that’s what im here for. like i said, i wish i could live with her. that’s it for now. i think i apologize that this blog will probably be mostly a daily record od activities but i’m not twisting your arm to read (though i hope you do). i also hope you leave comments and tell me how valiant i am and the dates of the trip you’re taking to visit me. so this was day 2 and it was good. stay tuned for day 3. oh yeah–any ideas on what to name this blog? im not so creative with these things. spanish speakers, suggest something with a lot of nuance so i can seem like less of a monolingual poser down here. que dios os bendiga…