Perdida en San Juan

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…