Adventures in Paradise

A hen cackled, “I laid an egg. I laid an egg.” Funny, at the same time a rooster crowed. I wonder if the cock a doodle was, "I laid a hen. I laid a hen." The most minuscule brown birds swarmed the Royal Palm Tree near our front door. Once their nest was in that tree, perhaps they’ll build again; I hope. The sun stroked the tops of trees promising more to come.

About 8 am we were sitting in the living room having a cup of coffee, enjoying a slow start to the day. After being out all night the dogs jumped up from a dead sleep. When dogs bark low in a certain tone and growl, it’s human and close; if the growl turns into a growly whine, we like the person, so we knew it was our friend and neighbor, Geri coming up the driveway.

“Good morning,” he said in English with a big smile on his face. “Buenas dias,” we replied.  Geri held up a big bag of yams, smiled, as he told the story of how he came upon this treasure while cleaning his land. The words in Spanish flew past the little window to my brain before I could catch a one, but Geri’s expressive body language gave us the whole picture.

When I asked him how to cook this, he laughed. The idea of a woman who isn’t a good cook is incomprehensible to him. With great pride Geri told us that he was indeed an excellent cook and then how to cook the yams.

Geri frequently tells me stories. He laughs so heartily when he gets to the punch line that I laugh with him even though I don’t understand the words. Having a friend, who doesn't speak the same language, is an adventure. When the person is someone as dear as Geri, it’s a lovely journey. Geri embodies old school Puerto Rico, the heart and soul of La Isla del Encanto. On a personal note he reminds me of the old school farmers my grandfather would take me to visit when I was incredibly young.

For years I’ve been afraid of retirement. Not having a schedule each day, or a to-do list left me feeling flaccid, wasted. All right, I’ll say it, “Useless.” What regimented thinking! I am learning to enjoy my day, especially a serendipitous moment like a neighbor dropping by unannounced with gifts.   

Enjoy your day, Tricia

SUV Shipped to the Island

Just when the panic button became a serious option, I used Sea Star’s tracking device again. This time success, the SUV was in the Port of San Juan. Oh joy, that gave me a major relief.

Where is my car? My shipping agent never responded. He replied with instructions to send money to a company that, when I looked it up, sells cookware. Wouldn't you be suspicious?

It’s funny that I feel so relieved and yet, I’m still so blasted annoyed; now, to put my last two nickels together to pick “Beni” up.

The Department of Hacienda levies and collects the excise tax to import a car. They have a nifty gizmo on the website to estimate the tax. You fill in the VIN or make, model and year. They give you a tax estimate. How nice to know before heading out, and remember I don’t have a phone, so, I’m thrilled with anything I can do over the internet.

Don’t you just know that gizmo DID NOT WORK? I went through the instructions over and over with a check sheet, so I wouldn't miss a step. I thoroughly wanted to be ready to go to San Juan Monday morning.  

Tension: being at the end of your credit wondering if you’re going to make it; that about sums it up. I’d love waiting until Monday, if I were a masochist.

On the bright side I’m going to spend a couple of days with my very good friend Adri at her home in Carolina. We can walk to the beach. She goes swimming with a pack of rescue dogs.

That’s what I need: a dog packed vacation. Enjoy your day. Thanks for reading.  

No Car, No What!

The hauler phone number didn’t match the number on the website. It’s a day later; still don’t know where my car is.

My quest for patience gave way to panic hours ago. We’re retired, we can’t replace this stuff, the way we could when we were younger. To tell the truth, I would have never taken losing my car well.

Transporting Beni is digging into the very last of our resources. Oh, gee, another cause for panic; paying for it!

Internet piracy happens all the time. Heavens, I could get paranoid without really trying.

I love Puerto Rico. It’s worth all the difficulty to be in a tropical garden with the lake, the mountains, and the rock formations. Remind me of that later.

My neighbor, who speaks only Spanish, our contact for the phone company just told me Claro called. Twenty questions and google translate later; I’m not getting my phone for five to six weeks because the house no longer has a line. Could life get any better?

Shit, I can’t afford a cell phone, right now. The phone line is $25 a month. That was doable. It never occurred to me that I’d be sweating such small amounts, but here it is. Damn, I wish Claro would have told me about the phone line when they told me we couldn’t get internet here. We’ve been without a phone for a month.

So, I just got an email from the shipper, NO, your car is at Sea Star, will leave port on the such and such; just an invoice.

The agent handling this had a great sales personality. He should have saved some of that personality for his customer service.

The shipper’s website proudly displayed Visa, Master Card and American Express, but these people keep asking for cash transfers. I filled out the form on the website to track my vehicle before I received the email, so I assume they are connected, a small relief.

Guess I’ll pay the hauler and get a cell phone.

SUV Shipping Blues

Patience, that asset often eludes me. Being dreadfully long on imagination at times, I can see my Mercedes, SUV getting off the ship somewhere far away. 

We named the 1998 ML, Beni, so we’re talking old friend.

Last week the shipper and hauler were all over me to pay a COD bill on pick up and the shipper was requesting final balance actually before they had done anything physical like picking the vehicle up. Was it just an efficient routine?

COD was settled to be at delivery today. I am expecting to receive an email telling me that Beni arrived at Sea Star parking lot in Jacksonville, Florida, and pay up.

If Beni were a child, it would be time to call an Amber Alert, but Beni is a car, so prudence dictates waiting.

The shipper is a BBB, Better Business Bureau Member in good standing. Their website is fabulous. The hauler has a sharp, if anonymous web site. I don’t like company sites that don’t mention a single human being.

As on top of things as these folks were last week, I am staggered to report not a peep out of them this week. What should I think about this?

Sea Star has an online tool to check cargo whereabouts. Beni hasn’t been checked in yet. How long should I wait?

My thought is if they are legit, they'll want their money , so we'll hear from them. If not, it's already too late. 

     

Isla del Encanto: WARNING!!

                  

They’re called “Panaderias”, the equivalent of mom and pops small town bakery/quickie grocery store. Panaderias are found in every pueblo on the island.

Those of you over a certain age will know what I am talking about, maybe; your neighborhood still has one. 
These Panaderias hit my hot spot for nostalgia. Suddenly, I am a little girl again looking at the coin-op pony in the corner.

North Americans are frequently a tad out of their comfort zone upon first entering. I’ve seen it over the years here, hell, I’ve been it. With luck, someone in the store will speak English, or want to practice their English.

The sometimes locals' surprised looks  tell me they haven’t seen a foreigner in a while.
 In my, I don’t know Jack, stage of Spanish, “Hola,” a smile and hand wave got me through purchases. People can be so amazingly friendly.

                                   CAUTION 
Stay away from the warm, homemade bread. Stay Away from the home made donuts. The hot pastrami made in front of you should NEVER pass your lips.

Each panaderia has its own best donut or pastry. Fresh bread will not allow you to walk out. Smells so good, you must have some. I’ve eaten sandwiches, when I wasn’t hungry, but they were so good. I was powerless. My mouth is watering while I write this.

If you’re in Puerto Rico save your money, eat where the locals eat, but be very careful there is a chronic disease called Ican’tpassapanaderia. It will enchant your taste buds, and leave you helpless.

I am officially under its spell and my bottom line is showing it. 
This is the real Puerto Rico.