Isla del Encanto Yin and Yang

Doctor appointments, nurse and therapist visits dot the calendar like dandelions in spring. Thank God, Puerto Rico doesn’t have dandelions! Impromptu trips to the ER in San Juan have been their own special brand of hell, leaving us spent in the wake.

Our home in Guajataca has special healing energy, the lake, the mountains; we thrive after surgery. Kirt’s incision is healing beautifully. Last year in New Orleans the other leg, toe amputation took forever, and hyper bariatric treatments, to heal.  My surgeries have also healed better once I got here.  

Kirt comforted a dying puppy holding it close to him in the final hours. He stared at the lifeless rear end with red eyes brimmed with tears. I could feel the strong gift of energy Kirt gave the pup to no avail. The little head gazed at him with peaceful eyes half closed, until just before the end she cried, loudly. I’m just a puppy. I don’t want to die. Slumped in his chair Kirt rolled to the bedroom.

 The concept of yin and yang works in hyper drive here. Pointless trips to San Juan followed by other trips, exuberant praise from doctors genuinely surprised to see his progress. Sadly, it only pisses me off to know how much they wrote him off. I am glad that they seem to be sincerely preparing him for the new leg. The prospect is renewing. When he can think past the pain and shit, he smiles as he talks about walking again.

Speaking of smiles, if puppies make us smile, this is Puerto Rico, La Isla del Encanto, hold on another puppy is under a van at the bottom of our driveway as we speak.  Let’s get him before a car does.

We have a new puppy. Aren’t we lucky? And so Lucky he is.  

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

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.