Wrapping Up Puerto Rico

You may be surprised (and frightened) to read that the events of the previous (six) stories of my visit to Puerto Rico makes up only the first half of my trip.  But fear not, this wrap-up is just what it promises.

Revisiting Parguera was a big part of why I took this trip and has taken up most of my soliloquy, but the main reason was to visit this fellow sitting across the table.  Miguel is my (art) mentor; one of my partners in the gallery; and a constant source of friendship and encouragement.  He experienced some medical concerns last year, but I'm happy to report that he's much, much better.

Nellie still works for a pharmaceutical firm, so during the day Miguel and I would talk, laugh and contemplate the universe for hours.  He's a deep thinker and I respect his point of view.  On the way to dropping me off at James & Nancy's place in Parguera, we stopped at a roadside restaurant (top) where I enjoyed Mofongo with Churrasco (Skirt Steak), a kind of stew often topped with a platano crust like a pot pie.  At least that's the way I describe it.

As I sat there pigging I felt like I really lived on the island again.  There was no sense of time, limited as it was, when I was with my friends.  Could I live here again? Only time will tell.

In addition to being an accomplished artist, Miguel enjoys composing poetry. (Photo:  Miguel paints using geometric shapes, so you have to concentrate in order to recognize the subject:  here in Scream, look for the man in the center.)  Miguel enjoys my stories and for a long time has wanted to put his own words 'out there' in a blog. 

But his computer knowledge is limited, so I figured getting him started was the least I could do to repay his hospitality.  We began with the basics, like "Where's the backspace" but he is determined; and so with my hand-written notes handy, he's been able to continue on his own.  He's a bit unsure of his translation from Spanish to English and I'm no help there, so I told him to go ahead and publish in Spanish if he wants...the idea is to get it out of your system, and there's lots of Spanish speakers.  This took a number of days, you can imagine, but at least he's off and running with Saludos Hoy.

My friend was surprised when I said,

"I don't know why you speak to me as if I understand Spanish."  (He often switches on me mid-sentence.)

"You DO!  You know what I'm saying..."  After 12 years immersed in island life, it's a natural assumption.

"No, I don't.  I fake it well, I guess."  I can often figure out the gist of something, but I've never been good at languages.

Miguel and Nellie came to pick me up after 3 days, and following lunch with my Parguera pals, I said goodbye to my old home.  Here's a shot from the hill heading out of town.  Nice, huh?

On the way home we stopped in Boqueron, which was the landing spot of Ruff Life back in '98.  It's much more built-up and crowded, but that was pretty much what I saw throughout the island.  All over the world, I suppose.

(Photo: I didn't trust the oyster carts on the streets back then because I didn't see any ice.  I may be wrong, but I passed on partaking this time, too.  I'm not crazy about oysters anyway.)

Back in '98, Cap and I were offered an opportunity which excited him more than me:  running the guesthouse Wildflowers, with Cap running the bar and me preparing lunch and dinner and cleaning the rooms.  You can read that story here.

Seeing the B&B still standing was a surprise; as was everything else once familiar.  While Nellie and Miguel made their selection, I stood like a tourist, turning in a circle, picturing life here 25 years ago.

We drove by the house of one of Nellie's good friends, who I also knew.  Nilza's husband, Ken Keeler, was a terrific photographer.  Nilza helped with the matting and framing, and they frequented the same festivals I did.

The Keelers, the Captain and I spent a weekend in the YMCA in Maricao, along with 40-50 fellow Artesans, for the annual three-day coffee festival.  We camped out on the gym floor.  Ken and Nilza were lucky enough to snag the stage area with only 2 other couples.  They had a hotplate and everything, I can still visualize.  I was the only one who created partial walls, which offered a bit of privacy but didn't muffle the snoring and other nighttime sounds.  The things you do to make a buck.

I'd gone to their house so Ken could take photos of my early work and turn them into slides, required for something I was entering at the time.  That sort of thing isn't done anymore because of digital everything, but I'm glad I still have those slides, since Ken has passed away, too.

I was surprised to see an explosion of RV's on the island.  It's certainly a cheap way to live, but considering the heat and lack of shade in many places, it's got to feel like an oven.  I understand many people rent them, especially close to the water.  But hell, everywhere on the island is close to the water, it's only about 40 miles N-S and 110 E-W.

2009

In addition to visiting her mother each weekend, every evening Nellie calls her Mom and puts her on speakerphone so Milagros can share in their lives.  I don't know why I didn't call my Mom more often before she passed.  Lame excuses are all I have...don't make my mistake.

2023

So we drove up to Milagro's one last time, and I said goodbye to the Grand Dame and my adopted brothers.  She's still going strong in her 90's, and I hoped our farewell wasn't the last.  It didn't feel like the last.  I suppose that's how it is - we meet them again in life or afterwards.  Nellie's already told her bro's that I'm moving there.

I said farewell to Nellie, with whom I'd grown closer, and Miguel and I drove north to stay at Marco's house the night before I left, so it would be an easy trip to the airport the next morning.  This photo captures the essense of Nellie and Miguel's relationship:  verbally sparring but always loving, the Bickering Bickersons, I call them.  They don't take things too seriously.

As it turned out, my flight out of San Juan was delayed so I missed my connection in Atlanta.  But Delta put me up in a nice hotel, and I landed during the day instead of the midnight arrival originally booked, what was I thinking?

Andrea's Legacy

After I left, Nellie texted a photo she snapped of a piece of 'art' I picked out of the trash in Boqueron.  Miguel shared my enthusiasm but Nellie was not as thrilled.  I intended to bring it home but it didn't fit in my suitcase so I assumed it returned to the trash, until I read:

Andrea's Legacy, proudly hung in their bathroom.  I can think of no greater honor.  What an end to a fabulous vacation!

To read from the beginning:  Reconnecting with Puerto Rico