boricua round 2

Second day in PR san juan, friday

Today I woke up way too late and will probably be sleeping late thanks to starbucks being the only internet café in town and a double shot of espresso that they call something like catrocito. I can hear the thumping of reggaeton from my hostel, which I moved to the San juan guest house, little bit shadier, a little bit more latin. The man’s name is castro and his cleaning lady has been working here for 40 years.

I did a great deal today considering the traffic and the hastle of moving to another place for the night. I met some great people that gave me lots of advice on PR, but most notably I met a girl from Ecuador. She reminded me of a simpler, more timid people that seem more inner driven. I recognized her accent and her aura, and without consciously knowing it, I my behaviors modeled that of when I was in the mountains of Ecuador.  I recognized that a lot of souvenirs were from otavalo, the large factory in northern Ecuador that makes anything from bags to bracelets. I even bought a bracelet that was the same exact as I had bought in Ecuador.

 When I walked in she was trying to dial a number and I snuck up behind her and punched a number in her phone flirtily. I don’t think I would have done that to a borincua, because I might have been slapped. The Puerto Ricans seem to have a more powerful force around them, and seem to not take “no crap from nobody”, but these are just initial stereotypes.

So what I did today is I slapped on a bus ride to nowhere, actually a place called isla verde, which I found out is a really touristy beach east of san juan. The water was perfect, the women were nice, and my Spanish bocadillo was satisfying, but I was missing a beer that was so cold it was slushy, something I had last night with some fried papas rellenos in the plaza near the Puerto. Cruising in the bus we drove past some more authentic places, marked by graffiti and a shady side street with stray cats.

I’m looking up right now in my hostel and the fan looks like its going to fall apart and chop me in half.

Anyway, when I got back to SJ,  I took the tourist trolly around the city for sunset and enjoyed pasting on my hawaiin shirt and large camera, sometimes you have to let go and purposely label yourself a tourist when you realize no matter what you do they know your not from around here. But at least when I try I can fool the extranjeros. I’m excited to be going to the rio piedras campus tomorrow and take the tren urbano to see a different side of SJ. Maybe even a publico, I don’t know. For now, my party sense is tingling and I have to leave this 11:00 room and get outside before I torture myself for not going out. The bongos are calling me. Is it ok for a man to go out alone, right??? Why not..

Just got back… 2:20 AM not too late. With salsa, bachata, and the all to familiar reggaeton still pulsing my ears I come back to the hostel thinking of all the beautiful women. Not bad for a night alone, but I did make one stupid fatal mistake.  I approached the hottest girls I could find and when ready I came up to them and said, “hola chicas” that’s it. In my creepy decree, I failed to say anything after that to save myself or at least make them laugh. I left the awkward situation marinate so I had to leave back to the bar and get a couple more drinks. This is not me, why was it so easy to look like a newborn fawn in front of drop dead gorgeous Latinas? I’d like to have that one back as ole George puts it, but I still brush it off chuckling silently to myself pondering how funny humanity is at it’s core. Just like in the discovery channel the mate, though discretely in the homo sapien nature, displays his array of feathers and superior genes at the first encounter to get the female. I failed, but I learned. I will probably never see those chicks again, and I realized I deserved rejection for the manner in which I behaved myself. I don’t want to be the guy that looks like a sleazebag and never knows when enough is enough, but I don’t want to be the wimp that sits in the corner of the bar like a creep and doesn’t muster up the courage to talk to any women. It’s only Friday night so I have another in this wonderful latin city of san juan. Are there going to be this many good looking women in Mayaguez?.I’ve seen worse, Spanish girls wouldn’t even acknowledge my presence until I weaseled my way into one of their “groups” so I consider myself lucky here in Boricua.

Me gustaria volver a la calle para medalla que vale solamente un pavo , pero yo tengo que dormir para que no gaste demasiado chavo ni me acueste muy tarde. Mis planes son grandes mañana y quiero hacer mucho antes de que me vaya de san juan, asi que descanso yo en paz, dándome cuenta que las nenas todavía están bailando.  Por lo menos yo se donde conseguir unas latas baratas y bien frias y estudiantes  universitarios locos.

Solo deme una hamaca, una puertorriqueña, una playa, y una medallita y la vida esta completa.