miércoles, 9 de marzo de 2011

da montains




Jan 12
                Next, I packed up my things and headed towards dewey, the small town where the ferry stops, and learned that the ferry doesn’t come until 1pm so I had 3 hours to kill and decided to go snorkeling, and it was one of the best decisions I have made this trip. I walked out to town to playa melons and witnessed some spectacular coral reef. There were fish of all colors, shapes, and sizes, all sorts of coral from balls to fans to sponges, stingrays, huge fish lurking under the reef, and a needle nosed fish that followed me around wherever I went, which was a little scary. I wish I had an underwater camera! When I came back to shore, I met a cute girl from ponce and asked here some advice. She was nice and gave me some good tips, but she had a boyfriend from califas who was snorkeling  in the water.  She explained to me why the students at the University where I was going to study were on strike, and I understood completely. The university hiked up tuition 800 dollars this semester for errors in administration that the students had no part in. She said the University pays for the president’s chefs, maids, and exquisite, luxurious gatherings.  When it started raining, I went back to dewey. I left for the ferry at 1, and arrived in fajardo at 2:30.




the culebra I drove on













testament to the dangers of the road






After asking a local who was looking for drug money, which I learned after I gave him some change, I directioned myself down the east coast and then towards the mountains along the infamous ruta panoramica. Suddenly, Puerto Rico transformed from a small island to a neverending maze of  one and a half lane roads, fog, and dense jungle. I didn’t see the ocean for 2 days and thought I was in the heart of the amazon.  The first night in the ruta panoramica I learned how crazy Puerto Rican drivers are, and how narrow a road can be while people race past blind curves with racecar mentality. I passed the the carite forest, then to guaniche during the sunset for some of the fabled lechon asado, or roasted pig on a spit. There I was greeted by one ridiculously overweight local and another large on that obviously loved lechon.  They were, however, the friendliest people I had ran into so far and I could feel the different atmosphere of the mountains. It seemed divinely less American, and wholly more latin. I, at times thought I was in the depths of the Colombian highlands, but only 10 miles from the coast. I kept driving after the friendly encounter with locals who fed me cheap (4$) and gave me all sorts of other food to try for free. The drive through the central cordillera was rough and consuming on the mind, as I was constantly getting lost and cringing around blind corners and waiting for a head on collision. Finally, I saw some great night views and halted in the scary toro negro forest reserve. I felt alone and at the mercy of nature here, as the night howled on and the creepy crawlies made some impressive sounds. I slept in my car again and woke up the next morning at at 7 am to get an early start up the roof of Boricua, el cerro de punta at almost 4000 feet(funny that the tallest peak in PR is less than the lowest elevation in Colorado, but it feels higher).  I was blessed by a brilliant sunrise and fantastic views in all directions, drove up the two surrounding peaks to take pics, and finally hiked up cerro de punta for the grand finale. It was a nice short, steep hike through a bit of jungle to the top that was littered with radio towers. To my jolly luck  the fog cleared when I made it to the top and I was presented with a wondrous view in 360 degrees of this enchanted island that was partly shrouded by a veil of clouds. I felt like I was on the top of the world with the clouds beneath me and everything I had seen up to this point below. I took some artistic photos and did 50 pushups, and headed down around 9AM






route up the mountain
Next  on the list was a day trip to jayuya, the heralded least Americanized city in PR. What I planned to see there was the coffee plantation San Pedro and the piedra escrita, which is a large boulder in the river with taino petroglyphs carved into it. Through yet some more strenuous driving and losing myself  about 3 more times, I finally made it to jayuya and walked through the center of town. It was sunny and there was a quaint little plaza in the center. I took the steps up to the centro cultural where I saw Spanish artifacts such as rifles and hoes, and also many pieces of art from the taino, the indigenous peoples of the island. Everywhere I could feel an indigenous vibe, and saw how the people clung to the last thread of their indigenous roots. No, this was not the resort beach town of San juan, this was the crumbling heart of Boricua that pumped reality and nostalgia. Neither was it Ecuador where a large percentage of the population is indigenous. As always things were confusing but here everything seemed clearer.
the hike up to the roof of PR













looks like the roof of the world
encapsulating sunrise


I followed up the road and stopped when I saw a rare hawk in the river, and a local stopped me by the name of noamo to chat. He proceeded to tell me he was stationed in fort carson, CO and let me inside his house. We chatted a bit and he invited me for a taste of his home brew moonshine made from sugar cane and marinated in tropical fruits. It was strong and heavy, but tasted great.  Then I moved onto the piedra escrita, saw some nice petrogrlyphs and jumped from the top of the boulder(about 20 feet) into the river below.  Following up the road, I arrived at the coffee finca named San Pedro and chilled out in the museum and coffee house. I walked around the finca exploring, but soon found out they didn’t want me in the fields, so I returned to the museum with a freshly picked orange bulging out of my pocket.  The girl working the coffee house served me some of their organic coffee, which was very rich and robust in flavor. All around I could smell the aroma of roasted coffee beans, and in this, I returned mentally back to my adventures in Colombia.  I talked with the girl for a ratito about psychology and she explained to me that everyone is crazy, and that normal really doesn’t exist. I then walked back to my car and checked the rental for scratches that  I was almost sure existed from the treacherous mountains, and a man in his jeep started speaking to me randomly. He was born in Pr but moved to Chicago when he was young, got married at 23, and visited PR with his wife, deciding to stay forever. I guess island fever can be depicted as an addiction as well.

cemi, wood figures that the taino used to make for adoration










iglesia de jayuya


After a long 2 days in the mountains to cool off after a crazy sunburn, I was ready to head back to the coast again via Ponce, the pearl of the south.  When I arrived, I checked out downtown, which was nice with its colonial architecture, and headed to the boardwalk, where all of the locals gather to drink and eat fast food for the sunset. Sadly, the boardwalk was dead due to the rain plaguing the coast of Ponce.  Now, I’m here, cyphening internet at hotel belgica catching up on all of the lost days without a computer or a phone, in a twisted, backwards environment that some can call the real Puerto rico. 


la piedra escrita
fruteria

1 comentario:

  1. haha I can't believe this page really exists! Pics are amazing, so jealous!

    - Dani Ortiz; The Smartest Waitress in the World :D

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