Puerto Rico, day two
El Yunque, Coquis, Seafood...
July 31, 2008
By Joshua Anderson
6:00 a.m.
I wake up - "Oh yeah! I'm in Puerto Rico!" The alarm next to my bed is blaring Salsa music. Instantly I am out of my bed and at the window, and the and the answer to the question of whether or not I will be able to get up early is answered. I throw on my jogging shoes and shorts and head downstairs.
6:15
Within minutes I'm a block away from the hotel -- as far as I'd gotten the night before on my walk -- looking at the ocean another half a block away that the night had hidden from me previously. I run straight for it, laughing. Where the waves are lapping against the shore, I kneel to scoop up some sand and saltwater, laughing like a land-locked madman. Inevitably, the next wave comes, soaking me to the knees. The few locals up that early laugh at me. It's okay because I'm looking at a Puerto Rican sunrise.
8:00
The San German & Kansas folks are congregating in the lobby, having consumed large quantities of build-your-own omelettes. Our destination that morning is El Yunque National Forest, a couple hours East and South. We pile in the (new) white 15 passenger van, eager to get going. After a few U-turns we're half a mile away, at a Pueblo store, getting supplies. I'm antsy. I want to see the Rainforest.
Noonish
We arrive at the visitor's center. It's raining. This is okay, because we are in a Rain Forest. The film they show is great - it is here that I learn about the Taino petroglyphs, ancient native rock carvings now immortalized on T-Shirts, bumper stickers and billboards.
The Tainos were the indigenous inhabitants of the island prior to the colonization by the Spanish. I ask where they were now, what the state of the native population was, etc. I learn that there are only a handful of Taino families left on the island. It struck me as amazing that they had been completely wiped out, until it dawned on me that the island is slightly larger than Rhode Isand and Delaware, compared to the continental landscape of the mainland.
The most common petroglyph around was the image of the Coqui, an inescapable feature and symbol of Puerto Rico. The Coqui is a tiny frog, brown in color (don't get the green ones from the airport), who emits an unforgettable song, which is where it gets its name. The Coqui song is very popular on the island, which makes sense seeing as how it is heard almost everywhere all the time, even from electronic sources: my friend Eric told me the Coqui I heard in the bushes outside the hotel was actually a recording for the Tourists, and on more than one occasion I heard a Coqui ringtone. Which, I might add, is awesome.
Afternoonish...
Descending into El Yunque, time seems to stand still -- or go backwards -- and I feel like I'm in the Great Valley ala "The Land Before Time," my daughter's favorite movie, and I desperately wish my family could see this. Again, many of my experiences in Puerto Rico are informed by my life-long Kansan status, and the rain forest, like the ocean, seems almost magic to me.
Eventually we get to the bottom of the trail that ends in a bridge overlooking La Mina waterfall, in which people are swimming. We join in the fun. The water is a bit cold, but the sensation of being in a waterfall in the rainforest is exhilarating. Eventually we begin the hike back up, my mind still reeling from the beauty of El Yunque.
The road down from El Yunque is predictably as nauseating as it was on the way up, especially from the backseat of a giant, white 15-passenger van, so I lay down and close my eyes. Twice, on the way down, we stop: once at La Coca falls for a photo op, and once at the Yohuka Tower. I continue to be mesmerized by it all.
photo: La Coca waterfall in El Yunque National Forest
?:?? p.m.
Eventually we make it back to the hotel, which for me means "hit the beach," which I do. It hasn't been exceptionally sunny, but the climate is wonderfully temperate. The beach becomes my second hotel room...
That evening we dine on the upper deck of an an amazing restaurant, Soleil, in Loiza. It is explained to me that the area is known for its restaurants, and this night is relatively quiet (it is a Tuesday). Lights from porches and backrooms (it's hard to tell when you're indoors or outdoors sometimes here) are thrown on the sandy roadways, a dog wanders here and there, the crashing of the nearby waves an ever-present backdrop to the scene. From our seat we can make out the white foam of the waves against the night, outside against the palm trees the moon slowly makes its way across the sky. I try the Seafood Pasta, which blows my mind. The ride home quickly transforms into a Latin-music dance party, our large, white 15-passenger van having been equipped with a dance floor before our arrival. We cruise through Old San Juan on the way back, getting a glimpse of its historic buildings and nightlife -- nobody wants to go to sleep, yet. Music blares and the tropical humidity flows in and out of large colonial doorways, left wide open. Like I said, its hard to tell when you're indoors or outdoors here.
That night I slept heavy in my bed, exhausted, thinking "this is only day one..."
To come: Rio Camuy Cave Park, Arecibo Observatory, Salsa music and more!
- the black rabbit
p.s. Congratulations to all the McNair Scholars who have presented and completed their Summer Research Internship! And a big thank you to the McNair staff for their leadership. You can all now enjoy your summer. Finally.
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