SAN JUAN, PUERTO RICO May, 2011

Larry took me to San Juan, Puerto Rico for my lalalala birthday. We stayed at the Sheraton in the heart of Old San Juan. From our suite we could see San Cristobal Castle, the largest fort built by the Spanish in the New World.  When we toured the fortress castle, we stood in a dungeon prison 5 x20 feet, and the guard turned off the light. A tiny slit let light in. Prisoners there subsisted in bread and water; most prisoners died within a few years.

We stood on the balcony of our suite and saw huge cruise ships docked a block away, the amazing hues of the Atlantic Ocean, government buildings, and locals walking to work or play. We toured Old and New San Juan, ate in locals’ favorite restaurants, walked on the brick streets to shops and small city parks, and shopped at local businesses.

Larry bought a handmade hat, and I, of course, bought brightly colored clothing and jewelry so I could blend in with the female population. Adorned with big costume jewelry and heavily scented perfumes, local women dressed colorfully and beautifully, walked on high wedged shoes or stilettos as they walked to shops or to work. I bought a pair of zebra wedge shoes that I will wear using a jeweled cane to keep me from falling on my -----.

Our second day there we got an early start walking on streets by 9 a.m. Although store signs posted opening time as 9 a.m., local businesses opened arbitrarily –some at 10 a.m., at 10:30 a.m., at 11 a.m. we drank coffee at local coffee shops. Coffee in Puerto Rico is robust and strong, almost like espresso, and is often served with steamed milk.

We took a taxi to Plaza Las Américas Shopping Mall San Juan, a whopping 2.1 million square feet shopping center, boasting over 300 shops. We are friends with the former store manager of the J.C. Penney store there. It is the number one Penney’s store in the United States and the largest mall in the Caribbean. This must be what heaven is like.

The cosmetic department covers almost an entire floor, and cosmetics are sold in every department.That must be why Puerto Rican women are so beautiful. Larry spoke with an Assistant Manager, a Puerto Rican woman who told us about the layout of the store. Larry bought shirts and a pair of sandals. Much of the merchandise I saw looked very similar to stores in the US.

Our first venture to a restaurant/nightclub, LATIN ROOTS, a Salsa club near our hotel included locals and tourists. We ordered succulent roasted pork, rice mixed with beans, root vegetables, salads, drank refreshing mojitoes and local beer. A pound of roasted pork covered with crispy skin was served on a platter. The meat reminded us of a Cajun boucherie.

A sign posted on the door of the restaurant read FREE SALSA LESSONS 6 p.m. At 8:00 Lessons began.

I quickly volunteered to dance with a male Salsa dancer. Salsa is a combination of cha cha, twirls, and hip movements. The music is a blend of Spanish, African, and Latin American sounds. The songs are lengthy.

I kept up with the dance steps, but after 15 minutes, I was delirious, and my side hurt. That lovely young man with slick black hair and swiveling hips dipped me to the floor as I held my breath. I thanked him. We were the only couple on the floor. I told Larry to give him a big tip as I tried to breathe and recuperate.

 Later, Larry accompanied me on the dance floor as locals twirled and gyrated. He danced like a tourist; at one point, he started doing THE JERK, while I gyrated and twirled with the locals. Later that night I developed a pain in my side and had to recuperate in a hot bath with a tequila shooter and various local remedies. It was all worth it.

On Sunday we took a taxi to the Cathedral of San Juan Bautista, the second oldest cathedral in the Western Hemisphere, just three blocks from our hotel because it was raining. I wore a dress and heels, and noticed the taxi driver was taking us through the entire city thinking we were stupid tourists. I told him CATHEDRAL, made my SIGN OF THE CROSS, and said, “llévenos a la masa en la cathedral.”

He pretended he did not understand. When we arrived at the Cathedral, I was livid. Larry walked across the street to a hotel to find a hotel employee who could speak English and Spanish. After getting nowhere, I told Larry to pay him the $20 with no tip, and I asked a local who spoke English and Spanish to say to him: “rogaré para su alma porque usted va derecho al infierno.” [I will pray for your soul because you are going straight to hell.]


Lest you think i travel as THE UGLY AMERICAN, I assure you, when I travel, I much prefer hanging out with locals rather than venturing out to consort with the bourgeois. I try to speak the language, and I am friendly and kind. I do not, however, feel justified in letting a business person take advantage of me.


Back to the cathedral----The Cathedral was not air conditioned. Fans bolted 10 feet high on the beautiful marble columns cooled us. As the three priests and four altar servers entered, one of the servers swung the thurible so incense could purify us.

The Catholic Church still uses incense in accordance with prophecy of Malachias, the fragrant smoke symbolizing our prayers rising to Heaven and purifying what it touches. Incense was used throughout this mass.

The homily lasted 50 minutes. I could imagine men at our church looking at their watches and signaling the priest that a sports event was soon to happen. No congregant seemed to mind as everyone listened attentively to the priest’s loud, fiery, chastising sermon which I gathered with my limited Spanish, was about sin and retribution. Imagine that.

After mass, the rain increased, but we both had umbrellas, and I insisted we walk back to the hotel. We stopped at a local market to buy fruit, at a boutique drug store where I bought two hats and jewelry, and Larry bought alcohol and chocolates.

We stopped at a Subway, went back to the hotel and watched movies until the rain stopped. Later we went to a local bar with just 10 barstools and drank freshly made pina coladas as we viewed pictures and artifacts of Marilyn Monroe covering the walls. The story is that a previous owner loved was enthralled with Marilyn Monroe, so locals contributed to his collection. A lazy cat slept on a stool by the door and a sign said that he had his own FACEBOOK page.

This is a wonderful city and the trip was  a great birthday present.