The Good, the Bad, the Ugly and the . . . Agradable.
We have been here in Rincón for six weeks today. In some ways, it feels longer, and sometimes I feel like we just flew in on that 3 am flight – groggy and confused and excited. We’ve learned a few things in these six weeks; here’s to the good, bad, ugly and pleasing.
Our coche is fixed! Yes, it was just a busted hose, thank goodness. Hubs got it to the radiator man (recommended by Jennifer and Carlos of Rincon Car Finders) and he fixed it right up. Jennifer & Carlos went above and beyond to make sure we were taken care of and got what we needed; they even came by to check on things and offered to drive hubs home so he didn’t have to wait for the work to get done. Such nice people! A couple days later, we took the car to Willie, Jennifer & Carlos’ repair guy, and got an oil change, brake job AND had the aftermarket car alarm removed (you remember the car alarm that regularly locked us out of our own car?). The whole thing cost $100! Since then, this little lady has been running like a champ, which makes B happy.
What a relief!
El Buen Numero Dos: PUERTO RICO DOES NOT DO DAYLIGHT SAVINGS! This alone could make me want to move here. I really hate daylight savings, so hallelujah!
We are having our first rainy/stormy day here since we arrived 6 weeks ago, and we made a new discovery: the sliding glass door in our bedroom leaks, a lot, particularly when the wind is blowing the rain sideways into the door. We woke up this morning with water all over the floor, but weren’t sure how it got in. I sopped it up and we took the kids to school and when we got back it started raining again, and I watched the stream begin.
Considering it rains like this rarely (I think?), this is a small price to pay.
Y’all, it’s beautiful here, but there is trash everywhere. On the sides of the roads, on the beaches, in parking lots; everywhere broken glass and trash. My daughter stepped on a shard of broken glass over the weekend and cut her foot. I’m sure you can imagine the screeching that came when my blood-hating daughter picked up her foot and saw a slice of glass imbedded in the bottom of it, and blood dripping down. Thankfully for me, it looked much scarier than it was (a tiny cut really). We were at the beach, so we washed it in the ocean, and after some TLC, that was that.
Buuut, the kids absolutely hate the trash. It shocks them more than it shocks us, and they talk about it every time we go out and see litter everywhere. I also end up leaving wherever we go with a backpack full of beer caps, chunks of glass, plastic junk and can tabs (for some reason, people hang out here outside and break the tabs off the tops of their cans and throw them on the ground – like it’s going to make the ground prettier or something?). Everything they pick up, they hand to me, because moms make trash magically disappear! In any case, it’s sad to see so much litter in such a lovely place, and it will be the one thing my mom hates about Puerto Rico (hi Mom).
Living where no one knows me is agradable, as strange as that may sound. Friends back home have asked if I’ve made any new friends here and the answer is . . . no – and I may want to keep it that way.
Life feels so much simpler here because I don’t have any connections or commitments to anyone outside my nuclear family, and my boss. No one else expects anything of me. Not. One. Person. Have you ever thought about why being on vacation feels so relaxing? Is it partly because you know no one is expecting anything of you, the phone is not going to ring with demands, and your social calendar is clear? Being here, I have no friends to hang out with, no classrooms to bring food for, no playdates to take the kids to, no neighborhood meetings that I’m committed to, no birthday parties to buy crap for + rush to, and no extended family to visit. Nothing but the four of us.
It might sound lonely, but I love it. Just hovering around this place, not getting tied to anything or anyone, and when we’re gone – poof – I’ll disappear back to my people with all my new feathers floating me right outta here. At least that’s how I imagine it (best laid plans). We’ve got a ways to go, so maybe I’ll change my mind. For now, embracing my inner hermit is muy agradable and I only feel a tiny bit guilty about my selfishness.
Seriously, who needs commitments and connections when you have a place like this to discover?
Cheers to old friends and new discoveries.