I went to Puerto Rico last week for a conference. Puerto Rico is a small island in the Carribean. It is also a territory of the US. I think this means they vote in elections but it doesn't count towards anything. Apparently, the senate would only invite them to join the US proper upon consideration of their voting preferences. That means if PR applied to become a state then their application would be refused if the senate felt PR would upset the delicate balance between Democratic and Republican states.
I landed in San Juan, on the north of the island and the conference was in Ponce, the south of the island. It took about 90 min to drive from one side of the island to the other. Along the way, we travelled through sub-tropical forest, mountains and desert plains. It is quite varied but on the whole reminded me of north coast New South Wales or Queensland. For that reason I couldn't stop smiling for about four hours after landing. I'm sure I could feel the endogenous opioids running through my veins.
Ponce has about 200,000 people and is the second largest city in PR. It is a seedy little town, where everything is complicated - getting a drink, getting from A to B, finding information, etc etc. The bars and nightclubs are open odd hours (midnight until dawn), taxis don't run, the shops close with no indication, service is hard to find, there is little or no public transport. When we got there, we were greeted by the Mayor. They were very pleased to be hosting an international conference in neuroscience. He told us all about the city. There is a saying in Ponce, made famous by the late Mayor "Churumba" : Ponce is Ponce, everything else is parking. They are very proud of their seedy little town.
I didn't have much time to spend sightseeing but there were one or two highlights. On the first night of the conference we had a dinner on the terrace of a Castille in the old district. Afterwards there was a band, a performance by Salseras and Salseros, and dancing. I had spotted a gorgeous puerto rican girl and i spent about 2 hours just watching her dance. Well, actually, my friends made fun of me while I tried to work up the courage to ask her to dance. It was unanimously decided that I had no testicles. Anyway, eventually I spoke to her and she was really friendly and invited me out with her and her friends that night. Her name was Jasmine and I could have quite happily spent the rest of the evening staring into her eyes and basking in the smell of her patchouli oil. Actually, that is pretty much what I did because my spanish isn't real good and her english wasn't so hot, so conversation was a bit limited. But that didn't stop her asking me out the next night - which was the annual Ponce carnival.
The carnivale entails a parade, salsa music and dancing, and a beauty contest. The contestants paraded down the main street and occassionally the whole procession would come to a halt when one of the girls stopped for an admirer - or tourist taking a photo. They really loved the camera! I was watching the band with my friends thinking that Jasmine wasn't going to show when I smelt her perfume and then saw her standing about 10 feet away. I don't think she wears a lot of perfume, i just think I am particularly sensitive to the smell of patchouli oil (patchouli, girls and I have a long history). So I went over and said hello and she says hi then introduces me to her mother! Her mother is probably 40 but looks 30 and is gorgeous as well. Anyway, mum doesn't waste anytime informing that she is spending the evening with her daughter and no gringo blow-in from the continent is going to get in the way of that. i took the hint and retired to a bar with my friends.
The thing about Jasmine is she is just really friendly. She comes over to the bar and tells me to come and dance with her mother. Being polite, I couldn't refuse and so went to face the dragon a second time. Well . . . let me just say I have been in some strange situations but nothing has topped this. Mum starts dancing with me and I reciprocate as best as my anglo hips will allow. Some PRs notice the skinny white boy trying to shake it and they gather around and start clapping and cheering me on. This encourages mum and she starts grinding her hips against mine, rubbing herself all over my leg and thrusting her bottom into my lap. My friends have noticed the spectacle by this point and they are laughing and urging me on as well. That is, until someone points out that I'm dancing with Jasmine's mum and Jasmine (and her younger brother) are standing on the side watching. Eventually, her mum starts putting her hands where she shouldn't and I politely, as best I can, extricate myself from the situation. Everyone clapped me off the 'stage'. Not Jasmine, though. I'm not sure what she made of it but my spanish wasn't sophisticated enough to explain that all I really wanted to do was dance with her. Oh well, I'm sure it happens all the time south of the border (?!??).
We did eventually go out later that night, after mum was put to bed. Jasmine took us to a shanty little pub in the middle of nowhere with a stage, dancing girls and black people beating drums. It was buried deep within the slum district of Ponce. I didn't know anyone and there were stray dogs wandering around, kids playing in the dirt (it was after midnight), and people dancing any-old-how. I kept expecting to see men with guns and rifles. The music and the dancing and the alcohol were all quite overwhelming and if I hadn't been so drunk I would have been frightened (PR is a dangerous place - or so I'm told). I remember just taking a moment to look up at the stars and thinking how far away from everything I am.
Finally, I should mention, in case you were wondering; I did eventually get a dance with Jasmine. Then her boyfriend showed up. He was from Vermont so suddenly I was brought much closer to everything again.
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