Puerto Rico and The Return Home

Just past 3:30am on July 21st, I was waiting by the road for one of my danceteam partners to show up, almost ready for our trip to Puerto Rico. She picked me up, and we were on our way to the airport.

Our first flight took us straight to Denver, Colorado. A quick cruise down the moving sidewalks of this very straight airport, some of Auntie Anne’s pretzels, and we were on our way to our second stop in Washington D.C.

We had more time between flights in D.C. My first trip to the city in 2005 had really impressed me, so I wanted to see it again. After a bit of window shopping and lunch, I managed to convince my partner to take a shuttle bus to the main terminal where we could then take a train into the city. By the time we got there though, a quick look at the departure screen showed our flight was already boarding. A bit of running, and we made it back in time, but my partner didn’t seem too impressed with me.

We took a longer than expected route to Puerto Rico thanks to a storm on the ocean, but we made it by 11pm the same day. When I stepped out of the airport, I was greeted by the warm, dense, humid air, as it fogged up my glasses. We stood in line for a taxi, and not long after that we were in our condo room with our team director and the rest of the team that had showed up earlier that week. In even less time than that, we were given our options of things to do that same night. My flight danceteam partner decided to tour the pool and check out the opening dance. I just stayed back and rested. The day had just been way too long for me already.

With only a couple of interruptions that night, I managed to get enough rest to start my week in Puerto Rico without the headache I had before the trip.

The following morning, we were woken by the team again and told of plans to travel around the island. The two of us couldn’t get ready in time, so we stayed behind and made our own plans for the day. After some brunch at Burger King, and waiting in a bus shelter while heavy rain fell, we managed to flag down a bus with the help of a retired American and made our way to Old San Juan. In less than half an hour, the sun had come out, and we were walking along the docks by the old city. We wanted to cross the bay to get the Catano were there was supposed to be a festival, but being Sunday, the ferry we needed to take wouldn’t get there for another hour or so. So we took a quick tour of the old city in the meantime.

Once we caught the ferry, the rain had started again. And once we got across, it was too heavy to leave the docks. We ended up spending our time talking with the other stranded passengers, starring at the rain, trying to find a bus that would take us to the Bacardi tours (my partner’s motive for going to Catano), and stumbling across a couple’s anniversary celebration. We eventually found out that the buses weren’t running anymore that day, and that the festival wouldn’t start until later that evening. This brought an unexpected end to adventure to Catano, and had us travel back through the rain to Old San Juan. There we went searching for umbrellas and getting into an interesting conversation with a Singaporean shop owner who felt “close to us”. I didn’t end up buying an umbrella until only after venturing to the other coastline of the peninsula, and discovering the “sketchier” side of town and getting drenched in the process. The umbrella I ended up buying had the colours of the Puerto Rican flag and was big enough for two people. As losses happened in previous trips of mine, I lost the umbrella later in Washington D.C.

After some Puerto Rican fast food, and deep discussion on purpose and reason (don’t ask), we were on our way back to the condo. And naturally, we had to get lost. Using two common fast food places as our markers of where to get off the bus, we only realized we were in the wrong place after buying a bunch of groceries, and my partner stated that she didn’t recognize “the broken phone booths and random vagrants”. We taxied the rest of the way back, and ended up waiting for the last two members of our team to arrive that night, since they were to stay in our room. After venturing to get some more food, turning back half way to get our umbrellas, and then actually getting the food, we parted ways. She back to the condo, and I to the dance that night. One of our teammates eventually wrote to say their flight had been cancelled, and that they’d be there the next day. So, I went to get my danceteam partner, and we went to the dance together. There we met the rest of our team, and some other salseros (salsa dancers) from Edmonton, and danced the night away.

The next day we were only given a few minutes to get ready to make our first practice of the trip at 9am sharp. It apparently wasn’t one of our best rehearsals, but that was apparently ok. The afternoon was filled with dance workshops, meeting up with the rest of the team that had just arrived, going to the gym with our team director, and eating at Church’s Chicken (a fast food place like KFC, but instead of fries on the side, you get corn. I know, weird).

This part gets kind of confusing for me, because I’m not sure the order in which some of the things happened after this until the Wednesday. I believe on Monday my new roommates and I had our first “home cooked” dinner, and I spent the rest of the evening up until the dance that night alone in our room trying to catch up on writing about my experience so far, but ended up getting distracted by the Disney Channel instead. Yeah, so what?

Tuesday was the same routine in the morning and afternoon. After that, I think I went to the beach until 7pm, when the first performances of the congress were to start. Surprisingly, I found the skill level of the performers to be a little more varied than I had thought there would be in one of the top salsa congresses in the world. Nevertheless, it was good to watch. At night, there was another dance to take part in.

After our morning practice, and only one workshop on Wednesday, a group of us from the team got together to take a trip to Old San Juan. The girls naturally wanted to go shopping, and the guys, well I guess we went because of the girls (Actually, the plan was just to go have lunch there, but sometimes it makes for a better story to say otherwise). We waited for the bus for what seemed to be a very long time in the intense Puerto Rican heat, but eventually made it to a nice little restaurant in Old San Juan, had some food, and then went our separate ways to explore the old city. I went exploring with another guy from the group who seemed to be on a mission to get to one of the city’s most historic sites: El Campo del Morro. A large green space of small rolling hills with the old city wall on both sides, a beautiful cemetery (can I say that?) on one side, and a castle at the furthest point. The wind was strong there, and people were flying kites. The view of the ocean and the coastline reminded me a lot about Monaco. When we returned to the meeting point, we took a group picture and then made our way to the bus terminal, where we again had to wait so long in the Puerto Rican heat and the contained bus terminal heat, that I resorted to making abstract short films with my camera and my flight danceteam partner. But it didn’t stop there. On the bus ride back, the movies continued, and the laughs slowly spread to the rest of our group. I love it when that happens.

After a quick change in our room, we were off to watch that evening’s performances. This time, there were a lot more people watching, and the crowd took on a more sports event fan base. It was amazing. A lot of us ate out at Ponderosa (a salad bar buffet restaurant), and then headed for the dance that night. It was supposed to be a big night since the Latin singer Hector Lavoe was to be performing, but the bigger part of that night for my roommates and I, was that we would end up spending the night in one of the other condos the team had rented because one of us left our only key in our room. Actually, because of our team’s performance the following day, this event might have happened the previous night, but because our days were so filled with activities, it was hard to find time to write and keep track of what was going on. The rest of the trip I remember well.

On Thursday, I spent the morning watching most of the team practice for our first performance that afternoon. We were supposed to perform on Friday as well, but the second routine wasn’t quite confirmed yet. I was slotted for the second performance. Practice, workshops and the team’s first performance in Puerto Rico all finished before 5pm. The team did well. A bunch of us headed for the beach thereafter, where we did everything from swimming to beach model photo shoots (I wasn’t part of that in case you were wondering). The water was warm and very salty as it had been since the first day I experienced it. So much so, that it ended up deterring me from swimming to an island that was just off the coast (also, due to the fact that no one wanted to go with me). I quickly went to the other condo to pin my performance pants for the next day, and then headed to Ponderosa and the dance afterwards. I called it a night early, so I could get enough rest for the performance the following day.

After the morning routine on Friday, I made it back to our room for a quick lunch and nap before making it too the ballroom where we would be performing that day. After a few quick warm-ups and taking pictures with some of the other salseros from Edmonton, we watched their performance and then made our way outside to prepare for ours. I have to admit, there’s something about not being able to see your audience due to the dimmed lights that makes performing in front of hundreds of people a lot less frightening. I didn’t feel nervous at all.

After that, we took group pictures out by the pool and tossed up ideas of what to do to celebrate now that our performances were out of the way. A group of eight of us decided to explore more of the island. So, after renting a Jeep, we took off to Fajardo in eastern Puerto Rico to see a bioluminescent bay. With a quick stop for food, we made it there by night fall.

The sound of Merenge music from a small concrete shelter not far from the parking lot drew the four girls we were with. They danced with each other as a number of guys stood there watching. Within moments they grabbed them and my heart started to pound hard. This didn’t look like a friendly dance. Thankfully, the girls were able to break away themselves before anything could happen.

From there, we made it to the dock, got instructions on kayaking, got partnered up, and made our way to the bay. It was an interesting journey there, swimming among the luminescents once we got there, and the journey back. My kayak partner (also my flight danceteam partner) got pretty annoyed with my paddling and attempts at conversation by the end of it. Like one of the kayak instructors said, kayaks have also been known as “divorce boats”. I guess we got one of those. My partner also got bit by bugs that gave her what could have been “chickenpox herpes” according to a nurse in Washington D.C. (she only found out today that they were just sand fly bites. She’s doing better). A couple of us got some ice cream before heading back to San Juan.

9am Saturday morning was slated for a back to back workshop by Eddie Torres, the originator of On-2 style salsa dancing (for those of you who don’t know anything about that, don’t worry). I had never seen him before, so it was a little exciting for me. He turned out to be a rather large New Yorker probably in his 40s, who could easily have fit into a gangster movie from the 1950s. For the workshop, he wore an oversized black t-shirt with a large golden image on the front that included the words Legend in the bottom right-hand corner, and relatively tight pants. It was an interesting workshop. His dancepartner was his wife, and they flirted throughout it all.

I finished the workshops that day doing Cuban rumba. Very different from the ballroom rumba I learned in university. After that, our team and a few other salseros from Edmonton got together at a Mexican restaurant for lunch. From there, it was to the beach one last time; watching the final dance competition; a final meal in Puerto Rico with my roommates; a trip to the other condo to look at pictures and videos of our performances with some of the other salseros from Edmonton (probably the highlight of all the group time in Puerto Rico for me), and then off to the final dance that night. I called it a night around 3am, did a bit of packing and rested on my bed while the rest of my roommates packed their things for our trip back home later that morning.

At about 5:30am Saturday morning, the four of us got our things together into a taxi and left for the airport. Our first stop was in Washington D.C. once again. After some of Auntie Anne’s pretzels, we decided that five hours until our next flight was enough to go see the city. So we took the train, and toured as much as we could. When we got back to airport, we were told our flight was delayed, because the pilots were in Baltimore. Ok. So, we got some food and waited. When we realized we would miss our next connection out of Chicago, we inquired about staying the night there. Once we got to Chicago, we were all very tired, but managed to get a night in the Holiday Inn.

The next day, we had until 8pm to tour the city and make it back to the airport to catch our flight to Edmonton. We went up to the Skydeck of the Sears tour, ate Chicago deep dish pizza, and rode around the downtown loop in the CTA train. For not much planning, it was a pretty good tour of a city we all had never been to before.

We caught our flight which was on time, and were taken by surprise that we were given first class seats. I’ve never sat in first class before.

When we got back to Edmonton, it was about 11pm. I didn’t bother unpacking much or even talking at length with my mom, because I needed to wake up early the next day for work, but I wasn’t prepared for what would happen when I got there.

…

In Chicago, I received an email from my general manager saying he had left the company after only arriving in February. I wasn’t sure what to make of that until arriving to work this past Tuesday.

While I was away, the company reported a loss of $100,000 over the last few months, and with low purchase orders despite an apparent “hot” Alberta economy, layoffs were called. I was one of them.

It actually got to me harder than I thought it would. I said my goodbyes, and drove away (I was glad to have drove to work that day). I took the long route to Kingsway, where I indulged in a few purchases of comfort music and food, and then visited my dad and brother. I worked in our garden a bit and then headed with my brother to the unemployment office. On the plus side, the process for application is surprisingly easy.

Like August of 2006, I am now starring at my options for the future. However, this time the difference is that I am more focused. I am already making plans to go back to Shanghai next month, and with my article published I hope to find something there before I leave. As a backup, there is always Milan. As I mentioned before, I would love to live in Italy, but as an acquaintance once told me bluntly, “don’t confuse grad school with Italy”. Point taken.