Bryce

The Second Semester

Chapter 26 - Puerto Rico

            On Saturday morning, March 6, Bryce Winslow and Damon Watson flew out of Clifton on their way to a spring break on Puerto Rico.  This was something else Damon had never done before getting to know Bryce.  It never even occurred to Bryce at the time, but when he and Damon flew to Lincoln, Nebraska back at Thanksgiving, it was the first time Damon had ever been on an airplane.  That was also the farthest he had ever been from his birthplace, Chicago.  Bryce reminded himself that this was in some ways the same thing as when he spoke about his religious ideas and practices.  He had been going on family vacations since he was a small child, many of which involved air travel, just as he had been absorbing his Catholic religion ever since he was a child.  He would try to keep this in mind, and not do or say anything that might embarrass his boyfriend.

            Before entering the line for the security check, Bryce reminded Damon, “You’re going to have to remove those prized shoes of yours.”

            “My shoes?  Why?” Damon responded.

            “Don’t you remember from when we flew to Lincoln?  It’s part of the security check,” Bryce replied.

            “Yeah, now that you mention it, I do remember that.  It’s a pain in the ass.  Why do they require us to take off our shoes?” Damon complained.

            “Oh, a few years ago some dude from England tried smuggling an explosive device hidden in the heel of his shoe.  So now, in typical bureaucratic fashion, the government overreacts after the fact by making everyone remove their shoes and send them through the scanner,” Bryce explained.  “It may be a nuisance, but there’s nothing to be done about it if you want to get on the plane.”

            From Clifton, they flew to Atlanta, where they had a layover of about an hour and a half.  Once in Atlanta, Bryce suggested going immediately to the terminal from which their San Juan flight would leave, and there grabbing something to eat.  Their flight to San Juan left at an inconvenient 12:14 p.m., and, while they would be served something on the plane, it would not be much.  So, a bit early, the two guys got something from one of the food venders in the terminal, and settled down to wait until their flight was called.

            “I’ve never been to a foreign country before,” Damon remarked as they munched on their early lunch.

            “You still won’t be.  Puerto Rico is not a foreign country,” Bryce informed his boyfriend.

            “Sure it is.  Isn’t that where the bananas come from?  And don’t they speak Spanish there?” Damon insisted.

            “I think you’re confusing Puerto Rico with Costa Rica when it comes to bananas, Damon, but Puerto Rico is an island that belongs to the United States.  We stole it fair and square from Spain in the Spanish-American War of 1898-99,” Bryce informed him.

            “Are you sure?  Back in the projects, there were some Hispanic dudes, you know, all speaking Spanish.  Some were Cubans, and some were Mexicans, and I’m pretty sure some were from Puerto Rico,” Damon argued.

            “Yes, they do speak Spanish on Puerto Rico.  Like I said, we got it from Spain.  But that doesn’t make it a foreign country.  After all, there are Spanish speaking people in the Southwest and California whose ancestors were there for centuries before we stole those territories from Mexico in 1848.  You do know that California is part of the United States, don’t you, even if they do everything in a weird way out there?” Bryce joked.  “After all, no one asked you for your passport, did they?  Or a visa?”

            “Yeah, okay.  So this island we’re going to is part of the good ole U S of A.  And here I thought I was making my first trip to a foreign country.  But it doesn’t look good that we’re always stealing territory from someone else, does it?”

            “Well, I guess you can argue both ways on that.  You know, who started the war, and who was at fault, and all that stuff.  Anyway, if you really want to argue about it, I guess the entire continent was stolen from the indigenous peoples, so it really doesn’t matter whether English speaking people steal parts of it from Spanish speaking people,” Bryce argued, still somewhat tongue in cheek.

            “What’s this ‘indigenous peoples’ bit?” Damon groused, not happy at being bested in the argument.

            “Indians,” Bryce told him.

            “Oh.”  He thought about that for a while.  “Yeah, I guess they really got the short end of the stick, didn’t they?”

            “Yep.  But it was not paradise on earth before my European ancestors arrived.  At least as far as we can tell from archaeology and folklore, the Indians were busy then, with one tribe stealing territory from another tribe.  We just complicated the mess.  And, of course, the Europeans were busy stealing from each other before they came over here, and I suspect the Africans were, too.  Seems not to be restricted to any one group of people,” Bryce insisted.

            This discussion lasted through the wait in the terminal, and well into the time spent in the air.

            Their plane landed at the Luis Muñoz Marin International Airport on schedule at 3:54 local time.  That was a bit misleading, as Puerto Rico is on Atlantic Time, an hour ahead of Eastern Time, so the flight actually took about two and a half hours, not three and a half.  After gathering their luggage (why is it that airports insist on calling your stuff baggage?), they found the shuttle which would take them to their home for the next few days, the Hotel Ortega, located on the eastern outskirts of San Juan.  The driver of the van was a very friendly young man about their own age, who informed his passengers that he was named Arturo Diaz Cabrera.

            “So, Señor Cabrera, are you a full-time employee of the hotel?” Bryce asked, more to make conversation than for any other purpose.

            “Well, first of all, I should mention that, in our culture, the practice is to place the father’s family name first, followed by the mother’s family name.  My father is Alfredo Diaz Ortiz, and he is the manager of the Hotel Ortega.  So, I am never called Señor Cabrera.  That’s my maternal grandfather.  If you want to be formal, I am Señor Diaz, but I would much prefer just Arturo,” their driver responded.

            “Oh, sorry.  I’m glad to know that.  I won’t make that mistake again,” Bryce replied.

            “As to your second question,” Arturo continued, “I work only part time at the hotel, mostly driving the van and carrying luggage to and from guest rooms.  I’m a full time student at the Rio Piedras Campus of the University of Puerto Rico.  Rio Piedras is a suburb of San Juan.  I’m pursuing a degree in Business Administration, with a minor in Accounting.  I’ve watched my dad over the years, and I think I would like to do the same sort of thing.”

            For the remainder of the time it took to reach the hotel, the three young men discussed their college experiences.

            At the hotel, the duo were registered without difficulty and informed of the amenities.  The dining times were later than they were used to in Clifton, but seemed to offer both a local and a standard American fare.  There was access across a well-tended park area to the beaches of the Atlantic on the north shores of the island.  The hotel itself was originally the home of the Ortega family, which were a significant local power during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.  It had been remodeled and expanded when it passed into the hands of the current corporate owners, who made it into a hotel some time in the 1920s.  Throughout the architecture and decorations were in the Spanish colonial style.

            After checking into their room and freshening up some, the two guys made their way down to the lobby, dressed in their swimming gear.  Just as they entered, they were encountered by Arturo, who informed them that such dress was not allowed in the lobby, dining areas, or formal gardens.  There was a side door which might be used to go directly from the rooms to the outside.  Somewhat abashed, Bryce and Damon made their way to the designated exit, and across to the marvelous beaches.  Although by this time it was about five o’clock local time, the sun was still shining brightly, unlike the dull, overcast skies of Clifton.  For nearly two hours, they enjoyed the beaches and the ocean.  That was another first for Damon.  He was somewhat familiar with Lake Michigan, of course, but that was a fresh water body without tides, and with only moderate waves except during storms.  The ocean was an entirely different proposition.  Damon was concerned about sharks, but they were informed by the teenager working in the concession stand on the fringe of the beach area that no sharks were known to be in the area, and, moreover, in response to another question from Damon, that it was too early for the hurricane season.  Reassured, they enjoyed themselves, dunking each other, and giving Damon’s swimming lessons a real workout.  That, he proclaimed, made the PE course worthwhile.

            Even on this first visit, it was apparent that there were some very attractive young men on the beach, but Bryce and Damon were interested only in each other as far as any serious connection was concerned.  Still, the eye-candy was quite pleasing, provided one ignored the fat and flabby others also dotting the sands.

            Bryce stretched out on a large beach towel, courtesy of the hotel, saying he wanted to work on his tan.  Damon responded that he didn’t need to do that.  He came with a tan already built in.  Despite that, he sunned himself along with his boyfriend, enjoying the warmth and the sea breezes.  They held hands as they talked, and no one seemed to take umbrage at that, to their considerable relief once they recognized what they were doing.  They had intended to be discrete about their relationship, as Puerto Rico was not considered a gay friendly location.  Their ‘outing’ came about because a young boy of about five or six happened to notice them.  He giggled and pointed, making Bryce and Damon somewhat self-conscious, but a young woman, presumably his mother, grabbed the boy, said something in Spanish, and disappeared down the beach.

            Bryce asked Damon, “What did she say?”

            “I was so surprised at being caught holding hands by that little paparazzo-in-training that I wasn’t paying attention,” Damon admitted.

            “Come on, now.  You’re supposed to be the translator down here.  My second language is French, and I don’t think that will be very helpful in Puerto Rico.  I’m counting on you to be our translator for anything in Spanish,” Bryce teased his companion.

            “So far, except for that woman, everything has been in English.  I just wasn’t ready,” Damon excused himself.

            “Well, the island has belonged to the United States for over a century.  I guess the locals have gotten used to monolingual Americans and learned a lot of English.  Arturo and the people at the reception desk sure had no problem there,” Bruce conceded.

            Despite the lack of difficulty in this instance, Bryce and Damon determined to be more careful in any public display of affection during the remainder of their stay.  Why ruin a perfectly good vacation by neglecting a few basic precautions?

            A little after seven, they returned to the hotel by way of the side door, and dressed for dinner in the main dining room.  There was a maître d’ who showed them to a table and presented them with a menu, in English, Bryce noted.  He obviously had them pegged as visitors from the mainland.  For their first dinner in San Juan, the guys decided to try local cuisine.  To their surprise, they found it nothing like the Mexican or Tex-Mex foods usually served in Mexican restaurants, including El Rincon Latino in Clifton.  The leading entrées were pork based, for one thing.  Another large part of the menu, not surprisingly, was sea food, but with a different list of dishes than the Lenten menu at El Rincon Latino or the Red Lobster in Clifton.  Bryce was happy to see the large seafood selection, as he was still observing his abstinence from meat as part of his lenten devotions.  He had, however, agreed to substitute a series of prayers for his abstinence from alcohol, at Damon’s request, for the duration of their vacation.  He did not want to be a wet blanket.  The guys enjoyed perusing the menu, and selecting things they thought might be interesting.  They were rewarded with magnificent food, served well.

            After eating, they emerged into the lobby, where they encountered an elderly gentleman who was holding forth on the history of the hotel, or rather, on the history of the Ortega estate prior to when it became a hotel.  He was a white haired man, probably in his seventies, dressed in an immaculate white suit with a ruffled shirt and black string tie.  He spoke excellent English to his listeners, but with a Spanish accent.  His audience seemed to be made up of a mixed group of patrons of the hotel of all ages.  The man discussed several exciting adventures related to the Ortega family, and then indicated that all the talk made him thirsty.  That hint was taken up by several of the listeners, who invited him into the bar.  Assuming they were not legal, Bryce and Damon turned to leave the lobby.  They encountered Arturo, and asked him who the old man was.

            “Oh, that’s Señor Orlando Ortega y Olivares.  His family used to own this place years ago.  I think he’s like the last of the family.  He was here when my dad became manager back when I was small.  We were told he was living in one of the rooms and eating at the restaurant, rent free, and so we’ve continued that to this day.  He’s worth it.  He entertains the guests, and they tell friends, and that helps with registrations.  We actually have a better occupancy rate than most in our category, and Señor Ortega is part of the reason, so we don’t want to rock the boat,” Arturo explained.

            “Does he get free drinks as well,” Bryce asked, looking towards the bar.

            “No.  He either buys his own, or he gets treated by guests, mostly the latter,” Arturo said with a smile.  “Come on in and have a look.  We have a very nice bar area,” he invited.

            “Can we come in?  We’re not twenty-one, and we don’t want to cause trouble, especially on our first day,” Bryce stated.

            Arturo smiled.  “In Puerto Rico, the legal drinking age is eighteen.  A few places have higher limits as a house rule, but that’s the law, and here we are very law abiding,” he grinned, as he led Bryce and Damon into the very nicely appointed bar area.

            “Are you supposed to be working?  We don’t want to get you in trouble, either,” Damon said.

            “I’m off.  No more flights to meet, and no more luggage to carry to rooms.  I go back on the books at seven in the morning, but for now, I’m my own boss,” Arturo told them.

            Bryce was grateful that he had agreed to Damon’s request about altering his lenten observances.  This was too great an opportunity to pass up.

            They commandeered a table, and Arturo approached the bar.  “Ola, Diego!” he called to the barkeeper, and gave an order which went completely over Bryce’s head, but which Damon said he thought was for rum.  He was right.

            Arturo explained that the national drink of Puerto Rico was rum, called ron in Spanish.  One of the largest and best producers was the Distilerias Serrallés, which produced Ron Don Q, the leading rum among Puertoricaños.  The “Don Q” of the title was a reference to the famous literary figure Don Quixote, not pronounced “quicks ott” but “key HOE tay” Arturo informed them.  That distillery had an agreement with the Hotel Ortega, so only its products were served here.  Arturo proudly told the guys that about 70% of the rum sold in the US was produced on Puerto Rico.  Actually, Bryce found rum a little too harsh for his taste, accustomed as he was to Bourbon, but he nevertheless enjoyed the drinks Arturo ordered for them.  Damon seemed to enjoy them more.  Both guys were pleased with the eighteen year drinking age.  Had they known that, they would have had wine with their dinner.  Unwittingly echoing slogans from the campaign to pass the eighteen year old voting amendment in 1971, Bryce stated that if one were a legal adult, and had the right to vote at eighteen, it seemed inappropriate that one could not order a glass of wine until three years later.

            The Hotel Ortega did not feature a fitness center.  When asked, Arturo replied that the ocean supplied that want for hotel patrons.  Consequently, first thing Sunday morning Bryce was ready to hit the beaches again.  Knowing that it was considered unsafe to go out alone, Bryce wanted his partner to go with him.  Damon objected.  He pointed out that, 1) Bryce did not usually work out on Sunday mornings, 2) they were on vacation, 3) he did not usually work out at all, and 4) they did not know where the church was, or how long it would take to get to it, so Bryce should not be “frittering away” his time on the beach.  In compensation, Damon agreed to spend the entire afternoon there, and possibly the evening as well, provided they had a sufficient amount of sun screen.  Faced with these arguments, Bryce capitulated.  They dressed for church, but first stopped in the restaurant to have breakfast.  After eating, they asked at the desk about a Catholic church and times of Masses.  They were told about a local parish, but also that Arturo was driving a van with hotel guests to the Cathedral of San Juan Bautista for the Mass at 11:00.  They should be in the lobby by 10:15.

            Having an hour or more to spend, the two walked out into the grounds.  On the side away from the beaches, the Hotel Ortega boasted a well laid out formal garden, dating to when it was a private residence, with many examples of local flora, and nicely chipped walkways.  The garden attracted a variety of avian wildlife, so there was a constant cacophony of bird sounds.  Bryce and Damon walked the garden, and sat on surprisingly comfortable benches situated in shaded locations.  Already at that hour of the morning the sun was bright, and the heat was rising.  It was expected to be in the mid-eighties by mid afternoon, and was already hovering near the eighty figure.  Neither Bryce nor Damon was complaining.  It was such a welcome change from the chilly and overcast weather of Clifton that they simply wanted to enjoy the difference.

            The Cathedral and the city shared a common name, San Juan Bautista (St. John the Baptist).  The city was founded in 1508 by Juan Ponce de León (1474-1521) at a site just to the west of the present location, and moved to what is now known as the Old Town in 1521.  Ponce de León is commonly known in American history as the luckless searcher after the Fountain of Youth, but he was in fact a significant Spanish colonial governor of Puerto Rico, whose authority extended to today’s Florida, which he was the first European to visit, and which he named.  He served in this capacity twice, from 1509-1512, and from 1515 to 1519.  The town itself was first called Puerto Rico (Rich Port), which name was extended later to the entire island, with the city taking its name from the cathedral of San Juan.  The diocese was first established in 1521 with the move to the Old Town, making it the second oldest in the new world, after Santo Domingo.  The present building went through many alterations, being destroyed by hurricanes twice and looted by English pirates as well.  The present structure was completely renovated in 1917.  In the church is the tomb of Ponce de León, among other treasures proudly displayed by Arturo.  Visiting this place made a chapter of history come alive, and hearing Mass here, for Bryce, made him feel a part of that history.  Puerto Rico and the neighboring Virgin Island are the only parts of the United States to have actually been visited by the great discoverer Christopher Columbus, or Cristobal Colón in Spanish.

            Mass was in Spanish, of course, but by this time not only Bryce by also Damon was familiar enough that both guys knew what was going on, even if they could not understand all that was said.  Damon tried to follow the liturgy in Spanish, but he had difficulty with some of the liturgical expressions.  The sermon was more easily understood, and he took delight in giving Bryce a running translation sotto voce.  After Mass, and a perusal under Arturo’s guidance of some of the treasures of the cathedral, they found themselves out in a square in a town scene dating from the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.  The Old Town of San Juan is actually an island connected to the mainland by a bridge.  As they emerged from the cathedral, they reconnected with Arturo and the others from the Hotel Ortega, but rather than return in the shuttle Bryce and Damon decided to remain in the Old Town for a while, despite Bryce’s earlier anxiety to hit the beaches.

            On the recommendation of Arturo, they decided to have Sunday dinner at a seafood restaurant named appropriately Aguaviva.  They were fortunate in their selection, later discovering that this restaurant had great ratings from the travel companies.  Damon selected a surf and turf dish, while Bryce went for lobster.  Well, they were celebrating their first full day in Puerto Rico.  The crab cakes appetizers were outstanding, and the main dishes superbly prepared and presented.  The waitress was polite and helpful, and the manager even came by to greet them and make certain everything was well.  Considering that they were two teenage guys, they thought that very courteous, even if he did the same for everyone.  As an experiment, they also tried the watermelon sangria, a traditional Spanish punch made of wine, fruit, and brandy.  The guys felt so very grown up, being able to order such a concoction in a restaurant, and not having to bootleg it at the fraternity house.  They had only one each.  They were not hurried at all, being allowed to complete their meals and digest a bit while sipping their drinks in a friendly atmosphere, with background music which allowed them to carry on a conversation in a normal tone of voice, and lighting which created a romantic atmosphere while still giving them enough light to read the menu and see what they were eating.

            For several hours after dinner they allowed their food to settle while strolling about the Old Town.  They discovered the Casa Blanca, built for the descendants of Ponce de León and inhabited by them from 1521 to 1779.  From that date until 1966 it was a residence for the military commander of the fortress, and now serves as a museum of native artifacts and San Juan history.  The structure known as La Fortaleza, originally built as a fort against raids by Carib Indians, and later by Dutch and English pirates, proved inadequate against the English in 1598 and the Dutch in 1625, and even before that was replaced by the fortress called San Felipe del Moro, began as early as 1540.  La Fortaleza is the oldest continuously inhabited executive mansion in the Americas, having been the official residence of 170 governors of Puerto Rico.  El Moro has been captures only one, by the English in 1598.  Its site of 74 acres makes it the largest fortification in the Caribbean, although it is now no longer in active service, but since 1949 has been a National Historic Site, administered by the National Parks Service.

            By the time Bryce and Damon had taken in all this, it was about five o’clock, so they decided to return to the hotel and take advantage, at last, of those beautiful beaches.  However, in their wanderings they had become disoriented, and had no idea how to find the bridge which would take them to the mainland, where they could get a cab back to the Hotel Ortega.  Fortunately, the locals were extremely friendly, especially when Damon spoke to them in Spanish.  He was grateful that, thanks to Mike Sandoval and a few others and his Spanish classes at the University, his vocabulary had cleaned up, so he did not inadvertently insult someone.  One cooperative young lady of about eight or nine even led them for several blocks until they could see the bridge.  This friendliness, and the history of the place, left a lasting endearment with a desire to return some day.

            The guys were not disappointed.  When they arrived back at the Hotel Ortega, the sun was still shining brightly, and the beaches were as attractive as ever.  They quickly changed and made their way (by the approved exit) to the inviting sands.  Once again, they spent several hours in the sun, swimming, lazing about, and enjoying their ambiance and each other.  They remembered sun screen.  There were reminders everywhere in the hotel and at the beach.  Sun screen was sold at the concession stand.  It did the tourist business no good to have visitors turn bright red and suffer painful burns.  Bryce gloated that he would have a great tan to show to the brothers at Sigma Alpha Tau when he got back.  Damon protested that he did not want his boyfriend showing too much skin to anyone else, and the two engaged in a little horse play, with Bryce chasing Damon into the sea.  They returned around nine to enjoy a light supper, very appropriate after their large dinner in the Old Town.

            The remaining days of the week were not as exciting as that first one.  A great deal of time was spent on the beach.  They returned to the Old Town twice more, there was so much to experience.  The greatest change of pace came on Wednesday, when Arturo talked them into a new experience, run by distant relatives at the Hacienda Carabali, and the nearby El Yunque National Forest, the only tropical rainforest among the US National Forest system.  They left early in the morning so as to have time to visit both attractions. 

            Located about 40 km. east of San Juan and in the foothills of the Yunque Rain Forest, Hacienda Carabali offers many vacationing adventures.  To the delight of Bryce, there was a stable.  Although they did not stock his favorite American Saddlebred horses, they did feature the Latin American favorite Paso Fino, a native breed developed on the island, with many characteristics in common with the Saddlebred.  Remembering their visits to Nebraska, the two went for a long ride on the 600 acre spread.  But that was not all.  Hacienda Carabali also offered mountain bike riding and a go-cart speedway, both of which they had to try.  They lunched at the Rainforest Inn, with spectacular views of the Atlantic Ocean on one side and the rainforest on the other.

            Leaving the Hacienda Carabali with salutations from Señor Diaz, the owner, they then entered the Yunque Rainforest, a 28,000 acre preserve.  There, they chose to spend the afternoon hiking, with spectacular views of waterfalls, cool mountain streams, and tropical vegetation.  As they were in mountainous terrain, the temperature was significantly lower than on the beaches.  Throughout there were the sounds of tropical birds, but, much to their satisfaction, they were assured by the park rangers that there were no venomous snakes in the reservation.  Along the way, they paused at the Mameyes river for a dip, which they found refreshing, but the waters cold, as was usually the came with mountain streams.  In the southern part of the park, they came upon the Dwarf Forest at about 3,000 feet above sea level, with vegetation with fat trunks and few leaves, mimicking a human dwarf.  On the way back to the exit, known as El Portal, they also were told about Taino petroglyphs, the picture writing of the aboriginal people of the island, but they were unable to take in any example of this early record.  As they did not have a camping permit, they had to leave the forest by six o’clock, but had enjoyed the afternoon, and the change of pace, tremendously.  On the way back to the hotel, Arturo informed his guests that he claimed Taino descent, as did a large number of Puertoricaños, but there were no full blooded representatives of that pre-Columbian people left.  The mountains complemented the beaches and the Old Town of San Juan to give the guys a more balanced experience of Puerto Rico.  That evening, both guys went to bed early, and slept the sleep of the physically exhausted.

            All good things must come to an end, they say.  Friday evening clouds began to gather, and during the night there was a thunderstorm.  On Saturday morning, it was raining, making a trip to the beach a non-starter.  That really didn’t matter, however, as Bryce and Damon were scheduled to leave San Juan later that morning.  Arturo and the hotel shuttle returned Bryce and Damon to the Luis Muñoz Marin International Airport for their return flight.  Neither Bryce nor Damon had been to Puerto Rico before, but both wanted to return after their spring break experience.  Damon thanked Bryce for the opportunity to travel and see such wonderful places.  Bryce promised much more of the same if he stuck around.

            “What do you mean ‘if’?” Damon demanded, holding Bryce in a tight head lock.  “I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you, unless we go together.”

            “I surrender!” Bryce cried.  “Change that ‘if’ to ‘when.’

            There was no doubt that their shared spring break brought the lovers even closer together.