{"id":2740,"date":"2013-11-17T10:49:49","date_gmt":"2013-11-17T18:49:49","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/bloodinyoursaltwater.com\/?p=2740"},"modified":"2014-09-27T05:27:19","modified_gmt":"2014-09-27T12:27:19","slug":"sampling-incandescence-san-juan-puerto-rico-11132013","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bloodinyoursaltwater.com\/?p=2740","title":{"rendered":"Sampling Incandescence \u2013 San Juan, Puerto Rico \u2013 [11\/13\/2013]"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"sampling\"<\/a>Some days I have difficulty writing about, because they are so inexplicably intertwined with emotion that to separate one would be to rob the other of its richness, of its flavour, of its very reality \u2013 but trying to write about something that you feel instead of something you see never quite comes out right, not even for\u00a0 me.<\/p>\n

But bear with me; I\u2019ll still give it my best try\u2026<\/p>\n

There is not a great deal to San Juan, unless you\u2019re seeing it with someone who already knows you well enough to precisely what you\u2019ll want to see. Much like Barcelona, I wasn\u2019t given a great deal of choice in my planned itinerary today; Amras bluntly informed me that I was coming with him. Since I\u2019d never set foot in San Juan beyond the end of the pier, I was willing to put myself in my big brother\u2019s hands, after all, he hasn\u2019t steered me wrong before.<\/p>\n

And then there was one of those random moments where I figured out that my adopted family really does listen to me \u2013 perhaps way more than I really realize. We were on our way to the bar we had a coupon for, which was just across the street from the ship, when I realize he\u2019s going in the wrong direction. I just looked at him quizzically for a second\u2026<\/p>\n

One stop first\u2026<\/i><\/p>\n

And I slowed and \u00a0looked at the empty slip on the harbor where the HMS Bounty<\/i> should have stood ,as she used to winter here before heading back to the states, before she was sunk off the coast of the US in Hurricane Sandy, a piece of history reclaimed by the ocean. I always weep when the sea takes one of my ladies, when the Bounty<\/i> went down I got at least three emails from friends at home with articles bearing the news and the words \u201cI\u2019m so sorry sweetie\u201d\u2026<\/p>\n

Dammit, she should BE here\u2026<\/i><\/p>\n

Yeah, that\u2019d be the stop\u2026<\/i><\/p>\n

Only my brother would know me well enough to stop to pay tribute to a ship that most people walking that harbor front probably do not even realize was ever there, let alone that she\u2019s gone. I doubt anyone else noticed what we were doing, but if we\u2019d had glasses, or even water bottles, we would have raised them \u2013 \u2018to absent friends\u2019.<\/p>\n

I\u2019m glad you at least got to see her\u2026got to spend some time with her\u2026before\u2026<\/i><\/p>\n

Yeah\u2026me too\u2026<\/i><\/p>\n

There was a fair amount of wandering involved after that, San Juan is a surprisingly small town but easy to get turned around in none the less. Finally, after what seemed like much longer than it actually was, we turned a corner and I could hear<\/i> the grin in his voice.<\/p>\n

Hang a right sis\u2026and enjoy<\/i><\/p>\n

And my jaw dropped.<\/p>\n

If you\u2019ve never heard of \u201cThe Butterfly People\u201d exhibition I wouldn\u2019t be surprised, I\u2019d never heard of it. It\u2019s tucked into a side street, with \u2013 apparently \u2013 not even any doors, but when you step inside, it\u2019s like stepping into a different world. Butterflies everywhere, butterflies made into art that takes your breath away, that makes your heart stop. It feels like you\u2019re in the middle of a fairyland, like suddenly the very walls are going to come alive around you. You feel like a child, like you want to spin around in it so that it simply becomes a blur of colour and still-life. I just stared\u2026I imagine the look on my face must have been either comical or \u2026something else I can\u2019t place. In the back of my mind, very vaguely, as though from a very long way away, I heard Amras chatting with the proprietor, and only one thing caught my ears enough to pull me out of what was essentially a trance.<\/p>\n

Is she a dancer then?<\/i><\/p>\n

Funny you should mention that\u2026<\/i><\/p>\n

I looked over my shoulder.<\/p>\n

I used to be, a long time ago\u2026I take it as a good thing that it still looks like I am.<\/i><\/p>\n

Then I went back to my trance..<\/p>\n

Amras says that the look on my face watching those dancing wings was one of the best parts of the whole day. It takes a lot to take my breath away, because I\u2019ve been fortunate enough to see so much, this managed it.<\/p>\n

But that wasn\u2019t the only thing that the day had in store for me apparently.<\/p>\n

How are you with churches?<\/i><\/p>\n

Fine, art history major remember? I love churches.<\/i><\/p>\n

Okay then, go on, something else you need to see.<\/i><\/p>\n

Me and cathedrals \u2013 as many people by now know \u2013 have an odd working relationship. I view them with an intense amount of respect and they give me a certain amount of hope for mankind: \u201clook at us, look at what we can do, what we can build, how much light we can give.\u201d, humanity\u2019s dance against the darkness. This one was old, and Spanish style, with a simplistic design except for the intricate painted weaves gracing the high arches of the ceilings, but the building wasn\u2019t what Amras had brought me there to see. It was what the building contained. He didn\u2019t even say anything, just led me around a corner and pointed, and somewhere on the fringes of my hearing I heard him say something along the lines of<\/p>\n

Remembered you liked history\u2026<\/i><\/p>\n

Is that\u2026who I think it is?<\/i><\/p>\n

Yup.<\/i><\/p>\n

And I just stared, taking in the gracefully carved letters that marked the grave of Ponce D\u2019Leon\u2026THE Ponce De Leon\u2026and it isn\u2019t a shrine, it is his actual grave. The historian in me squealed and jumped up and down for joy, the rest of me just stared. How I did not know this was here, just like I didn\u2019t know the Strad was on display in Florence \u2013 remains beyond me. But at the same time, I take so much joy in being given the gift of surprise, that part of me would rather not know what I\u2019m about to see\u2026part of me needs to still be able to give that child-like gasp of delight, to realize there are still things in this world that can shake my reality, and that there are people who know precisely what those things are.<\/p>\n

As is my personal tradition, I turned left at the altar and dropped a donation in the offerings box. There were no candle trees here, so I couldn\u2019t light the wish for the world I usually do, but my fingertips still sketched the same gesture across my breast that most people would \u2013 to this day \u2013 blink to see me complete. I returned to Amras at the door and shrugged a smile at him<\/p>\n

You just missed something you may never see again\u2026<\/i><\/p>\n

Oh?<\/i><\/p>\n

Your little sister crossing herself\u2026<\/i><\/p>\n

Seriously?<\/i><\/p>\n

I always do. Gesture of respect, of acceptance, I make an offering in every church I go to anywhere in the world\u2026<\/i><\/p>\n

We had intended to make our way up to the fort and the cemetery on the other end of the island, but the sign down the street in the window for a local watering hole advertising $5 Mohitos caught our eye instead, so we ended up there, sipping real drinks for the first time in what feels like weeks (we\u2019re not allowed to have mixed drinks on board) and munching on deep fried shrimp and pickles (sometimes you just need to feel your arteries clog) and\u2026talking. Amras and I talk a lot, in case that hadn\u2019t become clear by now.<\/p>\n

Then he looked at his watch.<\/p>\n

We should start wandering if we want to make it to the best cocktail place in the world<\/i><\/p>\n

Normally I would call such a description an exaggeration, I\u2019d been hearing this statement about this particular bar all week, and too be honest, I wasn\u2019t sure what to expect. Then\u2026Amras put the Rum Old Fashioned in front of me and waited patiently for me to take my first sip.<\/p>\n

There are very few things in the world that I can\u2019t describe. Somehow, I always find the words. Pain, joy, weddings, funerals, grief, acceptance, I can describe nearly anything so that whoevers reading it can enjoy it with me.<\/p>\n

I can\u2019t describe that drink.<\/p>\n

No really. I can\u2019t\u2026it was like\u2026every warm memory of every holiday you\u2019ve ever had, even ones you don\u2019t remember. Perhaps ones you never experienced at all.<\/p>\n

That\u2019s \u2026that\u2019s just\u2026I don\u2019t\u2026I\u2026<\/i><\/p>\n

Yeah\u2026I know right!?<\/i><\/p>\n

There are days when you\u2019re so happy you nearly feel like you\u2019re going to short out. Where your feet take you back to the ship but your heart and your mind are somewhere way above them. Some days exist in between realities and are made up of salt and sunscreen and summer, of the taste of orange and chocolate and the sprinkle of nutmeg, or the kick from the burn of straight Bacardi on the back of your throat.<\/p>\n

Life throws us curve balls, and sometimes we do stupid things to try and hit them out of the park, and sometimes we\u2019re lucky and we manage a line drive down the middle\u2026<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Some days I have difficulty writing about, because they are so inexplicably intertwined with emotion that to separate one would be to rob the other of its richness, of its flavour, of its very reality \u2013 but trying to write … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[4,48],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2740","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-below-the-waterline","category-med-2013"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p3GtNE-Ic","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bloodinyoursaltwater.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2740","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/bloodinyoursaltwater.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/bloodinyoursaltwater.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bloodinyoursaltwater.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bloodinyoursaltwater.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2740"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/bloodinyoursaltwater.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2740\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3401,"href":"https:\/\/bloodinyoursaltwater.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2740\/revisions\/3401"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bloodinyoursaltwater.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2740"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bloodinyoursaltwater.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2740"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bloodinyoursaltwater.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2740"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}