Day 77 o el Dia sesentasiete

My eyes glazed with shimmering glitter as I looked into him, telling my story of when the hurricane touched down in Puerto Rico that one fine September. I spoke with mi papi chulo co-worker about my vacation to Puerto Rico many years back. It was my first trip being in Puerto Rico, visiting the island. It must have been 2006. I was with my ex, who was Puerto Rican, and he brought me there for one week. It's ironic how storms can add a rest and peace after it has passed. Just like in our lives. Many upheavels bring us back down, reality and appreciation of the simple things we have, los basicos, humble us again. There had been a tropical storm that knocked down telephone poles and left the water system down. We had to live without running water and electricity for the first 2 nights. Heat wasn't an issue, since Puerto Rico was so humid already. My ex's aunt was so courteous and kind. I'd finish not even half my plate and she'd come in with an overspilling spoon of more arroz con gandules.

"Ambi, you like?"

Of course my name was Amber but in Puerto Rico, there was not too many islanders named Amber. That was an American name. So I let her proceed and let her call me that.

"Si, muchas gracias para tu comida! Tan Rico! Gracias por todo!"

I tried. I listened. I followed. It was wonderful. With just the simplest things we had, candlelight and love. Who could ask for more! As the night cooled serenely, so did our plates and the coffee that was offered so many times throughout the day. That woman could do no resting. From 5 am, sunrise when the animal alarm clock rose the dead every morning, that woman was up. Breakfast, sweeping, cleaning, laundry, keeping with the chickens, dishes, garden..almost any type of chore kept that woman going. She was like a machine! Her whole life was spent in the home. Taking care of her husband and children. She loved her life in the neon tiled spanish house. She knew no other. The outside world to her was watching tv and seeing what went on through Las Noticias y las novelas y otra programas. She was content. One afternoon we took her to Denny's in Aguadilla and she was so used to serving that it was hard for her to sit there and not be the one on the serving end.

"Just relax, here, you order from the menu. Mira..aqui"

My ex spoke to her assuredly that that was the way to order food. Her eyes skipped and squinted. She didn't know how to read. A simple woman of the house, sheltered from anything else. Her body language spoke aloud of awkwardness and unsure and not used to. She was out of her element. In the simplest things that Americans in the modern age take with everyday life to just apart of, she wasn't apart of that. Restaurants were a luxury, but to her, a "can do without" on her list. She'd rather stay home and cook. The night came about and we said "Your coming with us."
I had dressed in a silky swaying skirt and top, ready to salsa and mirangue with mi novio and wore a smile ready to shine a dance floor. As we approached in our rental car, the streets were dirt and rock and horses were tied to posts in front of the club. Outside, the dancefloor had only a slab roof to cover and open all around. The band had left and the dj began playing la musica latina. We danced a few songs, and within those songs, my hair had lost all control, gel evaporated by the humid air. Mis rizos bounced light and fluffy.

"Ven, Ven, Baila conmigo!"

My ex pulled his aunt out of the chair she was planted in. Yes she was older, but she was able. She clearly then was not used to anything to do with outside her comfort zone of the home let alone a dancefloor. She tried half a song and then let me and my ex take the rest of the night. We got home and she was in bed by minutes. It's funny how people live differently. How maybe we would think of never being a homemaker for a living or tending to the housewife lifestyle. How some are business men and woman, career oriented. Others after material gain or the hippie life, not a care in the world where there backpack will land. We all live a lifestyle that we are happy with. His aunt always catered her whole life to her family. It's what drove her. It's what gave her life meaning and caring and passion. She couldn't rest for long because she didn't want to. It was part of her routine. Imagine, though, if we just all took a little time to just stop, breathe and let it all sink in. The nature, the silkyness in the breeze, the taste, the smell of what life in this world offers, the simple. The two nights without all the worldly moderns brought us back to love and enjoying the simple..