The Johnstadts Invade Puerto Rico: Normalcy Settles like a Fog

Janneke had a comment today that sums up what life was like on the 5th of July, 2007. She said something to the effect of, "It's so much fun to just BE. HERE." And that's what the trip was really planned out to be: Exist in Puerto Rico semi-long-term.

Nothing touristy today, apart from the beach, which is free. Nothing whiz-bang, very little money spent. Mere existence in our temporary home. Morning routine was pretty ordinary: cartoons again for the wee ones, some news reading by the "Whoa!" ones, work on a new academic direction for Janneke. Tess and I did a quick run out to the drug store for some Bactine and came back with a rough spray-on equivalent that's fairly effective. Everybody in the family but Janneke was sunburned this morning and complaining about it, so we had to start medicating. And today Janneke was the only one allowed to go without a T-shirt in the water.

Janneke rounded up a lunch for us to take to the beach, and then we walked down Ashford Avenue in hopes of finding a place to buy me an affordable bathing suit. ("It's in the pile with my other shorts," I had said to Janneke. And upon opening the suitcases here, it became clear that that had not been quite true.) Just as we turned onto Ashford, a man in a van rolled up next to us and seemed to be gesticulating somewhat desperately, looking at us. Janneke's instinct was to keep walking, but something inside me tingled. I sprang into action. The man said simply, "El supermercado Pueblo?" Using the knowledge that only many, many hours of experience in the neighborhood can bestow, I replied with superhuman efficiency, "Vire aqui, hasta la proxima, y a la derecha." A wave and he was off, barely in time for the green light. Just another day for...I don't have a name yet. But I'll get one.

After a while, it became clear that I'd have to walk pretty far to find a suit, so we split up. And in the end I did get good directions to Marshall's, where I got my suit for $13. Since it was almost all downhill, I jogged back to where the family would be. My rickety old body held up well, even enjoying the run - we'll see what my heel has to say in the morning. As soon as I caught up with them on the beach, Quinn came up yowling in the surf - he'd stepped on a sea urchin, it seemed, and had two little spines broken off, jutting out of his right big toe. We would need tweezers, and fast!

Using my aforementioned intimiate knowledge of the neighborhood, plus the superhuman speed known to all Ridge and Valley Conference football fans from 1985-1987, I blazed up the street four blocks to the same drugstore where we'd bought the anti-sunburn spray that morning, and then back to the beach. The danger of chafing was ever-present, but I managed without serious injury. Quinn was less than fully cooperative, but he weighs all of 50 pounds, so it was a pretty simple matter for the two of us to wrangle him to the ground and jerk out the spines. All was well - the wind drowned out most of the screaming. (No exaggeration there. That little guy sounded like we were sawing his foot OFF. And 90% of it was before the tweezers got anywhere near him.) Tess was pretty traumatized by the whole experience, but was calmed by another dip in the water, wearing her swimmy suit with the styrofoam pads on the front and back of the torso. It looks like a bulletproof vest, and turns out actually to be 100% effective in preventing tickling.

Lunch up the beach, in the shade of the palms, where Janneke had plotted out a spot from which the local pelicans can be seen hovering above the surf and then plunging down. We saw a couple of dives, and Janneke got some pictures while we munched.

More swimming, and an impromptu postre of guava-flavored icy treats, bought for $1 from a strolling salesman. (Quinn had cocount.) Tess fell asleep in her stroller on the way back to the apartment, and after a shower, Quinn played, Janneke did laundry, and I volunteered for nap duty.

Post-nap, Quinn and I took a walk up the street to look for a park with a passable chin-up bar for me. No luck, but we found a lot of good businesses that look inexpensive that we'll be able to patronize. Quinn also learned how to tell the direction according to the position of the sun. When we walked east, we had our hats on backwards, to shade our necks; and when we went west, we turned them around again, to shade our eyes. Big fun.

Janneke and Tess went to the store, meanwhile, and when we reunited, we had a guacamole dip, some cuddlin', supper, and to bed. Now Janneke's also beginning to complain of sunburn. I tried to spray her with the anesthetic, but it's missing. I think Janneke threw it away, resentful as she is of what a good idea it was. Tomorrow she's also wearing a shirt to swim. We'll look a right proper lot of mincing nancies.

Perfect normalcy in tropical paradise. We're thinking we'll watch Deadwood again tonight, just to feel like we're still somehow connected to the continental US. Hasta manana!