A Night in Colombia!

Several weeks ago, my grand uncle's wife, Rosa, invited me over for dinner and a cooking lesson!  Rosa is from Colombia, and decided to show me how to make Empanadillas de Maiz (corn turnovers) and hot chocolate...Colombian style.  Here's a peek into my 'Night in Colombia'...enjoy!

-Empanadillas -

The stuffing

Ok here you'll find the mixture of potatoes and tomatoes.  Unfortunately this was already prepared before I arrived.  I believe she also mixed in achiote for coloring, and water that had been boiled with a few cubes of chicken stock.

White Corn Meal

Water achiote and chicken cube mix

Here's the white corn meal and the boiled water with achiote and chicken cubes.  You have to mix the two in order to get the masa to make the empanadilla.

Mix it up!

Once you have the right consistency for the masa (not too thick, not too thin), you roll it in a ball and place it on a piece of plastic wrap (Rosa cuts Ziploc bags open and uses those).

The ball

Then using your (clean) hands you press the ball down to make a wide and even circle.  Keep a bowl of water close as you may need to add a bit on your fingertips to help the masa spread better.

Press down

Now you add the stuffing (note: you can put whatever you want in these empanadillas...chicken, beef, veggies...I'm toying with the idea of fresh fruit inside with sugar added to the masa and making a chocolate dip mmmm)

Filling time!

Now, here is where the plastic wrap comes in...you have to fold one side onto the other.  You also have to make sure that you pack it tightly as to create a perfect crescent and to keep any air out of the plastic opening.

Perfect shape!

The empanadillas are ready to be fried!  Fill an iron pot with corn oil.  How do you know if the oil is hot enough?  Well, you take a baby ball of masa and throw it in the oil.  When it rises, the oil is hot enough to insert the empanadillas.

Oil's ready!

Empanadillas frying!

Fry until golden brown...

¡Mmmm Empanadillas de Maiz!

*Hot Chocolate*

It starts with a chocolate bar.  Rosa says this is a Colombian brand that she found here in Puerto Rico.

Chocolate Bar mmm!

You take a few pieces of chocolate and put it in a metal pitcher with a few cups of water.

Water and Chocolate

Then you add about a cup or so of milk.

Milk does a body good!

Add heat and cover for about 15 minutes or until warm.

Once the milk begins to boil, you lower the flame and mix it.  Rosa has a special wooden mixer from Colombia.  It was awesome to use...you have to balance the handle between your palms and mix!

Now, its time to prepare the cups...this is going to sound weird but just go with it...cut a few cubes of queso blanco (spanish white cheese) and place them in the cup.  Then, pour in the hot chocolate and enjoy!

Cheese!

Eat before, during and/or after!

Empanadillas and hot chocolate!

That was my 'Night in Colombia'...I look forward to more....maybe even, one day, a REAL night in Colombia ;)

99% of them...

Now that all the back stories have been told, I can finally talk about the actual whale festival!  This weekend was wonderful and while it is apparent the the summer heat is starting to kick in over here (like strong and sunny and hot days and sticky humid nights), it was an awesome day for the beach.  So, Mama and I hit the road!  Initially, the whales were definitely not trying to be seen and if they did make an appearance, they were so far and fast that it felt rather unfulfilling.  But, as the hours passed, they came closer and way more active.  Unfortunately, I forgot my real camera at home, so the picture you see here was taken with my phone.  It was breathtaking in person while on film it just looks like a black speck in the water!  Well, that black speck is the whale's tail!  It was awesome and yet another reason to thank God for the gift of sight.

Look all the way in the back!

While relaxing on the beach I spotted a cute couple quite a few feet away from me.  The woman was wearing a bikini and judging by how she was rubbing her belly I concluded that she was expecting.  While staring in their direction I commented to Mama "I think she's pregnant."  Then, I watched as they jumped up to watch the whales flash their tails.  As they did, I continued to watch him grab her from the waist and simply cuddle her while looking out onto the sea.  I couldn't help but blurt out "I miss my boyfriend." as I threw myself onto my towel and let out a hard sigh.  Mama matched my sigh with hers and proceeded to "school" me (without ever looking up from her crossword puzzle)...

Mama: "Well, he's probably not missing you."

Me: "Mama!  How could you say that?"

Mama: "Aye nena, these are things I know.  Men are men.  You're over here and he's over there.  You think he's really waiting for you?"

Me: "Aye, Mama stop talking like that please.  I trust him and I know that he's not doing anything."

Mama: "You don't need to trust anyone.  You'll see.  I'm just trying to tell you what I know.  Men are born that way, they can't help it..."

Me: "If I think that way Mama, I will never be with anyone!"

Mama: "...and anyway, have you two even talked about getting married."

Me: "Yes.  We're talking about it.  Its just not the right time yet."

Mama: "Aye nena, if a man wants to marry you, he marries you.  What is there to think about?"

Me: "You just told me that I shouldn't even trust him and now you're saying I should just hurry up and marry him?!  What are you talking about?!"

Mama: "I'm just saying that if a man wants to marry you he does.  But I am also saying that 99% of them are all the same and men can't be trusted.  You never let a man know you love him."

Me: "What about Papa?  What about my father?  They're men, and they're good men."

Mama: "Papa is dead and we're not talking about your father."

Me: "So what!  We're talking about men and you're basically saying all men are horrible but I can give you several examples of good men."

Mama: "Like I said, 99% of them..."

Me: "So, are you saying that if my mom had come to talk to you when she was young...you would say the same thing about your son."

Mama: "Of course!  He's a man isn't he?"

Me: "I can't with you sometimes..."

Mama giggles, closes her word search book and says: "I'm just trying to help you out, you'll see what I'm saying is true.  Just watch.  They're born that way..."

Me: "So they're born bad and all men are bad....well, 99% of them.  That's what you're telling me?"

Mama: "You got it."

Me: "So if I listen to you, I'll never get married."

Mama: "And what's wrong with that?  If a woman has a life that she truly enjoys as a single woman, then I'd ask her why is she getting married?"

Me: "That is just so sad.  Going through life not trusting anyone."

Mama: "Thats life. "

Me: "But you had Papa!  You never trusted Papa?!"

Mama: "What did I say...you don't trust ANY man.  I never told Papa I loved him and I told him a long time ago...'don't tell me you love me because I'm not going to say it back.'"

Me: "That is so sad.  I can't believe you said that to him."

Mama just stares at me and then with a gleam in her eye and a sly grin says: "You'll see."

Me: "Stop saying that to me and stop wishing that on me."

Mama: "I'm not wishing it on you nena, I'm just trying to tell you..."

As I stare back out onto the ocean, I just stare....I let every thought running through my head just pass through me...Mama was hurt.  She was hurt bad.  She's seen things in her life that forever changed her. Slowly, I'm peeling back the layers and finding her reality.  While she can site a list of reasons to not trust someone I can find only one to trust someone...love.  Perhaps I'm a stupid romantic.  A stupid young woman headed for severe heartache, but I've had by heart torn to pieces...I know what it feels like to have the rug pulled out from under you and while it changed me for a looong while, I eventually found my way back.  For me, to give up on love is to give up on life.  For Mama, tough skin has helped her survive.  For me, tough skin would eat me alive...it almost did.  

So, I let Mama talk...and I listen (she has lived quite a life after all).   I tease her about her bleak outlook and she teases me about my rose colored glasses.  Somewhere in between the two perspectives lies truth....the truth that no matter how much you try to protect yourself (be it with thorns or feathers), life happens...and you just have to deal.

Max gets banned from the beach!

Ok so like I said yesterday, Mama and I decided to head to the whale watching festival on Saturday in Rincón.  Normally, we take Max along but this time when I asked Mama if she wanted to take him she quickly said, "No, he's had enough of an adventure today." (See: Demon Dog post).  In reality, though, we both knew the REAL reason why Max wasn't heading out with us....

Max chilling on his couch

About a week ago Mama and I headed to our local beach for our weekly beach day.  As usual, we took Max along with us.  Overall, things were status quo...Max was trying to eat the sand, constantly digging for who knows what, crying a bit but then chilling, Mama was doing her word search and I was laying out reading and taking sun.  Finally, Max had enough sitting around and was ready for a change of scenery, so I decided to take him for our usual mini walk.  I knew he was just dying to get on the grass and pee on every tree he could find.  Damn dogs and their territory peeing...so anyway, next thing I know, Max is squatting down fully ready to take a poop.  Although my preference was for Max NOT to poop, I knew it would be fine since I came prepared with a plastic bag.  I mean really, we aren't even supposed to have Max on this beach and I am a former dog hater so I know that if I saw a dog squatting down to take a poop at my local beach, I would want to see the owner cleaning it up ASAP!

Max loves his travel bag

Everything would have been fine had he actually pooped like he was supposed to...but he squatted and nothing fell...he squatted again and nothing fell yet again...then he started walking in a squat....it was the craziest thing!  It was like he was still trying to poop but at the same time walking around, trying to find the perfect patch of grass to do it in.  Finally he gave up and started walking normally....and that's when I saw it.  There, in the midst of all his butt hair was a shadow...the poop had come out, it just hadn't fallen yet.  So there he was, little Max, walking with a turd hanging halfway out his behind!  I quickly walked him back to Mama (she is his real owner after all).  I figured I'd consult with her on what to do next, and to be honest, was secretly hoping she would just take care of it.  For a quick second I thought, I am NOT dealing with dog poop, this is her dog.  No way.


I sat down next to Mama and said (in broken Spanish) "I think Max pooped but its still in his butt...like still in the hair and stuff."  Mama hardly looked up from her crossword puzzle and just said "Oh."  I looked at her and realized, this is so going to be on me.  I'm going to have to deal with Max's ass today.  Because while this is your grandma's dog, she is still your grandma and you are here to help.  Get ready Mish because you and Max are about to get to know each other a little better.  My heart sank.  As if she were reading my mind, she put her book down and said "What's going on?" I reiterated that he had a turd hanging from his behind.  She said "We have napkins, here."  She passes me one and then I remember I also threw a bag of baby wipes in my bag before we left for the beach.  "Pass me the bag of wipes Mama."  She passes them, I grab Max, pray that this turns out to be a quick and clean process, and proceed to dig in.

Quick and clean it was not.  I was hoping it would be like removing a peanut M&M from a tangle of hair...instead it was like removing melted chocolate from a rug --- I know.  Ugly.  Sooooooo ugly!  While I tried my hardest not to curse or get angry...all I could say was "We have to go home Mama...like now."  She just stared at this craziness...Max was crying, I was feverishly trying to use every baby wipe I had, and nothing was working.  We also, thankfully, had some wee wee pads with us...so we wrapped his behind in the wee wee pads, put him back in his travel bag and packed up as quickly as we could.  As we drove home, (with the windows all the way down) all poor Max heard from both Mama and I was "Never again are you coming to the beach."  "No more beach for you Max." "Aye, poor Max, its not your fault."  Mama was also peeved because he had just gone to the groomer a few days before and she specifically requested that the groomer cut Max's booty hair.  "I told him to cut it because this is what happens!"  Mama then put her face to the window...I'm sure she needed to try to get a breathe of fresh air...dog poop in a small, hot car is just...ugh...how do I put it...well, its just down right offensive.

Once we got home, Max went straight into the tub.  He was scrubbed down several times with doggie shampoo followed by a nice smelling conditioner.  Finally, once he was dry and calm again, Mama took a scissor to his booty as to make sure we were never traumatized like that again...and that is how Max got banned from the beach.

Megatron

Today, as I sat in a hot Puerto Rican house, making small talk with family members while watching "Maid in Manhattan", my Blackberry chimed.  The chime was a familiar one.  I have a new e-mail, I thought.  So, while everyone else was mesmerized by J-Lo's breathy line delivery, I checked my phone.

It was a forward and all that was written to me was "Crazy!".  I scrolled down only to see a link to a news article...and there it was: "DJ Megatron Shot and Killed In NY"

For a short time, quite a few years ago in Philadelphia, Megatron and I worked together at Radio One.  I hadn't spoken to Mega in years, but that made no difference when the news came that this young man, this father of three, was shot dead this morning in Staten Island.  Murdered and taken just like that.

All I can flash back to is Mega...always accommodating- always chill - always New York - always charismatic - always working - always offering advice - always humble...Mega.  I am having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that he's actually gone, so I can't even imagine what his family and close friends are going through.

As we journey through this life many of us strive to make a mark here, to feel like we accomplished something, like we mattered.  Corey McGriff mattered...and it had nothing to do with his resumé.  Whether you knew him for 5 minutes or 15 years, he made a lasting impression on you.   May you rest in peace Mega, your family is in my prayers...

To my radio family... I truly miss you all.  "The radio life" is like this club that we all belong to...like when we see each other its a mini reunion and a floodgate of memories just come back...all the ups and the downs...damn, its so hard to put into words.  That was a time in my life that I will never forget and so I'm thanking each and every one of you...from Bent to Colby, E. to Brother E., Rashida to Nia, Kit Kat to Sarah, Helen to Raph, Renny to Nelly, Drewdy to Will, Moshay to Michael Shawn, Laiya to Pooch to Monie...the list goes on and on....you each made a lasting memory, each played a part (whether big or small ) that helped to develop me into who I am today.  Unfortunately, sometimes it takes horrific events like this one to force us to stop and reflect.  Enjoy every moment, every breathe and every encounter...

Corey McGriff aka Megatron

Mama, Misha, Max....and the DEMON DOG!

Yesterday Mama and I headed to one of our favorite beach areas (Rincon) to enjoy the festivities surrounding whale watching season here.  It was absolutely awesome.  A gorgeous day filled with street vendors, sun, sand and waves!  While Mama's dog Max is usually with us on our beach adventures, we unanimously opted to give him a rest.  Mama broke the news to him by saying "Max, you are not going because you already had a very busy day.  You've been out enough so you're going to stay here and we'll see you later."  No, she really said that...except it was in Spanish and in a really high pitched, motherly tone.  Total comedy.

The reason Mama felt he was out enough was because not only did he have his usual morning walk with Mama, but he also had an afternoon adventure with the both of us.  That morning, like every morning before that, she walked around our new neighborhood baseball field (which she refers to as a track but its really just a tar walking area around a baseball field) two times.  Mama says that whenever she asks Max if he wants to go around again, he says "no" by pulling her towards the exit.  So, yesterday, a few hours after they returned from their morning walk, I asked her if she wanted to accompany me on another walk to the local pharmacy to get some back pain medication.  See, the day before I kinda pulled something in my back while cleaning Mama's fridge (that baby is now sparkling though so it might just be worth it).  She agreed to walk with me and when I suggested taking Max, no lie, he started jumping up and down running from her feet to mine and back!  (No, really, Mama might be right, Max might really be smart!)  So she took him.

The walk to the pharmacy was quite nice.  Initially I was a little worried that little brave Max might run into stray dog trouble on our mini excursion (since Puerto Rico has a huge stray dog issue), but Mama was super confident that everything would be fine.  Everything was fine... until we were literally 10 feet from the pharmacy parking lot.

10 feet from the pharmacy parking lot was a house...with an open driveway.  In that open driveway was a medium sized white dog with brown spots.  This dog was mean and annoying.  As soon as we entered her line of sight she was up and headed straight for us.  Mama scooped Max up in her arms and held his big mouth closed.  She then said "Walk.  She's not going to do anything, just keep walking."  I half believed her and just kept walking as I heard the barking continue to follow us.  I couldn't help but look back...only to find that we were being stalked and chased in slow motion by this dog who was looking meaner by the second.  I told Mama "She's still following us."  Mama kept calm and said "Don't show fear.  She'll stop soon, just keep walking."  I followed her instructions but kept looking back...

If this dog is going to attack I need to be prepared to protect my grandma and Max!  How am I going to do that?!  Do I kick it?!  Do I throw something?!  Why oh why do I have to be wearing shorts today?!  My legs probably look like dinner to this damn dog!  


By the time we took five steps into the pharmacy parking lot, the dog froze.  She didn't dare walk any further into the parking lot, but did take the time to send a few more precautionary barks our way...as if to say "I'll be waiting for you on the way back and its not going to be so pretty next time!"  As soon as I told Mama that the dog stopped following us she responded with confidence "I told you, she's not going to do anything."

Mama must have half believed that because as soon as we were done in the pharmacy, I suggested we try to find an alternative route to getting home.  The objective was to avoid that one house.  If we could avoid walking in front of that ONE house we would be home free.  So, we took a random staircase, walked across an abandoned parking lot, discovered an elderly housing apartment complex, scoped out some potential bachelors for Mama (although she kindly let me know that her preference lies in handsome men in their 50's and 60's), and ultimately found ourselves facing a dead end.  Mama and I both knew we were going to have to face the demon dog again and neither one of us was looking forward to it.  I am a chicken s*it...especially when it comes to animals.  My grandma is not, but she is 87 years old.  While Max is also brave, and stands up to every dog like he's a pit bull, the reality is he weighs just under 5 lbs. soaking wet.  Needless to say, all three of us were operating slightly handicapped.  So, I came to the conclusion that it was up to me to find my bravery so I that I could protect my grandma and her dog.  I continued to mentally pep talk myself as I realized...


I need to find a weapon.  Rocks? I dunno, is that overdoing it?  Will that just encourage the dog to attack?  What about the owners?  I mean really.  Lock that damn dog up!!  She doesn't look like a stray yet she's terrorizing the neighborhood with her presence.  I need a stick!  Everyone in Puerto Rico walks with a stick!  Wait, don't dogs fetch sticks?  Back home, my dog Chico jumps for anything you have in your hand, especially if he thinks you're going to throw it!  Oh my goodness, what if I grab a stick and then the dog catches it in his mouth?!  Suck it up Michelle!  You need to protect and know that you will be ok.  Hitting the dog is worse case scenario.  Be brave and show no fear!


As we approached the demon dog's block, Mama and I silently agreed that we should cross the street....except there was no real sidewalk!  It was an unpaved road complete with grass and rocks and random garbage that can be found on any stretch of road next to a busy highway (oh yeah, the non paved street we chose to walk on is also right next to a busy highway).  I think its safe to say that as we walked as far as we could out of this dog's view, I was imploring Mama to "please be careful" as I held her hand (and she carried Max).  Then, I heard barking.  I told Mama.  She responded "That dog is not barking at us, its barking at the cars driving by, she doesn't even know we're here.  We're fine."  Sure enough, as we exited the mini highway jungle we just trudged through...our trusty old demon dog was crossing the street to come meet us!!  We walked maybe ten paces before I saw anything that even resembled a stick.  The first thing I grabbed ended up being a flimsy piece of palm tree.  I threw it down in a hurry and grabbed another stick...this time a real one.  All the while Mama was still yelling at this dog to "GO HOME!" I picked up the stick and motioned to hit her.  She backed down but continued to bark.  We continued to walk...as Mama assured me, "We're fine, she's not coming for us anymore."  I looked back and saw that Mama was right, the dog had stopped barking and stopped following us (she resorted to angrily sniffing around in the dirt).  Mama, suddenly confident (as if she had not just damn near scaled a highway to avoid this dog) said "Dogs that bark don't bite...its the silent ones that you have to watch out for." I continued to look over my shoulder until we got around the block.  Then, my spaghetti bones became dense again as I clung to my new walking stick.  I hope to never have to use it, but at least I have it.  Let's just hope the next demon dog we encounter doesn't have a fetish for playing fetch!

Up next: the REAL reason Max didn't make it to Rincon with us!

Family Juggle

Cramming into the minivan!

My less than perfect San Juan mini vacation rolled right into a mini family reunion in San Antonio, Texas!  We came together to proudly watch my little brother (who is not so little anymore) graduate from Air Force boot camp.  Seven adults in one house, consisting of five women and two men, could have easily proved to be a disasterous mix.  But, we still came together to congratulate a kid whom we were all pretty worried about not even 6 months ago.  Who we met in San Antonio was a refined gentleman, exuding the confidence and promise we always knew was there.

Momma's Boys!

Robert was only given one day where he was allowed to go off base with us.  That day, he was finally able to kick back, relax, lay around our rental home and creep back into the fold of our family.  At one point during that day I needed to take a moment outside alone...this film of sadness had suddenly rolled over me.  As I searched for internal peace on a bench outside, someone creeped up next to me.  Thankfully that someone was my mom.  Thankfully she needed a manicure.  And so it started...between filing her nails and massaging lotion into her hands, we counseled each other.  I was watching my baby brother transform before my eyes and while I have readily accepted the complete overhaul my entire family is undergoing, I don't think I was prepared for this feeling.

"He's my baby boy."

Watching, listening and thinking

I explained to mom "He's changing...and I just don't want to lose him...I love him so much."  My voice cracked, so I looked down and continued to lotion her hands.  The last thing I wanted was anyone of the other 1,000 family members to come out the house and see me crying....I didn't need a telephone game of "Misha is crying outside but I don't know why" to begin.  As I tried to literally suck up my tears, Mom responded in a voice as warm as the sun, "How do you think I feel?  He's my last one.  I went through this with all of you and believe it or not, you have all changed through the years and you will continue to change.  Misha, we're family and we just have to keep loving each other.  This is life.  But, it's not easy for me either.  He's my baby boy.  You're all my babies and you're all grown up."  My father had been lingering a bit...he seems to have a knack for hearing my sniffle from a mile away...he got the jist of what we were talking about and added his two sense, "Baby girl, this is not easy for any of us, believe me.  But, we're all going to be just fine."  Suddenly that film of sadness subsided.  I wasn't alone.  All I needed to do was talk.

Me n Ma strolling San An

Me, Pa and The Riverwalk

It sounds weird but, in a way, my parents have become my friends.  I think they've become easier to talk to as a result of a few factors, one significant one is the way I view them has changed.  I want to know them and I want them to know me.  I respect them and truly value their opinion.  No, we don't always agree, but the platform is there for conversation.  I can vent.  I can listen.  I can be honest, because while I may value their opinion, I am no longer worried about whether they are judging me or not.  Often times, judgement is self inflicted.  We're riddled with a nagging sense of insecurity that we tell ourselves is coming from others, when really its a prison we put ourselves in. 

Outdoor Salon

Wacka Wacka!

Mom's manicure rolled into an eyebrow treatment, which led to a manicure for Auntie Val, which led to Cousin Bibi offering her nail painting assistance and finally followed by Titi Annie's company... all in the San Antonio sun.  Meanwhile, the boys were enjoying some college hoops in the house.

  Before I knew it I was dropping my parents off to the airport, once again fighting down a tremendous lump in my throat.  Seeing them off was torturous.  I just wanted them to throw me in their suitcase and take me home.  "Please come visit me soon." I pleaded.  I was officially smacked in the face with home sickness.  My mom grabbed me tightly and whispered in my ear "Misha, I know you're being pulled in a lot of directions right now.  I know its difficult sometimes but remember how strong you are.  Remember to continue to pray...look at what prayer has done for our family.  I love you and I will see you soon."  Remember to continue to pray...that came from my mom.  My mom who, just last year, could be found scoffing and saying, "...yes I'm coming to church today but (sigh) we're not making this a habit..."  God is so good, through him all things are possible!

Big Bro, Lil Sis

Why is Danny so cool?

Roach Race

My official bib!

World’s Best 10K mission complete!  World’s Best 10K is an annual 6.2 mile race in San Juan.  Once I knew I was moving to Puerto Rico, I knew I had to participate!  So, on Sunday, February 27^th at 5pm, I lined up with the 3,000+ other participants and began to turn a ‘to do' into a ‘done’ on my PR bucket list.

The route

I’m happy to report that I not only completed the race (with a medal to prove it) but I never stopped jogging!  It got a bit challenging during the last mile or so, but I powered through (with the help of my iPod).  In the end, I was proud of myself.  I set out to do something and I did it…alone.  Well, I mean I did have my boyfriend there to cheer me on, but in the sea of spectators I was unable to find him until the very end.

Participants

Race day was crazy.  People of all types came out - some to participate, some to make a buck, some to save souls, and others to spread their political ideals.  There were hoodlums in pink ski caps (yes, warm ski caps in 80 degree weather), there were grown men dressed as Batman and Robin (some people will do anything to make it on TV), there were first timers from Ohio, groups of female joggers from all over the country (they come together a few times a year to participate in events like this all over the United States), there was a marathon grandma (who I think just does her cool 6.2 miles to keep her in shape between the REAL races), and there was even an 83 year old jogger holding up a sign while jogging to let everyone know he was 83 and still doing it (he finished way before me by the way).

While a better job needs to be done in keeping the walkers behind the runners, overall it was an awesome event.  I look forward to next year and to participating in similar events like this one around the island.

The beach just steps away

Since the race was across the island from where I stay, I decided to turn it into a mini vacation.  So, I convinced my boyfriend to meet me out there.  Although it really didn’t take much convincing, I mean he’d get to cheer me on in a tropical environment and escape the bone chilling cold of Ohio.

Then, I found a beachfront apartment for a super cheap rate in the heart of an exclusive neighborhood! An apartment meant kitchen, which meant we could also save money on eating out.  I would finally be able to flex my newly acquired cooking skills (thanks to Mama).  Everything seemed to be falling into place!

I thought nothing of the low price because I was connected to the owner of the apartment through an associate of mine.  Apparently, the woman doesn’t usually rent her place out but I came along at a time where she was in need of a few bucks and so she figured this would be a win-win for the both of us.  So, on February 23^rd I arrived at Avenida Isla Verde ready to settle into our awesome apartment before I headed off to the airport to get my guy.

Space between freezer and fridge

Fridge

Upon my arrival, she gives me a tour of the place and immediately I notice its not as clean as I would have liked or would have expected for a woman letting strangers use her apartment for a week.  Then she says “…also, the building is having a problem with roaches.  They are trying to take care of it and they come weekly but its kinda bad but I didn’t think it was a big deal to mention…” she trailed off and quickly changed the subject.  Then she hurried off to meet her father for dinner -- leaving her overly hairy, overly affectionate poodle with me.  I was shocked and confused. 

Roaches?!  A little/big problem?!  I have a race in four days!!  Weeks ago both affordable and expensive hotels were mostly sold out!  What am I gonna do now?!  How do I break this to Scott?!  This poodle really needs to back up!!

I decided to chill.

Don’t make any rash or emotional decisions Michelle.  Chill out, put on the TV and take off your diva hat. 

Our "teenage" roaches (they were all sizes)

So, I gave myself a manicure and lost myself in a Top Chef marathon.  Then, I saw my first roach.  It was crawling on the dresser that the television was on.  I tried to sneak up on it but it hid away into one of her drawers before I could kill it.  Those were her drawers and her private stuff so I just let it live.  The last thing I wanted was her walking in to see me in front of one of her open drawers.  I then went to use the bathroom and realized there was a layer of dust/sand on the bathroom floor, spots on the bathroom mirror, not to mention the sink nor the toilet nor the shower looked like they had been recently cleaned.  Considering she had charged a “cleaning fee”, I knew there was a discussion to be had.  Upon her return I told her that I was deducting a majority of the cleaning fee she charged because quite frankly, the apartment wasn’t clean.  It was one of the most awkward conversations of my life…especially when she insisted I show her just what wasn’t clean.  Either way, she may not have agreed with my opinion but she definitely did not get that cleaning money.

10K Fitness Festival!

Finally, it was time to pick Scott up from the airport.  I was so happy to see him but soon after we got into the car I knew I had to prepare him for what he was about to see.  For the most part, he was cool about it.  But then, we realized that these roaches really believed that we were visiting THEIR home.  Like usually roaches wait until the evening to come out…they live in the shadows of your home, but nope.  These roaches were coming out to say “Good morning!”, “Good afternoon!”, “Hey, you're back? We missed you!".  It got so bad that we would walk in and say “Hey, kids we’re home!  Don’t hide on our account, we know you want to say hi!”.  Sometimes you gotta laugh to stop from crying (or killing someone).

Ready to clean!

I know what you’re thinking: Why didn’t you just go somewhere else?!  Great question.  Well, like I explained before, pretty much everything was sold out and anything that wasn’t, was really expensive.  Not to mention, we’d have to eat out every day because we'd be moving to a hotel room (and I brought a bunch of food with me ready to cook).  We did, however, find one place that fit in our budget and was advertised as a studio apartment in a gated community.  Well, the “gated community” turned out to be a large compound (smack in the middle of the hood) with a big electric gate around it…and what looked to be a stray dog in the compound.  Also, the “studio” was a dark, 1^st floor room with a refrigerator and a13 inch television with at least an inch of dust on it…did I mention it was situated next to the broom closet?  Oh yeah, and Scott said he spotted some roaches in there too…some on the floor and a few in the frame of a picture that hung on a wall.

We decided to have a seat at a local panaderia (bakery) and discuss our options over breakfast.  Essentially it was a game of “Pick Your Poison”.  So, I posed a question to the both of us:  If we were rained in, which apartment would we prefer?

We came to the conclusion that between the two, the original apartment was probably still the best option.  While we were obviously staying in the equivalent of a roach motel, there was a panoramic view of the ocean, a private pool, a private entrance to the beach steps from the building, a private gym and an indoor reserved parking spot.  Not to mention, the neighborhood was pretty exclusive so we felt safe and there was a lot that we could do without having to drive anywhere.  So, we decided to use the money I saved us to purchase cleaning products, a bottle of wine and some beer (we knew we’d need all of those items to survive the week).  If we were going to stay there we had to whip that place into shape!  We cleaned our little hearts out and by the afternoon, we could visibly see the difference.  

Unfortunately, more than once we had to battle the critters head on (see video), but we survived.  No, we couldn’t cure what seemed like months of neglect in one week (nor were we aiming to), but we were able to bring the place to a level of comfort for us.

How I slept...

After discovering a few dog ticks (yes, I said dog ticks…thanks to that overly hairy poodle she had), we decided to just leave a night early.  We toured San Juan, Old San Juan and everything in between…eventually napping in my car before we headed to the airport.  In no way was this, the mini vacation I dreamed of.  Its pretty sad since I haven’t seen Scott since New Years and I truly don’t know when we’ll be able to coordinate our schedules again.  This was also his first visit to my island, and it was hardly the manner in which I wanted to welcome him to Puerto Rico.  Nor is this the impression I wanted him to have about an island that I have come to love. 

The positives?  Well, we persevered.  We exercised teamwork and patience and truly rose above roaches (haaa)!  We made lemonade out of some pretty gigantic lemons and that experience definitely strengthened our relationship.   Other positives?  We were never rained in.  So, our days were filled with Old San Juan, the beach, the Bacardi factory and El Yunque rainforest. 

El Yunque

Old San Juan

While all the aforementioned places served as great experiences, the best experience, without a doubt was El Yunque.  Joey, Tito and Jeffrey at La Muralla Restaurant made us feel right at home.  We felt welcomed with positivity and a sense of unity from the moment we stood at the window and ordered our empanadillas and coco frio.

We actually ended up there pretty randomly.  We were on our way out of the rainforest when we realized we should probably get a bite to eat before we headed back.  Initially we stopped at another stand further down the road, only to find a rude waitress and subpar offerings.  We remembered there was another stand up the hill and so we decided to hoof it in hopes for a friendlier face and more appetizing food.  It was a cash only joint and we only had about $9 between us in cash.  So as we ordered we visualized a register minusing our money piece by piece (kinda the way Dave Chappelle did on his date in Half Baked).  

Mmmm Coco Frio!

Joey seemed privy to what we were doing so when I asked him how much it would be to add a shot into the coco frio (fresh coconut with the water still in it) we ordered (according to my aunt you NEED the shot), he replied “Don’t worry about it, I got you.”

Finally, it was time to pay.  We had come in just over $8.  I happily pulled out the money we had left…only to discover we actually only had $5!  Joey coolly responded, “Just give me what you got.  Yall are good.  Enjoy.”  After thanking him, he invited us to sit and enjoy our food in the restaurant.  “We’re closing but yall can take your time and just chill.”   Judging by his accent, we just knew he had to be a New York dude.  I tried to explain to Scott that THIS was the Puerto Rico I knew and loved…warm smiles and nice people who quickly offer a “Bien Provecho” (“good appetite” is the loose translation of the greeting you give someone if you pass by while they’re eating).  Who knew we’d find it in a guy named Joey at a food stand in the middle of El Yunque.  Just before we left, we thanked them again, and we just had to ask “Are you from New York?” He said “Of course!  Brooklyn!"  We cracked up and traded stories of how we came to be here.  He said "Nine years ago I came out here to help my pops with something and I never went back.  F the cold man, I can’t do it!”

Joey

Tito

I told him about my blog and assured him he would make it in.  Here it is Joey!  I hope you’re reading this.  Thanks to you and your boys, our El Yunque/San Juan will forever be a positively memorable experience.

Jeffrey with our Coco Frio