We've been here for about a week, as it has taken some time to get supplies and get the boat ready to go. It has been sitting in a bay with many other boats, for about four and a half months, so there was a little maintenance to do, getting the engine ready and scraping weed off the bottom of the boat.
The weather ranges from 25-30 degrees, and the water is lovely, though we are waiting to swim until we get a little further away from the sewerage discharged by our fellow sailors.
Puerto Rico is much like Venezuela, except the people are generally richer, as this is an American protectorate. The people live in little colourful box-like houses, with iron bars across the windows. People seem to spend all their money on nice cars and none of it on roads, which have pot holes you could bathe in. The people are a mixture of African, Spanish and Amerindian ethnicity, which makes for some fine looking women, but, if you couple this with the many American fast food outlets, it can make for some generously proportioned rear ends, but hey, theres nothing wrong with a little "junk in the trunk", unless that junk gives you diabetes.
We will head out tomorrow or the next day, to the end of the island, and then a couple of days after that we will be in the Dominican Republic, where things will be a little more interesting.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
I'm leaving today
They say if you stay in a place for 3 days, you come home and write a book, you stay there for three months, you come home and write a page, you stay there for 3 years and you come home and write nothing. Too lazy to write a book, I shall condense my ignorance into a few paragraphs and tell you of New York and it's surrounds.
We drove for several days through the country, on highways that boggled my mind. They were huge and repetitive, same scenery, that of trees in autumn colours, with long straight roads that occasionally veered gently left, or right, with pit stops at set intervals, all reminding me of some kind of ancient computer game. Once we got off the main highway, the scenery became reminiscent of a movie, big red barns, tall roved old houses, American flags jutting out proudly from the front porch, big orange pumpkins in time for halloween, rockingchairs. The make-up of car drivers changes here too, white white white. We stop at a crossroads where a willow tree hangs over a river. My father sleeps on the grass. Big gas guzzling S.U.V's roar by, into a nearby mall, one of the many that seem to be even out here in the sticks. I relieve myself in the river. It's a nice little place, a quiet spot surrounded by trafic. Kids probably swam in this stream once, I reflect, and who knows, perhaps they will again, though they should probably wait at least few minutes, I figure.
We carry on to New York City, which is of course, huge. This could possibly be the biggest concentration of grand buildings in the world, many of them crowded together on Manhatan Island. Central park, huge, absolutely massive, itself containing a sizeable lake, 30+ tennis courts, a zoo, a museum, and I do not know what else. I imagine it would be a great place for vagrants to live, if they could get away with it.
The people are multiracial, with whites seeming to be a minority, even in the richest areas. There are many Hispanic people coming to and living in America now, doing the jobs no-one else wants to do, kind of like Pacific Islanders and Indo-Asian people in New Zealand. I get the feeling Al-Quaeda and their ilk have a skewed idea of what America is. Had they detonated a bomb in the more rural setting, I feel they would have struck those they were really after.
I cross Brooklyn bridge, I walk through China Town. Posters advertise a "made in 24hr" play starring Julia Styles. Anything made in 24 hours I figure will be severely distorted by caffeine, hysteria and sleep deprivation, but I do like the accessability of the stars, and had I been there on one of the nights it was playing, i definitely would have gone.
I meet a few Irish guys at the hostel. I ask them what they think
Guy one: It's great, it's been a real blast
Guy two: Funny though, cos we're Irish, everyone keeps telling us about ancestors they have, and how their grandfathers brother's friend is from ireland
Guy one: Yeah, what about that girl who said her ancestor was a O'Andrews or O'Craig or something, you know, I swear she just banged an "O" on a last name, and made the whole thing up I rekkon. White people seem to want to have some kind of identity, loik bein Italian, or Jewish, or whatever
I walk past front steps into brick apartment buildings that remind me of sesame street, and I see city hall, and picture the Marshmellow man against the skyline, the ghostbusters powering up to nail him. I look at the statue of liberty and imagine all the people coming in from European deprivation, desperate for a different kind of life. It's a little like visiting a giant movie set.
We drove for several days through the country, on highways that boggled my mind. They were huge and repetitive, same scenery, that of trees in autumn colours, with long straight roads that occasionally veered gently left, or right, with pit stops at set intervals, all reminding me of some kind of ancient computer game. Once we got off the main highway, the scenery became reminiscent of a movie, big red barns, tall roved old houses, American flags jutting out proudly from the front porch, big orange pumpkins in time for halloween, rockingchairs. The make-up of car drivers changes here too, white white white. We stop at a crossroads where a willow tree hangs over a river. My father sleeps on the grass. Big gas guzzling S.U.V's roar by, into a nearby mall, one of the many that seem to be even out here in the sticks. I relieve myself in the river. It's a nice little place, a quiet spot surrounded by trafic. Kids probably swam in this stream once, I reflect, and who knows, perhaps they will again, though they should probably wait at least few minutes, I figure.
We carry on to New York City, which is of course, huge. This could possibly be the biggest concentration of grand buildings in the world, many of them crowded together on Manhatan Island. Central park, huge, absolutely massive, itself containing a sizeable lake, 30+ tennis courts, a zoo, a museum, and I do not know what else. I imagine it would be a great place for vagrants to live, if they could get away with it.
The people are multiracial, with whites seeming to be a minority, even in the richest areas. There are many Hispanic people coming to and living in America now, doing the jobs no-one else wants to do, kind of like Pacific Islanders and Indo-Asian people in New Zealand. I get the feeling Al-Quaeda and their ilk have a skewed idea of what America is. Had they detonated a bomb in the more rural setting, I feel they would have struck those they were really after.
I cross Brooklyn bridge, I walk through China Town. Posters advertise a "made in 24hr" play starring Julia Styles. Anything made in 24 hours I figure will be severely distorted by caffeine, hysteria and sleep deprivation, but I do like the accessability of the stars, and had I been there on one of the nights it was playing, i definitely would have gone.
I meet a few Irish guys at the hostel. I ask them what they think
Guy one: It's great, it's been a real blast
Guy two: Funny though, cos we're Irish, everyone keeps telling us about ancestors they have, and how their grandfathers brother's friend is from ireland
Guy one: Yeah, what about that girl who said her ancestor was a O'Andrews or O'Craig or something, you know, I swear she just banged an "O" on a last name, and made the whole thing up I rekkon. White people seem to want to have some kind of identity, loik bein Italian, or Jewish, or whatever
I walk past front steps into brick apartment buildings that remind me of sesame street, and I see city hall, and picture the Marshmellow man against the skyline, the ghostbusters powering up to nail him. I look at the statue of liberty and imagine all the people coming in from European deprivation, desperate for a different kind of life. It's a little like visiting a giant movie set.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
This is L.A.
After an uneventful flight we arrived at L.A.X. Theres something about Los Angeles, perhaps its the dryness, the light pastel colours of the buildings, or the effect the smog has on the light, but everything looks washed out and old.
Our next plane was leaving from Longbeach airport, and was due to take us to New York, and the best way to Longbeach was by train. At the train station, I see a bunch of young guys and girls, dressed in kind of homie regalia hanging out under this huge overpass, with massive concrete pillars supporting it. A car pulls up, and then doubles back. A couple of the guys from the group of people hanging out then walked over to the car, and started talking excitedly to the guys in the car, one of the young homies pointed a finger at the car, and as he raised his voice, I realised that he was pointing it as if it was a gun, then one of the girls screamed "he's got a gun!" - suddenly both the young guys ran for the pillars, an Asian dude in the car behind does a quick U-turn, and screeches off. I see this arm lolling out the first cars window with a big silver pistol, kind of aiming casually in their direction, and then the arm hangs limp down by the door, as much to say "ahh, I can't be fucked" and the car drives off. A few people chat excitedly as the trian pulls up and everyone gets on board. "Compton" a voice called out over the intercom, "Next stop, Compton". I studiously avoid making eye contact with anyone.
An old guy gets on the train - "watches, you want some watches, they nice watches..". A couple of youths laugh, one of them humours him "yeah maybe later, you come back and see me". The youths get into a conversation, like they were in a movie
A: I bet that she disses you
B: How much?
A: I bet choo fai dallas
B: but waht do you consider a diss?
A: I don't know man, if she bring you down or sompin
B: So if she say "you aint on my level"
A: Yeah
B: What if she say "you aint on my level", and I bring the shit up, I say "but I wanna be on your level, are you feeling me?"
We get off the train. Another old guy forages through a rubbish bin for recyclable bottles and puts them in a big plastic bag. He's not wearing a uniform, so I figure its a freelance thing.
We talk to this Guatemalan girl, an older guy joins in the conversation. "Cuba? Oh, you goin to Cuba? Well, we can't go there you see. This is a free country, we should be able to go anywhere we want. Anyone should be able to go anywhere they want." He's fervent, and he's local, so I dare not disagree. "People come here to make more money, and I don't blame them." He starts to talk to the Guatemalan girl about what kind of visa she is on. "Well, you could get married" the guy says, "that would get you residency. One day, I'm going to marry a foreign girl, so that she can get residency." He pulls out a bunch of rings to show us. "I sell these, you know, to make a little money. I don't need it, you understand. I'm at a stage where I don't need to work, I worked all my life." He asks the girl which ring she likes. He tells her she can keep it. "Now you're married" he jokes.
The city may look faded to me, but the people don't. When you live in a place where you might get shot, and where you have to hustle a little, that gives you a kind of charge.
Our next plane was leaving from Longbeach airport, and was due to take us to New York, and the best way to Longbeach was by train. At the train station, I see a bunch of young guys and girls, dressed in kind of homie regalia hanging out under this huge overpass, with massive concrete pillars supporting it. A car pulls up, and then doubles back. A couple of the guys from the group of people hanging out then walked over to the car, and started talking excitedly to the guys in the car, one of the young homies pointed a finger at the car, and as he raised his voice, I realised that he was pointing it as if it was a gun, then one of the girls screamed "he's got a gun!" - suddenly both the young guys ran for the pillars, an Asian dude in the car behind does a quick U-turn, and screeches off. I see this arm lolling out the first cars window with a big silver pistol, kind of aiming casually in their direction, and then the arm hangs limp down by the door, as much to say "ahh, I can't be fucked" and the car drives off. A few people chat excitedly as the trian pulls up and everyone gets on board. "Compton" a voice called out over the intercom, "Next stop, Compton". I studiously avoid making eye contact with anyone.
An old guy gets on the train - "watches, you want some watches, they nice watches..". A couple of youths laugh, one of them humours him "yeah maybe later, you come back and see me". The youths get into a conversation, like they were in a movie
A: I bet that she disses you
B: How much?
A: I bet choo fai dallas
B: but waht do you consider a diss?
A: I don't know man, if she bring you down or sompin
B: So if she say "you aint on my level"
A: Yeah
B: What if she say "you aint on my level", and I bring the shit up, I say "but I wanna be on your level, are you feeling me?"
We get off the train. Another old guy forages through a rubbish bin for recyclable bottles and puts them in a big plastic bag. He's not wearing a uniform, so I figure its a freelance thing.
We talk to this Guatemalan girl, an older guy joins in the conversation. "Cuba? Oh, you goin to Cuba? Well, we can't go there you see. This is a free country, we should be able to go anywhere we want. Anyone should be able to go anywhere they want." He's fervent, and he's local, so I dare not disagree. "People come here to make more money, and I don't blame them." He starts to talk to the Guatemalan girl about what kind of visa she is on. "Well, you could get married" the guy says, "that would get you residency. One day, I'm going to marry a foreign girl, so that she can get residency." He pulls out a bunch of rings to show us. "I sell these, you know, to make a little money. I don't need it, you understand. I'm at a stage where I don't need to work, I worked all my life." He asks the girl which ring she likes. He tells her she can keep it. "Now you're married" he jokes.
The city may look faded to me, but the people don't. When you live in a place where you might get shot, and where you have to hustle a little, that gives you a kind of charge.
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