Rocking that *International* Paradise

Saturday morning, I sent Amanda a text that read, “There’s only a 30% chance of rain for today.  Want to go on an adventure?”  We decided to go hiking in the Toro Negro Forest in the afternoon—a state forest I had never been to, about an hour’s drive from where we live.  Jenni and Kelsey (and of course Josh) decided to come along, so by 12:30 the five of us were loaded into the car and headed west on the expressway. My most trusted PR travel website had been down in the morning, so I didn’t have their easy to follow directions in hand, but I had mapquested our route and written down the directions. It soon became apparent that it wasn’t going to be a day of easy travels, though. First, we missed our exit on the freeway.  When we hit Ponce, we turned around, keeping our eyes peeled for the Juana Diaz exit.  We’d only gone 10 kilometers too far, and with the help of google maps on my phone, we found the correct road. We turned onto PR 149, and had no trouble spotting our next tur

Tropical Storm Isaac is currently making its way to the south and west of Puerto Rico, and what that means for us is gray skies and intermittent rain, so far.  It also means that yesterday afternoon, school was canceled for today, the school being closed “until further notice.”  Seeing as last evening was more or less beautiful (a few scattered showers and some clouds, but no storms), we headed to the beach.  My conversation with one of the new teachers went something like this: (me) “We’re going to the beach.  Want to come?” “Ha, yeah, let’s do it!  Let’s live dangerously.” “Okay, see you soon!” “Wait, you were serious? I was totally kidding!” “I wasn’t.  The storm isn’t even getting here until tomorrow.  Let’s go.” It took just a little bit of cajoling, but we all ended up sitting on the beach, beverages in hand, watching the thunderheads in the distance.  It was a relaxing night—and we were treated to a pretty wonderful sunset, as well.  Brandemar Beach, Guaya

It’s hard to believe I’ve been back in Puerto Rico for almost a month already.  The time has passed quickly, and has been filled with getting to know one another, preparing for a new school year, and beginning the school year.  We haven’t had great luck with having beautiful, sunny Saturdays so far, so most of our weekends have been pretty uneventful.  There’s not much to do for excitement in Puerto Rico on a rainy day, as it turns out. Last weekend we did sneak in a cloudy hike in the rainforest on Saturday.  We made it to the peak with perfect timing; we snapped our pictures and enjoyed the view, and then the clouds rolled in, erasing the vista.  I particularly enjoyed the moment, because I felt like I was living an instant foretold.  Last spring, when Liz and I hiked to the same spot, a hiker coming up behind us told us that on a cloudy day, you could sit where we were standing and watch the clouds rush up the mountain towards you, shooting over your head and engulfing you. 

Today, I feel incredibly hopeful about what the new school year will bring.  Why?  Well, to start with, I had the immense pleasure of chucking 9 (NINE!) desks out of my classroom today.  And they’re not being replaced.  That’s right, folks; I’m told my largest class this year will be a whopping 19 students.  I was, quite literally, jumping up and down as I bid the ninth desk good-bye.  With only 20 desks in my room, there’s so much SPACE.  Group work will be a breeze.  I could have students sit in a circle for discussions.  When my student teacher comes second quarter, there would be room to give her a small desk (if I can scrounge up an extra piece of furniture at the school).  Beyond the class size issue (which I am excited about, not actually holding my breath on; last year my class sizes grew by 3-5 in the first few days of school), I also feel hopeful about my new classroom set-up (so much more organized and practical than last year), the cleanliness of my room so far (my fl

I’ve been back in Puerto Rico for ten days now, though it seems both much longer and much shorter at times.  My first week and a half has not brought a lot of excitement.  I’ve spent time meeting and getting to know our five new American teachers, settling in to my home here again, and setting up my classroom at school.  As tropical depressions pass by the island, we’ve been getting quite a lot of rain—which has eliminated the possibility of taking any extensive trips so far.  I have made it to Guavate, to introduce Amanda and Josh (one of the new couples) to the delicious lechón served there.  We went to Charco Azul that day as well, and watched the locals jump from the rocks into the blue-green pond.  I’ve been to our three “local” beaches, though this weekend swimming wasn’t possible at two of them due to angry, scary waves.  Last weekend Eddy took us to a place in Salinas playing merengue and bachata music, and I attempted to learn the basic merengue steps.  Probably looked q