The Darker Side of Living in Puerto Rico

 Now that we have been down here for more than a month, most of the people I talk to back home are starting to wonder when this fad will end, and if we still like it here. They want to know if the newness has worn off, and almost to a person they want to hear about the negatives as if they are almost hoping we think it sucks by now. 

The picture above is of me (Buzz) at the beach this morning. Did I mention it is an island surrounded by beaches? I feel like those questions can mostly be reduced to one of the following:

A) Don't you miss the freezing cold that makes your bones hurt back home yet?

B) I hate my life and I hope your sucks too. If it doesn't suck then you're probably lying about something.

C) I actually love you guys and wish it would suck more for you down there so you will come back to Iowa. 

But, in the spirit of trying to answer all questions we receive, I will take a swing at the most common stuff here.

What about crime? Isn't Puerto Rico like some third world country?

NO. It is not a third world country. It is part of America in fact. Crime exists just like it does everywhere. In the big cities there is a problem with drugs just like everywhere, and there are related murders and crime just like everywhere, but below the averages for most "American" cities. Where we live (outside of the larger cities) crime is not that much of an issue, and since most crimes are property crimes, and the vast majority of those are crimes of opportunity, we simply try not to walk around with hundred dollar bills glued to our foreheads. 

What about healthcare? Aren't you worried that you will get sick and die for lack of medical attention or have to get worked on by some horse doctor or something?

No. They have real doctors and plenty of them. There are shortages of some specialty doctors here though. And the system works differently. You don't usually make appointments. You show up at the office and it is first come, first serve. When I went to the doctor I had to wait about an hour. 

Now, here is the rest of the story on healthcare. Most people do not worry about it so much here, because health issues, and even hospital stays, will not rack up million dollar bills. There is a flat rate for stays in the hospitals and they don't charge you like, $900 for an aspirin. I know. Crazy, right? 

Beyond that, when you need medications from a local pharmacy and they aren't controlled substances like opiate pain killers, you skip the doctor's visit, walk in and say I would like 100 anti-depressants so I can happily answer everyone's questions in my blog later, and an antibiotic for the ear infection the constant saltwater presence in my bad ear is causing, please. And then, like magic, the pharmacist gives you what you need, and at a fraction of the cost of in the States. Why? Why is it so much cheaper and easier everywhere else? Great question every American in the States should be asking themselves. 

What about DANGER? Aren't you afraid? Like, at night and stuff?

It's funny when I hear variations of this question. This one should actually be posed as "I am prejudiced as shit against people who don't look like me, and the most terrifying thing in the world is walking into a dark bar and being the only pasty white face inside."

Seriously. Prejudice is fear. People are all the same no matter where you go. We are not afraid of people. Any people. Sometimes we even find some that we like no matter where we go. 

If you are afraid of being the only pale face in a massive crowd of slightly darker faces after the sun has gone down, then don't come to Puerto Rico. Period. It's just that easy. Own your prejudices and recognize that nowhere on this entire island do the homogenized all-white resorts exist where the only "local" is that one bartender who smiles all the time and always makes your drink just so. 

What about the food? How is the food? Is it spicy like Mexico?

Well, here is where I will get myself into the trouble with my Puerto Rican friends. 

Mostly, the food is either fried at beachside places, or pretty bland. And when I say bland... I am talking about the 500 ways they try to turn plantains (the local starch and staple-think potatoes back in the Midwest), into something edible. 

I do not like plantains. They are bland and dry and mushy. The national dish is comprised of plantains that have been fried and mashed. It is called mofongo. It is like eating a baked potato that has been overcooked and stuffed into a dehydrator to remove any remaining traces of moisture. It is then covered with a variety of foodstuffs to try and make you forget there is a massive dollop of mofongo underneath it all, and the stuff is impervious to absorbing any other flavors. 

Every restaurant and every family has their own variation of mofongo. And by variation I mean that one recipe uses the right hand to add a pinch of salt, and another uses the left hand. Worst of all, everywhere you go they take tremendous pride in their mofongo and you end up having to pretend to love it while you swallow it in lumps with entire glasses of water for each tiny bite. 

There. I am keeping it real and will probably now be murdered in my sleep tonight for insulting mofongo. Because you never, ever say anything bad about mofongo here. Ever. It's like trying to live in the Midwest and say you don't like any pork or beef products. Ridiculous. 

Know what is amazing here? The bakeries. I had no idea that anywhere in the Caribbean you would find such an amazing array of baked goods and donuts and pastries and each one of them more wonderful than the last. Seriously. The picture above is what I had for lunch today after I left the beach. You can't tell it from the picture, but all of that is vegan and made from dehydrogenated seaweed and kale. 

Okay. Not really. Like back in the States, literally nothing in the bakery is good for you, but it is all amazing. And the breads. Don't get me started on the breads. There are entire storefronts that exist here with the sole purpose of distributing long, amazing deliciousness in a paper sack in the form of bread. People walk up and order two, four, or six loaves and walk away with a skip in their step. There is nothing like it. 

What About Infrastructure? Water? Power? Stuff like that?

Anytime you live on an island, anywhere, electricity and running water are more like luxury items. Turning on the tap is less of an anticipation for water than a hope. However, the house we live in has solar power with a Tesla battery, and a backup well for water. So we always have plenty of both. We haven't ran out of either one and based on the landlord's testimony, we never expect to. 

When I think failing infrastructure, my first thought is the roads. The roads are bad. Like, really bad. In the States, when you hit a big pothole that causes your bones to jar and your car to slam down on its leaf springs, you get pissed about it. You know where those are because there might only be one like it in your entire town. You complain. The neighbors complain. It gets fixed. 

In Puerto Rico, there are pot holes that will bottom out your car and bust your tie rods. Not only do they exist. They are everywhere. There are probably two in every hundred feet of road or so depending upon where you are. In other places, they have paved over the old road so many times and left the sewer manhole covers at their original elevations, that they themselves have become foot deep obstacles you can bottom out in, and there are a lot of manhole covers. A lot.  

In some places, the local residents have created a new form of protest by planting plants and small palms in the pot holes. While it is good to know where the big ones are, having small trees in the middle road makes driving even more interesting. 

When the side of a road washes out, it is not replaced straight away. Instead, a large orange cone is set up. When the cone falls into the washout and the road continues to collapse, a concrete barrier is put up along it...on the road. This makes the already narrow roads just wide enough for two professionally trained stunt bicyclists to pass one another, or one tiny car. When two cars pass in these narrows, neither ever yields, and you just sort of have to close your eyes and brace for the impact as you defy physics and squeak through. And these are frequent. 

Stop signs and laws are more like quaint suggestions. If you are travelling in a straight line in the States, rules of the road and the law dictates that you have the right of way. Here, it is the expected norm for anyone turning onto the road to simply pull out in front of you, pause halfway into the lane, and then look before going on ahead. 

But for every time someone pulls out in front of you, someone else will let you go ahead of them when they are driving in a straight line, so somehow, miraculously, it all works, and you actually get used to it. 

The Wildlife

When we first got down here I was expecting to constantly be on the lookout for snakes or tarantulas or scary things we didn't have in Iowa. However, after a week or so you stop even thinking about them as you trudge across a dark lawn to greet the UPS guy in your bare feet. P.S. The UPS guy shows up at like 10pm here after he finishes his business route. 

The things I worried about initially quickly gave way to other things I didn't anticipate. Like, the giant toads. Giant toads are an invasive species that were introduced by our capitalist friends from the American sugar corporations decades ago to eat some other thing they had accidentally introduced that was attacking their sugar cane crops. 

Giant toads rapidly became the scourge of our existence as they setup shop outside our windows at night and make a sound that can only be described as a hundred dying rabbits all screaming in unison. By night three I could have cared less how many tarantulas and snakes I stepped on when I went out clad only in underwear to hunt toads. 

The other thing is dogs. There are a lot of dogs here. When we vacationed here I always wondered why everyone who went for long walks through the towns carried some sort of stick that was more like a war club than a walking stick. It is because of the dogs. They have a tendency to pack up from time to time and bite people, Dogs are a problem here. 

If there is some other downside to the island I haven't mentioned yet, it would have to be the beaches. Why the beaches? Because there are so many amazing beaches you never really want to decide on going to just one of them. This is the quiet beach called Lala where I went this morning here in Rincon. There are prettier beaches, but this is the best one for swimming.  

I hope I've answered some of your questions. Thanks fore reading. We will post again when the photographer gets back from visiting her children and grandchildren in Iowa!