I have been in Puerto Rico for almost two weeks now, but I hardly feel as though I am here at all. As soon as this all settles and becomes my reality, it will be time to leave. Everything will fade away for sometime, until my next encounter.

I've lived here from time to time since the age of thirteen; one of my earliest memories is of walking to the American school around the age of four. Held by my mother's hand, down the street from where I sit now... we were told that there was "no school today." (As I remember, it was Fecca who told us.)

One of the most refreshing things to do in a humid country like this, especially in a place like Central Aguirre, is to take a shower. (Usually 2, sometimes 3 times a day.) It took me a while to adjust once again to the faucet that runs one type of water. (As I constantly would reach and turn the left handle with no success.)

The water is best at night after a long humid day; some would describe it as "Dulce," as it overcomes your body. During the morning hours it is warmed by the sun, but take a shower in the midst of rain and it will most likely feel like jumping into an ice stream. There are things here that are so different from NYC and Worcester. Every night is filled with the calls of indigenous Coqui frogs that live outside my window. I hear my iguana friend ruffling in the leaves of the tree, and the constant blowing of the fan that I sometimes wake up and turn off in the middle of the night. The chickens call to the morning sun and the "skylight hole" in the ceiling brings light to my eyes around 5:45 as I lazily toss a pillow over my head. One can constantly hear the neighbor's activities, music being played, and dogs barking. You can really be left alone with your own thoughts in a place like this.

It's difficult to capture the light here in an image, so I sometimes don't bother at all, you simply can't take everything with you. The smell of the air and shape of the light become Memories. I am visiting with two family members, so perhaps that is why I feel different. (I am usually here alone for over three months at a time; I suppose I have Rochester and an MFA on my mind as well.)

I know one thing that has always somewhat troubled me for sometime, after reading my friend's writings, it comes to mind even stronger. I never get home sick.

I believe in "See you later..." I hate goodbyes... I just go. Here. There. Everywhere.

I figure, one of the worst and easiest things that could happen to me is death, so what's the worst that could happen? (That's how I got to NYC.) Perhaps I take for granted at times the few people around me, but as I do think about losing them, the thoughts become almost paralyzing. I really do enjoy spending time with my family, even if I tend to mostly live alone and apart from their understanding when it comes to certain views and decisions in my life. But that's OK because I know they care about me.