I am just writing to tell you all how hectic life has been! I am still here in sunny, sticky Puerto Rico. I have safely survived all of the funeral formalities for my grandfather so far, and my Dad came and left already. That sucks.
I did kind of hope to develop what would appear to be some sort of social life during my visit here, but as of yet, that hasn't happened in the least. Indeed, the most interesting excursions I have been on so far have been eating at the local bakery (Madrid) with my father, which is just a few short blocks away from home, going to Plaza Las Americas (Puerto Rico's largest mall), and visiting Old San Juan, a treat of which I never tire.
For anyone visiting San Juan, one of the best places to eat is La Bombonera. It was established in 1902, and it is a must-do while staying here. Their specialty is a mallorca, a type of bread bun smothered in confectioner's sugar, with a cup of really strong cafe con leche (coffee with milk).
Also, try to visit Parque de las Palomas wihout actually being attacked by pigeons, like I was. It hurt like hell, I have to say, but I toughed it out, like everything else here.
Although I often feel as if my patience is wearing thin, I am weathering this period of time surprisingly well, if I do say so myself. The Segreles played at my grandfather's wake, which was an entertaining distraction, and I am actually trying to busy myself with doing homework, for a change (as opposed to finding homework incredibly boring and time-consuming!).
It is now evening 6 of our novena, a tradition that renders us the delightful opportunity to gather in Church and pray the Rosary for nine consecutive nights with a bevy of strangers that somehow became emotionally intertwined with "the deceased." What a joy.
I don't mind prayer, but I don't like the idea of strange people gathering with us, mooching off of my aunts' hospitality and actually believing that paying their respects will earn them some sort of indulgence in Heaven. Or maybe I'm just a cynical, but aren't these the same people who were too afraid to visit when my grandfather was gravely ill and bedridden? What kind of hypocritical alternate universe is this? And now they want to martyrize themselves?
Heck no. Maybe I should just tell them to leave a donation at the door and leave. Now, there's an idea!
I did kind of hope to develop what would appear to be some sort of social life during my visit here, but as of yet, that hasn't happened in the least. Indeed, the most interesting excursions I have been on so far have been eating at the local bakery (Madrid) with my father, which is just a few short blocks away from home, going to Plaza Las Americas (Puerto Rico's largest mall), and visiting Old San Juan, a treat of which I never tire.
For anyone visiting San Juan, one of the best places to eat is La Bombonera. It was established in 1902, and it is a must-do while staying here. Their specialty is a mallorca, a type of bread bun smothered in confectioner's sugar, with a cup of really strong cafe con leche (coffee with milk).
Also, try to visit Parque de las Palomas wihout actually being attacked by pigeons, like I was. It hurt like hell, I have to say, but I toughed it out, like everything else here.
Although I often feel as if my patience is wearing thin, I am weathering this period of time surprisingly well, if I do say so myself. The Segreles played at my grandfather's wake, which was an entertaining distraction, and I am actually trying to busy myself with doing homework, for a change (as opposed to finding homework incredibly boring and time-consuming!).
It is now evening 6 of our novena, a tradition that renders us the delightful opportunity to gather in Church and pray the Rosary for nine consecutive nights with a bevy of strangers that somehow became emotionally intertwined with "the deceased." What a joy.
I don't mind prayer, but I don't like the idea of strange people gathering with us, mooching off of my aunts' hospitality and actually believing that paying their respects will earn them some sort of indulgence in Heaven. Or maybe I'm just a cynical, but aren't these the same people who were too afraid to visit when my grandfather was gravely ill and bedridden? What kind of hypocritical alternate universe is this? And now they want to martyrize themselves?
Heck no. Maybe I should just tell them to leave a donation at the door and leave. Now, there's an idea!
posted by Laurita | 4:50 PM
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