(Originally written in October 2019)
I rose around 6:30am and did a little meditation.
My next priority was to get some food. I told myself I was going to cook some meals, but that never actually happened. The tour tips suggested eating a hearty breakfast, as we would be hiking. Ony, the tour host, told me he’d pick me up at 9am, so I started browsing for breakfast spots. I scrolled to a listing for a place called Don Ruiz, and it was only about 500 feet away. I remembered my Airbnb host telling me there was some of the best coffee across the street from the apartment. I hadn’t noticed, but that must be it! It opened at 7:30. I got dressed, packed my bag for the day (a change of pants, towel, water and a little cash), and headed out around 7:26.
I was greeted by the dozen or so cats that roamed the little park/plaza just outside the apartment’s entryway. I played with them for a while before continuing to follow my phone’s GPS to the café. “Arrived,” it said as I stared at the side of a building – with no doorways. I turned it off and decided to just wander around the block until I found something. This place has to exist. I turned a corner and was facing the ocean; I kept walking. Soon enough, I saw a sidewalk sign for Don Ruiz. I walked into the massive interior courtyard. The building was about 3 or 4 stories high, verandas on every level. Artwork hung on some of the walls. I spotted another sign pointing me in the direction of the café. The door was cracked open so I stepped inside. I was the only person in there – also perfect, haha.
I walked up to the man behind the counter. “Good morning!” He greeted me back. “Are you open?” “Not yet –,” “I can come back in about 20 minutes…?” “No, no. Give me two minutes. Make yourself comfortable.” 15 minutes later, he came into the main dining area to let me know he was ready. We ended up getting into a little conversation. The coffee was from his family’s farm in Puerto Rico. “It was started by my great-grandfather,” he explained to me. The store had its own roaster facility, and Mr. Ruiz pointed out the machinery, and little “museum” of small-scale machines the family had used over the generations at their hacienda. I ordered “The Fort” Toast – French toast with fruits, and a latte – he had recommended one of his favorites, the Vanilla Rose brew. The wait was a little longer than I hoped but the food and coffee was excellent. Plus, Mr. Ruiz and one other person were the only ones manning the shop. The café quickly filled up, and I left about 20 minutes before my tour pick-up. One the way out I checked out the coffee trees Mr. Ruiz told me were outside. It’s harvesting season (August to January), so I could see all of the coffee cherries hanging from the stems. In a way, I still got my authentic coffee tour, just not in the way that I originally planned, so I was still grateful for the experience. I spent about $15 on this breakfast.
I later found out that the large building that housed Don Ruiz was Cuartel de Ballaja, a structure that was built between 1854 and 1864 to house Spanish troops. Within its walls is also Museo de las Americas, which is supposed to be one of the most comprehensive museums to feature the history and culture of the Americas from pre-Columbian to present day eras. Also surrounding the park by my apartment, was Casa Blanca Museum – built in 1521 as the first fortification and later as a residence for Juan Ponce de Leon, the first governor; and Museo del Indio. These were also on my to-do list, time permitting. It did not.
I waited in the park until a car pulled up a little after 9 – the driver inside waved at me. I walked over and he said my name, “Yep.” It was Ony. He was upbeat and lively. He told me there’d be two other people with us that day – a couple. We picked them up from a hotel about 5 minutes away. He was a basketball player and his wife, a teacher. Conversation was easy and free-flowing. Our host explained that he could take us to El Yunque, the only tropical rainforest in the U.S National Forest System – but it might be pretty crowded, especially on a Saturday; or, we could go to another forest that was “off the beaten path” and more of a local spot. At the second location, Carite Forest, we’d have a little more of a true outdoor hiking experience. We all agreed to take the more challenging course. Ony was stoked! Either way, we would’ve driven about 40 minutes from OSJ.
“I’ve always wanted to be on the show Survivor; this will be my training,” I joked. “Funny, because we’re going to Survivor Falls – Cascada SobreViviente!” the guide let me know. We passed the popular El Charco Azul, which already had cars packed on the side of the road. We continued on down the narrow, ever-winding roads. As we drove into the mountains, we noticed abandoned homes littered throughout the hills. “People own those – they just don’t live there. It’s property that’s been in the family for generations so folks just don’t give up the land,” he explained. We pulled onto a little dirt side-street. Three homes made up this section of the neighborhood. “I know this woman,” Ony said as we parked in front of a house. He grabbed a backpack and put water, juice, fruit and yogurts in it for the group, and off we went! Ducking and weaving past branches along the narrow path, we walked for a short time before coming to the first natural pond. We continued up the river, climbing and hopping on semi-wet stones. Ony had cautioned to not hesitate when rock-hopping; see where you want to go and go, stay light on your feet. I traversed the trail with gleeful ease until we reached the top pool. It was breathtaking! Gentle, mineral blue water filled the space between rocky walls. Where the sun hit, you could see clear down to the bottom! I threw off my clothes and hopped in. I swam around, continued exploring up the river a little more, and eventually took the first leap off of a rock ledge into the water. “It’s not super deep, so bend your legs as soon as you hit the water,” we were told. I didn’t have much fear with this one – I’d jumped off ledges into the ocean before. Here, I could see where I was going, and the water was completely still.
Next, we were encouraged to take on Survivor. Ony climbed out to the ledge of a single rock in the middle of the river and jumped off. “Don’t jump straight down, there are rocks. You see where the water is bubbling under the falls – that’s where you want to jump. Forward,” Ony demonstrated.
Maaaan, what am I doing?
The other guy jumped before me and also encouraged me to try it. From the bank, I had to make a little jump to land on the rock I’d leap from. It wasn’t a flat rock, and it was already extra slippery from having the two men jump off before me. I climbed up and started second-guessing my life decisions. Yet, I wasn’t going to go back. I made it this far on my journey already. This was an experience I wanted to have. I came to Puerto Rico by myself, I’m out here in the middle of this serene forest, immersing myself in my most favorite element – water. I knew how powerful my intentional thinking can be, so I wasn’t going to spook myself. Standing on the rock, I focused on my breath and was pleasantly overwhelmed by the turbulent sound of the water beside me. There was nothing to fear – not death, not injury, not drowning. I concentrated to make sure I had my balance on the rock – there was nothing I could hold onto or fall back on if something went wrong. I stood up and realized I was too far from the edge to safely jump – I’d only make the task harder on myself. I carefully took two steps towards the edge, and on the third my body realized it had to jump (if I tried to stop myself, I for sure would’ve hurt myself), and so I just… leapt. I didn’t think about it. One second I’m on the rock, the next I’m literally flying in the air. Now, I’ve been ziplining, but this – I mean, this was incomparable. No wires, no nets – just me, nature, and the rushing water beneath. Everything around me was unmoving and quiet…
Nothing else, at all, mattered for that moment. I honestly felt like I was just floating in the air; my only view – the endless line of trees and mountains in front of me.
I didn’t scream when I took my leap, but I screamed halfway through when I opened my eyes and it was a mix of “Wow, this is beautiful; I’m flying,” and “Why the f*ck am I just chillin’ in the air like this?!” It felt surreal, somewhat unnatural… but not. Ya girl had a little hang-time! I hit the water and everything went black. No light reached the depth to which I was submerged. It’s briefly disorienting.
Ony told us that the current moves to the left, towards the rocks, so to swim to the right towards the bank as soon as resurfaced. I kicked and kicked and kicked as hard as I could until I emerged – gasping for a breath of air as I tried to reorient myself – I could’ve come out downstream for all I knew, haha — and swam to the right. I could hear everyone cheering and whooping with excitement. The adrenaline was something I don’t think I’ve ever experienced before. It was intensely amazing. For the most part, I had felt absolute serenity as I soared through the air. I’m still in awe with my Self! Just wow. I will continue to search for ways to express what I felt jumping from that fall – it was a transcendental, spiritual experience. I’m grateful that I could capture that one little second where everything just seemed to pause, and bottle up that bliss and sense of freedom; away from the nonsense, and at one with the natural environment – jeeze, it was such a beautiful, worthwhile experience. I truly think that solidified a turning point in my life and how I feel about and trusted my Self, and what I am capable of. Throughout the day, Ony solidified me as the highlight of the day. He said that after all the years he’s done this tour, at an average of 3 per week, I was the first woman on his excursion to jump from that particular waterfall. “Me and (the guy participant) were betting that you weren’t going to do it, and then you jumped!” Ony revealed.
“I told y’all I was going to jump!”
Still settling down from the adrenaline rush, we headed out for our next stop. After the most strenuous part of the hike, we got to a relatively flat and straight portion of the path. As I’m walking, my hair got caught on a tree branch. I remember half turning around to free myself; I haphazardly fussed with my hair, thought I got loose and continued full speed ahead. That branch had other plans. It flung me back a bit, I tripped over a rock, and things went black. I don’t remember falling, just landing straight on my back. I hadn’t tried to catch myself or anything. My whole upper body felt the thud as my body hit the ground with full force. I heard a shrill scream behind me. I just laid there for a cool minute trying to figure out if I could move and what just happened. The couple and guide rushed over to me. “You almost hit your head on that rock!” A medium-sized jagged rock stuck out of the ground a few inches from my head. They helped me up, and in horror asked if I was okay. “Oh I’m good y’all. I’m fine.” And I kept on. As soon we got back to the car, we noticed blood on the back of my leg. I was cut diagonally across my entire right calf, from the inside of my leg, outward. Five minutes later, the pain kicked in and I also noticed a nasty scratch across the back of my right arm. “Oh. Hmm. I think I need some Neosporin, now.” I had been hyper-mindful to stay safe on the rocks, and the second I became mindless I wrecked myself, haha. Really shaking my head…
Our next stop was Los Siete Chorros in San Lorenzo. Before we reached our destination, we stopped at this little – I don’t know, it was like a shack that sold drinks, so Ony treated us all to a beer.
We pulled off on the side of the road and went into a diner-looking spot. Our guide said there was good, home-style cooked food. There was a TV on that was playing music videos. “Suavemente” by Elvis Crespo was playing. The guide pointed out his wife as one of the dancers. It was only right that we recorded a video dancing to the song, showering her with compliments, and sent it to her, haha. We ordered lunch and headed out back, past a house and right in their backyard was a beautiful set of waterfalls. The rock bed was hot and the water, warm. The funny part was, based on pictures, this was the “secret waterfall” I was supposed to go to on the originally-planned coffee and waterfall tour!
Once again, my little tour group were the only people at the falls. Ony showed us how to jump from these falls. Rocks closely enclosed the space, and barely three feet beyond where the water bubbled, it was extremely shallow. You had to jump straight down and directly beneath the fall. When it was my turn to jump, I got onto the impeccably tiny rock and I almost had a panic attack. There was very little margin for error so it was intimidating in its own way – not to mention several feet higher than the first waterfall. I almost backed down from this one but Ony offered to jump again and then I could follow him. I agreed. He came up, jumped in and turned around and waited for me. I immediately followed his lead and hopped in. I was kind of happy to get that one over with. I’m glad I tried it but I tapped out after that one. Instead, I chose to close my eyes and meditate, letting the water lap against my body.
Now, the food. Once again, I have never had meat (chicken this time) so tender! I had a side of the breadfruit tostones and a mango colada. The amount of chicken definitely lasted me two meals. Our guide climbed a tree and picked some starfruit (also called Carambola) for me to try, and the owner gave us all a shot of this fruit-infused tequila (on the house!). As we drove back to San Juan, we could see rain clouds hovering over El Yunque. Our day on the other hand, was sunny, not too hot, and clear all day. I’d say this adventure was a win. The tour was $65 and I spent about $15 on food.
I was dropped off last – we took a little scenic route through OSJ and my guide pointed out some great historical and food spots. I’m observant, so I started becoming familiar with the streets. I noticed El Morro Fort was just a block away from me. As Ony and I parted ways – he said to hit him up if I needed anything during my stay. He was an awesome host!
The water in the apartment had been off all day – well, after I brushed my teeth, but before I left for my adventures. I notified my Airbnb host and she said it should be on in a couple of hours. I changed, and headed right back out and took a stroll over to the Castillo de San Felipe del Morro. It is massive!
The fort and surrounding grounds span 74 acres and it was about 6 levels. The expansive lawns were filled with families and kite-flyers. It was $7 to enter El Morro, but the ticket also gets you into another nearby fort, Castillo de San Cristóbal. I learned about Puerto Rico’s strategic location as the “door” to the Caribbean, Central America, Cuba, Mexico, southeastern U.S, and northern South America. The city is actually, pretty much walled off. This particular site began being constructed in 1539, and took more than 200 years to complete! I wandered into the garitas, staring out past the black rocks to the turquoise blue waves swaying with the breeze; down triangular staircases and a tunnel to the Torre Antigua, where you can see a shell fragment from the 1898 US bombardment stuck in the wall; and its three flags – The US, Puerto Rican and Cross of Burgundy flag (an old Spanish military flag). The fort closed at 6pm that day, so I was only there for about an hour but it was enough time to explore many of the points of interest. Just outside the main walls of El Morro, I got a glimpse of intensely white headstones. It was the Santa María Magdalena de Pazzis Cemetery, a colonial-era resting place for prominent Puerto Rico natives and residents. You can tour it… but like, it’s a cemetery, soooo I just peered over the wall.
As the sun set, I made my way past the crowd and back to the apartment. I lit some candles and sat out on the front balcony reading my book. I love when it’s warm at night. I could hear a musical production coming from an event at a building two doors down. Conversations came in and out as people made their way through the plaza – kids and their parents, lovers out on a date.
Cruz had messaged me to go out that night. “I don’t have any water – I can’t shower yet.” “I can bring you some,” he said.
I considered going out to dance – I love dancing. I gave him the address and said we could meet in the plaza. He wanted to see me, go back to work, and then we’d go out. He rolled up in a white tank, basketball shorts, with the socks and slides-look. No water, haha. Are ya’ll shaking your head as much as I am right now? We sat on a bench; he put his arm around me. We shared a smoke over some conversation and laughter. I started dodging the kisses he continuously leaned in for. He had to readjust himself as he got, um… excited.
I reminded him not to have expectations, as he clearly had intentions – ones that didn’t seem to be aligning with mine. “I still want to take you to the beach… But tonight… we drink, smoke, dance, have a good time.”
I’ve been there, done that. I enjoy those evenings in strict moderation now, but I had to remind myself why I came on this trip. Sure, that experience could have made for a “great” vacation story to share, but it’s not the story I want to write right now. Yes, I was very (physically) attracted to him but the content of these chapters, as it pertains to sex, my self-love and worth, relationships, boundaries, creating the fulfilling experiences that I want for myself – this didn’t spark my inspiration. All of the “maybe if’s” had to go. I got caught up in habits/automatic behavior, because I knew from the moment we met what he wanted; I stopped being mindful. I wasn’t gonna play myself. We weren’t on the same frequency, so I had to let him go.
I struggled with guilt when I blew him off again, but I worked through that a helluva lot quicker than I have in the past (I got a great night’s sleep!) Neither of us were in some sort of “wrong,” It was a co-creation of actions. The greatest thing about leading your life, is that you can change at any moment. I turned on some music and danced around the living room. My Airbnb host checked on me regarding the water, but it was still off. She told me she’d refund me for that day. I was grateful because that was completely out of her control and it wasn’t a bother to go buy a jug of water. I thanked the universe for my lesson, and the reward for getting back on my path.
I had wanted to get a massage at some point but it was out of my budget. With the refund, I had the funds to book a 1-hour massage for later in my trip! Winning!