shocks

last sunday night, a 6.4-magnitude earthquake struck the waters some fifty kilometres off the more westerly side of the north coast of puerto rico. from the condo in san juan (located on the more easterly side of the island), we could feel it. right around midnight. the condo, perched way up on the 25th floor, swayed dramatically back and forth for many minutes, sending the thick vertical blinds -- hung like ginormous al dente linguine from the ceiling -- clashing against one another, despite the almost absent breeze. in that moment, my friend and i suddenly wished we were back home -- um, like, as soon as humanly or technologically possible: to the portal! -- in icy-cold canada, where, bearly (yeah, that's gonna warrant a chuckle soon) a week beforehand, a woman had sat in the coffee shop wearing an i'm-a-bear-or-a-cat-or-a-bearcat hat (*insert prescribed chuckle here*) to stay warm indoors. (actually, it was more of a cranial costume: a furry headpiece covering her forehead, hair, neck and upper back, and definitely flaunting animal ears.) in short: it was weird, but it was also that cold.

quakes aside, however, things here are more or less the same as back home.

i mean, sure, sure, the coffee shop on condado village's ashford avenue looks out on palm trees, is littered with FLAHrida-style accents (not to mention the associated lax attitude toward sun protection: leather-skins unite!) and bubbling with spanish, and sports significantly more bikinis than bear headwear. and sure, here, that cheese-infused delectable (over there, by the muffins) has a label in front of it that reads "local favorite," which admittedly makes my commonwealthed, let's-add-a-"u"-to-every-word eyes nearly bug out of my head: boyyoiiiingg!

but it's the same ole starbucks. the same (albeit pricier -- yeesh!) ole hot chocolate. the same ole perfect workspace for thesising. even some of the same ole tunes, including paris or amsterdam, mushaboom and (from the archives) hideout.

this musical blast of canadiana is a small example of how the most familiar things can double as the most shocking: who knew puerto rico was equally enamoured of Sarah Harmer! another such example was on monday, when a woman walked in through the door and, almost immediately (as in, before even lining up for her beverage), was hovering over one of my books, "multiculturalism within a bilingual framework." i instantly got a sneaky feeling that i somehow knew her. testing the waters, i soon piped up: feel free to look at it if you like. she was practically giddy: scooped up the book and started investigating its innards. a-ha! i thought (not unlike Sherlock Holmes might), and then asked (not unlike a phd student might): are you a student? (but, at this point, my question was largely rhetorical -- merely a way of sparking conversation with someone i knew i had some kind of affinity with.) sure enough, the truth emerged: not only is she also thesising (at the tail end of a phd in philosophy at syracuse) but she's also studying multiculturalism. something or other about the mingling of afro-carribean cultures (let's be honest: we never fully grasp someone else's research the first -- or tenth -- time we hear it explained). who knew that, on my self-directed writing retreat (deliberately intended to take me away from the office, away from colleagues, away from familiarity), san juan's tourist hub would serve up a new colleague, an academic conversation, and a business card!

and, now, glancing out the window, another surprise: the dog of the (seemingly) homeless man, who sits across from the marriott each day, is wearing fluorescent-pink nailpolish. well...it is and it isn't a surprise, since sometimes the most shocking things can also double as the most familiar: Fashion Pooch, She-Grizzly; tuh-MAY-toh, tuh-MAH-toh.

and now back to translating...