THE Moment.

So, on Friday- we decide to wander into Old San Juan. the doormen at our hotel lets us know that due to "congestion", cabs won't be heading all the way into Old Town and advises us to take the bus! OK! We like buses. We take pictures at the bus stop. We enjoy the design of the seats. We sit. And we sit. And we sit. Until two chicks let us know that due to "the protest", there are no buses. They have sneakers on and will be walking. Umm, OK?! We start walking (as the chicks have said 30 minutes) but jump in a cab who takes us as far as he can due to the

"congestion created by the protest".

Long story short- we ride a bit and then we walk. And we walk. And we walk. We avoid the "protest"- which I was calling a parade as that made it seem more fun. That being said- there were tunes and food and flags and bright shirts so it was kinda fun. Shame about the government cutting 40% of public jobs to privatize and save some dinero but boy, Puerto Ricans are a colorful bunch!

Did I mention the walking? It was hot. We did not have water. We had Elizabeth and she had had enough! So, we popped into a bank (I needed to break some dirty Nannyland hundreds) to bask in the AC. Near the counter where the banking is done, there is a plaque with a poem on it called Let Me Think of Life. I am so moved by it, that I stand dumbstruck for a moment trying to figure out if a teller wrote it for a contest or a real poet wrote it. Turns out, it is a famous poem. I learn this after a terribly concerned employee asks if I need help... not sure why she assumed that what with me being sweaty and red faced and teary eyed. Esta bien, gracias.

And now, I have a new mission for the day... find out who wrote the poem. (Which, in theory, is something that would be delivered to me with a cold Medalla Light) And thankfully, due to my need to go into every cute looking crafty type shop- mission accomplished. Lady Lee Andrews. She is a big deal in the poetry world, apparently, and runs a shop in OSJ called The Poet's Passage for the benefit of local poets and artists. It was in that shop, after rereading and still enjoying the poem that brought me there, that I had THE moment.

I saw another poem and as I read, I felt... everything. That was THE moment. The reason I went. The moment that words heal- that they let you know you can feel without having to solve. I cried. Anne got goosebumps. Elizabeth just needed water, bless her.

I promptly bought the poem and hope you like it, too....

Esta bien, gracias.