WE're home again. It was good to sleep in my own bed and I REALLY missed my precious Monster and the kids. Frankly, if some one could have sent my dog, my bed and my kids to me, I'd have stayed on Puerto Rico for the rest of my life! I felt much more relaxed and much more at home than I have in many, many years. The atmosphere of the whole island (until you get into a car and drive) is life is worth slowing down and enjoying.

Ripe and/or green plantains are in every meal, salsa music is everywhere, at all hours of the day and night. The Coqui frogs sing every evening and especially after a rain shower (which happen frequently in the evening, but are not the total downpours we experience here).

You can't look out of a window anywhere and not see rolling green hills, dotted with homes built right into them. The Royal Poinsiena trees bloom pretty much year round, so do the almond trees, and the tamarind trees hang heavy with friut pods that are used to make everything from paper to deserts.

Piraqua (snowcone) stands dot the street corners of Old San Juan, with it's blue ballast stone brick streets and slate sidewalks, winding up and down the hills onwhich the old city was built. Colorful doorways still line the narrow streets, that only enhances the classic archetecture of the buildings that all share side walls. The Calles' shops are separated into districts where like goods are sold. La Iglesia de San Francisco de Asisi still opens its catacombs to the faithful and visitors alike. My ancestors are entombed in those catacombs. I went to visit them and say a prayer.

The old forts still stand and the Haunted Century Post still attracts visitors from all over. Their connecting walls still stand strong, and their connecting squares and plazas have returned to grass, like they were when Teddy Roosevelt and his Rough Riders stormed the hill.

Most houses do not have central air conditioning, just window units, and those are not run in the evening. Al the homes have big windows that let in plenty of light and fresh air. Most are screened these days because mosquitos thrive on the island. The houses, like the clothing, are all decorated in light colors that help to reflect the light and keep down the heat.

Where children once sold Chicle (chewing gum) on the streets, they now sell Dulces (candy), to make money. The poverty of the lower class is only more wide-reaching because of the economic downturn, especially in a country dependant on the sales of Rum and tourism.

Highways wind up and down, in and out, around, over and under the hills. Their Salidas (exits) sometimes challenging the laws of physics as they slope down and around the hills. Some exits are marked, others simply branch off of the main road. Directions there are not given by street name or exit number, but landmarks that have stood as long as people can remember, or were suddenly vanished by the latest hurricaine. Drivers pace each other at 55 miles an hour, bumper to bumper, yet still manage to merge and change lanes without accident. The streets and highways are the only "break neck" paced area on the whole island. There are very few stoplights, and those that are there are taken more as "sugestions" than rules. Parking is tight on an island that is 35 X 90 miles and people park wherever they can find, sometimes even up onto the sidewalks. Pedestrians are always given the right of way, but fights have broken out over which driver should have been able to go in what order. Suddeen stops to avoid accidents in town are frequent, almost expected, since most of the turns are uncontrolled and several salidas empty into streets barely large enough for 1 lane in either direction.

The El Yunque (rain forest) thrives, with 13 of thr 17 species of Coqui singing from the leaves of tropical plants and flowers of every color of the rainbow. Tourists can still hike to the waterfalls, where locals plunge hands into frigid waters to pull up fresh water Zebra Shrimp, though they are smaller than they used to be, like they have done for generations.

My family, when we are all, or mostly, back on the island, is big, loving and loud. Get-togethers resemble scenes out of popular movies, where food drink flow as freely as love and laughter, childeren run and play in the yards and parents sit under the shade of the varandas, slowly waving fans and telling jokes and stories of the "old days." We cry, laugh and hug.

All of the bad blood that was between my mother and my father's family seems to be gone. My cousins, sister and I care little for whatever the old wounds were and only want to be able to be a part of each other's lives. The little ones know nothing of the strife in their grandparent's past, and freely hug all the members of their family. There is an innocence to childhood, still, on the island that seems to be lacking here, on the mainland.

In spite of, or maybe because, the island has faced conquerors, natural disastors, wars, water and electric outages (that are almost daily), and poverty, there is a sense of ease that permiates everything. Life seems simpler there. Churches are everywhere and a deep faith in God can be felt everywhere.

We attended the christening of my cousin's first child and I was struck by the fact that the crucifix (the island is mostly Catholic) was not teh typical depiction of a suffering, dying Jesus on the cross, but the cross with the risen Christ in front of it. The message of that crucifix being the celebration of the resurection and opening of the way to salvation, instead of the suffering and sacrifice of Jesus.

I already miss my island home and I have sworn that one day I will move back there. I am working to make that happen.