Section 3.6-2
Palmes del Mar to Humacao
Friday Morning until Friday Afternoon
(March 22nd, 1991)

After about an hour at the beach we drove the back road into Buena Vista along the
coast and up a steep hill overlooking the ocean.  As we approached the store where
I had tried to borrow the milk crate yesterday I looked to my right over a cyclone
fence over a steep cliff out onto a large expansive valley on the ocean with far away
buildings, lots of green grass and many palm trees.  I had a guess as to what I was
viewing but I asked the guys anyway, "What is that down there?"  They tell me, "That
is Palmas del Mar," and they begin to tell me what Palmas del Mar is.  

I immediately stop them and tell them that I already know all about Palmas del Mar.  
Yet I was quite surprised that Buena Vista was right next door to Palmes del Mar
since I’ve been driving well over 10 miles back into Humacao and then 10 miles back
out to Buena Vista to get between the two places when in fact they are just a few
thousand feet away from each other.  How funny.  We pass the store and arrive at
the intersection of the pay phone.  Luís and his cousin get out of the van and Timás
tells me he needs to tell me something.  He has me drive away from the guys.  We
stop down the street from the pay phone and he says, "I think it would be best for
you to leave.  The people around here are starting to get real suspicious of you.  
They've seen you on the pay phone a lot and they are starting to think that you are
a drug agent with the government.  You may be able to tell that the people around
here are not too great and there are a lot of drugs here.  I'm worried they may try
and do something to harm you."

Not wishing to be stupid I decide to heed his warning and leave.  Wondering how I
was to retrieve my CD player and phone I ask him if he knew the name of the fellow
who had them.  He didn't.  So I told him I'd be back later on today to pick them up.  I
took his name and put it in my organizer and then gave him my name and Marsha's
phone number and name.  I drove back to the intersection and dropped him off and
just shortly after noon I headed out of the town of Buena Vista.

I turned onto the main road back to Humacao and passed yet another pay phone.  
Still needing to call my Aunt Sharon and Frye's Electronics I pulled over and went
back to the phone.  The weather was once again unkind so, not wanting to stand out
in the rain, I pulled the van right up next to the phone so I could reach it while sitting
in the van.

I called my Aunt Sharon and Frye's Electronics.  Unfortunately, the phone was
situated such that my open window faced the west toward the ocean, the direction
from which the storm was coming.  So the winds of the storm managed to blow the
rain in the window and still get me soaking wet.  I got cold quickly since I was only
wearing my shorts and a short sleeved shirt.  So I ended my calls from this phone
and went in search of an indoor phone.

I headed into downtown Humacao and remembered I needed to pick up my
processed film.  I pull up to the store and find they are away on their lunch break and
won't be back until after two o'clock.  So I continued my search for a phone.
I drove toward the freeway and I saw an office type building and for some reason I
decided to stop there to see if I can use one of their phones.  I park in the empty lot
and I walk inside, organizer in hand, prepared to finish my phone calls for the
morning.  

Upon walking inside I see a man sitting behind a closed glass room with a headset
on and a lot of electronic equipment around him.  He's talking into a mouthpiece at
the same time I hear a radio playing in the building and a man is talking on the
radio.  His mouth seems to be moving the same as the man speaking on the radio.  I
then realize I have stopped at a radio broadcasting station.  I guess the big tower out
front should have clued me in.

I stand outside the booth and nobody else is around to help me.  The D.J. hand
signals me to wait for him.  A few minutes later he comes out of the booth and asks if
he can help me.  I explain to him I am trying to place calls to friends in the states, that
I have a calling card so they won’t cost him anything, and that I would like to use one
of his phones here because it is raining outside and all of the pay phones I know of
around here are outside.  He needs to go back into the booth so he asks me to wait.  
A few minutes later he comes back out and tells me he won't be able to let me use
one of his phones.  I plead with him a little more but he says he's sorry, he can't give
me his permission to use the phones.  I thank him anyway and I head on out the
door.  

As I start to enter the van I notice a U.P.S truck pull up behind the building.  I decide
to go around the back to ask him if he knew where I might find an indoor pay phone.  
He knew of none.  So, I follow him into an open garage door of the radio station
where two young men are sitting at some computers.  I begin to talk to them about
computers and I explain to them that I am a software engineer.  They notice my
organizer, which I am still carrying in my hand and they ask, "What's that."  I take it
out and show it to them and all of the functions it has.  They look at it for a while as I
ask them if I can use their phone to call my friends in the states using my calling
card.  They had to check with someone up front who happened to be the D.J. I had
already spoken with.  The answer was still no.  So, rejected once again, I head back
to the van.  

As I walk to the van a car pulls into the lot.  In the car are two Catholic nuns which
was made obvious by the full white nun outfits they are wearing including the winged
head gear.  The nun sitting in the passenger seat gets out of the car just as I am
passing.  














So, I ask her if she could possibly help me.  I explain to her my need for an indoor
phone to call the states and that I had just asked the D.J. to let me use his phone
with my calling card but he refused.  I explain to her that all pay phones I know of
here are outdoors and that the weather did not permit me to use these phones for
the length of time I needed.  So I ask her to please ask the D.J. to allow me to use
one of the radio station phones or to guide me to somewhere that I might be able to
use a phone.

Her reply was "No, no, I can't help you with that."

I thank her, smile, and go on my way back to the van.  I drive away, now deciding to
find the store beside the freeway where just yesterday I had picked up Edward.  I
drive all along the freeway through residential areas feeling that I must be near the
damned store.  But I couldn't find it.  As I was driving along I passed three young
"muchachos" just walking along the street, so I stopped to ask them if they knew
where the store might be.  Unfortunately, they didn't know English well enough to
understand what I wanted.  They knew I was looking for something but they didn't
know quite what.  Being young, excited, and helpful, they jumped into the back seat
of the van and started to help me in my search for the store.  They introduced
themselves as Abeonejo, Josefin, and Husefin.

We drove off with the boys chattering in Spanish amongst themselves.  I drove in the
direction I thought the store might be but all that did was end us up in a cul-de-sac.  
But this particular cul-de-sac was not quite a dead end street however.  Just a
hundred feet across a strip of grass was another cul-de-sac with a street which
headed in the direction I still wished to travel.  So, without any hesitation I drove the
van right up over the curb onto the grass, across the grass, and back down the
other curb into cul-de-sac on the other side.  Once up over the curb, the boy’s
chatter stopped.  I look at them in the reflection of the front  mirror and say, “Don’t
worry, the van won't hurt the grass.”  The guys broke into hysterical laughter and
talked even more back and forth with each other in even more rapid Spanish.  Once
over the curb on the other side they had me stop the van.  Abeonejo told me while
shaking his head and looking for the English, "You shouldn't do that," but smiling
and laughing as he spoke.  

So, I said to him, "I guess I'm pretty tired.  How about if one of you drive the van
instead”.  Abeonejo tells the guys in back what I just said and their laughter started
all over again.  Abeonejo informs me none of them has their license yet.  I tell him
that's O.K. and they all break out into more laughter.   Seems all of the boys
understood “O.K.” Without any more delay, Abeonejo decides he will drive.  I get out
and go to the side door and hop in back.  One of the guys shows me that the middle
airplane like bucket seats fold all the way back.  As I put my seat into the fully
reclined position and lie down to rest, I think to myself, "This sure would have been
nice to know last night when I was sleeping at Palmas del Mar."  Abeonejo drives the
van very off slowly down the street as if he has been driving all of his life.

After several minutes we pass a couple of their friends, one of whom they said knew
English well.  He was quite surprised to find Abeonejo driving a brand new van.  I
explained to him what I was looking for but he didn't know where the store I was
trying to find was or he didn't quite understand my English.  Either way, he didn't aid
us in finding the store.  So the guys decide to bring me to one of their girlfriend's
house.  Abeonejo says, "She knows English real good,” and the other two shake
their heads in agreement.

So as I rested in the back seat I tell them about the José Luís Rodriguez concert I am
going to tonight and I ask them if they want to come along.  I pull out my electronic
organizer to show them where the concert is and to prove to them that I really was
going to see José Luís Rodriguez because there seemed to be a non-belief factor
amongst them.  

The two guys not driving start asking me who I am and where I am from.  I tell them
my name and that I am from San Diego or Seattle but that I'm not really from
anywhere because I'm traveling around the world right now.  They don't quite
understand me but they laugh at the answer I gave anyway.

They then ask me if I'm looking for Palmas del Mar.  I say, "No. No, nope, I'm not
looking for Palmas del Mar.  I don't like Palmas del Mar.  What I’m looking for is a
phone out of the rain.”  They look at me puzzled and laugh.  Apparently the only
reason a white boy American would be around Humacao would be to go to Palmas
del Mar and nothing else.

On the way to their girlfriend's house I lifted my head a couple of times to notice that
every house we passed had wrought iron bars on the doors and windows much like
my hotel did my first night in Humacao.  So I asked them the truly serious question,
"Why does everyone here live in jails?"

Each of them turns and looks at me with a puzzled look like I am crazy and stated,
"Nobody here lives in jails."  I asked the question again and they start into yet
another round of laughter.

We finally arrive at their girlfriend's house and they all pile out of the van and go to
the door to talk with her, all in Spanish of course, while I remain in the van  I can see
she is a very beautiful young girl and appears from her mannerisms to be very
intelligent and thoughtful.  I lay back down continuing to rest comfortably in the
reclined seat in the back of the van as they continue to talk.  After a few minutes
they all approach the van and the girl starts to ask me her questions.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Kory Lewis."

"Where are you from?"

"I'm from Oceanside, California or I'm from Seattle, Washington but really I'm from
nowhere because I'm traveling around the world and I don't really have a home right
now."

"And where are you going?"

"I am trying to find a store nearby here where I met a fellow named Edward.  It's
somewhere near here."

"You're not looking for Palmas del Mar?"

"Nope.  I'm not looking for Palmas del Mar", I say with a scrunch up face.  "I don't like
Palmas del Mar."

Just behind her are the three boys for whom she keeps translating her questions
and my responses.  With each of my responses the boys keep doubling over into
laughter.

Then I ask her, "Why does everybody here live in jails?" to which she coldly answers,
"Nobody here lives in jails."  She asks to look at my electronic organizer and the
guys show her how to look at all of the phone number and names I have in it.  She
looks through it for a while and I ask her and the guys if they are going to go to see
José Luís Rodriguez with me tonight.  The guys look at her and she asks to look at
my red travel book.  She looks at it for a while and then asks me again, "Are you
sure you’re not looking for Palmas del Mar?"  

I tell her, "No, I'm very sure I'm not looking for Palmas del Mar.  I don't like Palmas del
Mar.  I’ve been to Palmas del Mar and I don’t want to go there.”

By now I’ve given up on finding the store.  Instead, I now just want to find Marsha so
we can get ready to head to the concert.  I show her Marsha's name and address in
my red travel book and tell her I wish to find my friend Marsha.  She steps away from
the van and she and the guys talk in Spanish for a bit and then she states, "It's O.K.
for you guys to go to the concert with him.  He's from Mars but it's O.K."  

All of the guys crack up and get back into the van with Abeonejo taking the driver's
seat.  I notice his girlfriend isn't getting in so I ask her if she's going to the concert
with us.  She replies, "I would love to go but I have to work tonight.  You all have a lot
of fun."  So I told them Marsha lived somewhere near the K-Mart and we headed off
to find Marsha's house.

On the way to Marsha's house, I rested but on occasion I raised my head to look out
the window to see where we were.  Each time I lifted my head, I asked the rhetorical
question, "Why does everybody here live in jails.  People were not meant to live in
jails."  The guys just laughed each time I asked this.  While driving up and down
streets looking for Marsha's house I fell into a deep sleep.  When I awoke, I awoke
with such a terrific scream it scared me as well as the three guys who now were
standing outside the side door of the van which they had parked in a residential
neighborhood.

The words that were shouted from the bottom of my lungs immediately upon awaking
were "Satan is dead."

All three boy's terrified eyes were looking at me as I arose from the seat and began
to walk out of the van.  The next word just flowed out as well. "We are now free to
walk into any one of these houses, they won't stop us, they won't care.   Everyone
can take the bars off of their doors and windows and live without fear."

I went to place my arm around one of the boys to go walk into any one of the nearby
houses.  To my surprise he pushed me away calling me "faggot".  I get back into the
van and lay down in the seat and begin to wonder what is wrong, for if Satan truly is
dead I wouldn't have expected that have just happened.

The boys continue to stand outside the van talking to each other as I am weeping
with my eyes closed.  The one who pushed me apologizes and they get back into the
van.  We drive off, giving up on finding Marsha's and head off to the concert.  I fall
fast asleep.

They wake me and they are all three standing outside the van now with two girls
dressed in aprons and hats.  This girl was another one of their girlfriend's.  She too
began to ask me many of the same questions as the previous girlfriend and the guys
laughed each time once again at the answers that she would translate into Spanish
for them.  Josefin is looking through the list of people who typed their names into my
organizer the night before and he comes across one he apparently recognizes.  He
say, "You know José Villa?"  I look at the name and say, "Ya, I met him last night at
the store we were looking for earlier."  His girlfriend translates my answer for him.

All three of the guy burst into laughter again and the girlfriend tells me José Villa is a
well known muscle man and boxer around Humacao.  The boys asks me again if I
really met him.  I tell them once again that I indeed did.  They all three shake their
heads in disbelief that he would ever sign my book or talk with me.

The girl asks me if I am hungry or thirsty.  I say no but she didn't accept my answer.  
She asks me to come into the Taco Maker shop where she works and sit down so
she can continue to talk to me while she works.  I inform her that work didn't matter
anymore and she could stay out here and talk with me as much as she wishes.  Her
boss wouldn't care just as he hadn't cared to this point.  She tells the guys this and
they again crack up laughing.  



















She convinces me to follow her into the taco shop however.  So I walk into the shop
and she brings me a taco and some water.  I ask her if she would be able to go to
the concert with us.  She says that she has to work but she wished she could go see
José Luís Rodriguez because she really, really liked him and his music.

After eating, the three guys and I headed back into the van; Abeonejo took the
drivers seat and I took the back seat.  I laid the seat back down and I fell once again
into a deep sleep as we drove off to the concert in San Juan.

At some point later the time of which I am unaware, I am awakened by the three
boys  who once again are standing outside the van with the side door wide opened.  
So I ask them “What ‘s up.”  

Abeonejo tells me that this is as far as they can go.  He points up the freeway ramp
that we are parked on and says, “The way to San Juan is that way.”
I ask him, "But what about the concert.  Aren't you guys going to the concert with
me?"

Abeonejo responds, "No, we can't go.  We'd like to but we can't."
I look at them sadly and say O.K.  Not wanting to forget my nice helpers I have each
of them sign my red travel book.  They write their names and their phone numbers in
my book.  Abeonejo wrote beneath his entry, "You can call me Beeny."  I hug and
wave them good-bye and take the drivers seat once again.  I enter the freeway and
drive off toward San Juan.
** Sample of nuns in uniform **
** Sample of a Taco Maker shop **
Counter
World Turned Upside Down
Music - Arroz con Habichuelas
by El Gran Combo, I Love Salsa
by N Klabe, Aye Amor Cuando
Hablan las Miradas by
Orquesta Guayacan