Cats of San Juan

I was walking around the Paseo del Morro, the shoreline walking path around the National Park that contains San Juan’s famous castle, when I stopped to take a photo of one of the resident cats. A man who was carrying a grass trimmer jokingly commented as he walked by, “All they do is lay around like they own the place!” Perhaps they do, I replied.

The cats have long been a fixture in Old San Juan, but last summer the National Park Service announced that the cats would be removed from the park, arguing that it did not meet visitors’ expectations or the purpose of the park. Yet, most people view the cats as part of the landscape and charm of the city. Many residents believe that the cats are being forced out just as locals have been from the old city to make way for wealthy investors from elsewhere. 

This guy was really tired and did not mind me sitting next to him. 

Calle de Hospital

This chicken and cat appeared to walk away as tourists started flooding the square. 

For the most part, the cats interact well with tourists. 

Food at the airport

Waiting for my backpack to be scanned at the San Juan Airport, I took a few furtive glances at an older woman who had been pulled to the side for additional screening. Prior to me walking through the metal detector, the security personnel held those of us waiting for a delay, without explanation. The agents just simply put their hands up and refused to allow any one through in our line until all passengers had cleared the x-ray and metal detectors. Evidently, the delay was cause by this poor woman who had made some food dish that was now being closely inspected by the two screeners. The serious-faced male and female inspectors, with the baby blue rubber gloves, were handling what appeared to be enchiladas, inserting their fingers into each one to make sure nothing was dangerous or malicious in the woman’s recipe. The woman remained stoic and cooperative, but I could not but feel sorry for her. She had worked very hard to make someone at her destination a good meal and it was, at least the aesthetic quality, being ruined.

Wouldn’t it have been nice, rather than ruining this meal, if there was a way in which some of us could have avoided the processed, commercialized food typical at airports to enjoy this woman’s endeavors? I hope that the object of her love, who she doubtlessly worked to please, enjoyed it. But at a time when many people do not enjoy the pleasures of real food, or companionship during a meal, to have the opportunity so that people could enjoy a homecooked meal before hours cramped in airplane would be nice. Of course, we would have to get over our fears of something different, of trying new things, and talking to others. But it would be worth it, I think. 

Impressions of San Juan

Sentry Box at San Christobal, built c.1780

It is difficult to know a city whilst only spending a few short days. Nonetheless, urban walks of exploration, supplemented with deliberate reading and choice museum visits can provide several impressions. San Juan is an interesting mixture of Spanish and American influences, where English-language popular culture masks a history that runs deep.

The Spanish settlement that began in the early 16th-century started a process that led to the great artifices of fortresses and laid out a town that charms visitors today. At the same time, while Spanish cultural survives, the preceding Taino culture is all but gone. The remaining evidence of that indigenous culture is limited to a few place names around the island of Puerto Rico and tantalizing exhibits in museums such as Museo de las Américas.

A Statue of LBJ stares passively at the Capitol of Puerto Rico

The capitol building of Puerto Rico is a beautiful building that resembles several state capitols on the mainland. Like other capitals, the surrounding statues and monuments say a lot about Puerto Rican culture; or, at least what those in power would have you believe is the culture. The walkway of presidents, located across the street from the capitol building, commemorates the nine American presidents who have visited the island during their presidential term. It is apparently a popular tourist stop on guided tours around San Juan. I watched as a group of tourist from the mainland piled out of a mini-bus to inspect and photograph the statues. The visit became a veritable popularity contest among the presidents. Among the visitors, Kennedy was, of course, very popular. A woman sat on the lap of Franklin Roosevelt, who is depicted in his wheelchair, and took a selfie. A middle-aged African-American couple headed straight for Obama to take photographs of each other. I was a bit surprised, as I watched, no one had a selfie with, or even paid attention to, Lyndon Johnson.

A sidewalk mural at Parque Luis Munoz Rivera

Beyond the presidents, no one paid attention to most of the other monuments in the vicinity. For example, the Monument to Teacher highlights the value of education in the culture. The Holocaust Memorial and the Lod Massacre monument recalls the substantial Jewish population on the island. Of course, the number of people who stop and ponder these sites paled in comparison to linger at the Castillo San Christóbal and Castillo San Felipe del Morro. As I walked through the tree-lined Parque Luis Muñoz Rivera, named for a poet, journalist and politician who favored the island’s autonomy, I was reminded that the heroes of Puerto Rican independence and nationalism are not well known by Americans.

During my perambulations I mused about the nature of tourism and tourists in San Juan. While at lunch at the Cuartel de Ballaja, the old military barracks, I watched a man constantly interrupt the wait staff with questions about food, time and safety: “In a hurry.” “Is the fish safe?” (read: I am important). It led me to think that several of my fellow companions at lunch were tourists who could not go with the flow.

The advice I often give to novice travelers is to be respectful and blend in. During my exploration of the city walls I kept coming across a pasty-white young man wearing a Wisconsin baseball cap walking around Old San Juan shirtless. Aside from the beach, I saw no other man in San Juan who decided that going shirtless was appropriate.

A woman sitting outside the Museo de las Américas store asked me if it cost anything to enter the shop. I replied, no. (Of course not, they want you to buy things, I thought). She quickly picked up on my accent, “Are you an American?” and proceeded to ask where I was from.  She, being from San Francisco, replied that she too was an American. I did not have the heart to tell her that virtually everyone around were Americans too. They just happened to speak Spanish.