home, sweet, home

I got back to Puerto Rico on Thursday night at 10 p.m. local time, on a flight that was supposed to arrive at 8:30 p.m. Once, around 45 minutes later, I had my bag in hand and got on the shuttle that was going to take me to where I rented my car, I was told that due to the rain, Enterprise (the place I made my reservation at) wasn't able to take credit cards, but they were taking us to National/Alamo so we could rent there and they'd cover the difference... About an hour later, I'm told the difference would be around $200. $200 I'd have to track down the Enterprise people to get... Home, sweet, home.
I finally started out for Fajardo close to midnight and was immediately reminded of just how much of Puerto Rican taxes go towards keeping the roads driveable (about 2 cents I'd guess).
1 a.m. ish I made it to my grandparents who were still up, worried. I passed out about 1:30ish knowing I'd have to go back to the airport the next day to return the car I rented to get me here...
Throughout the next morning, the rooster my cousin bought for cockfighting woke me up at regular intervals. I snoozed my ears, woke up again, snooze, up again, until finally hearing a little boy crying at 11 a.m. I decided no more sleep for me. I left the bedroom, kissed my cousin on the cheek and met her 2 year old, who immediately learned my name. Considering how many adults can't ever pronounce my name, I'm confident Pedrito is a child genius.
The sky was blue, the air was warm, my grandmother had already started on making pastelillos for me (yum!), and I thought, "home, sweet, home!"

Today was much the same. I saw an old friend who I hadn't seen in about 4 years and he was still the same little person inside. But unfortunately much of what he's doing is still exactly the same as he was in late high school and college, things which make the med student in me cringe. But I promised to turn a blind eye and not scold, because I was his friend before knowing how cigarettes make your lungs look and how daily copius alcohol makes your liver feel.

Oh! I'm being called inside for dinner. Pasteles! Not pies for those of you who might google it but something far more delicious.