Without doubt, Old San Juan is my favorite site in PR. I remember traveling from Hatillo and, later, Manati to San Juan by train to my Aunt Santos’ house in Santurce, San Juan’s largest suburb at the time. Santos was my father’s oldest sister and something of the family’s “Grand Dame”. When I went with my mother, she and I would take the bus to travel the extra miles to the old city and visit my aunt Julia, Mom’s older sister. Julia lived at the corner of San Sebastian and San Jose streets. In those days, late 30’s and early 40’s, that corner of old city was rather decrepit, not well kept and many of its inhabitants were seedy characters sitting on the side walk or the nearby “Sirena Bar”, a popular hangout. My aunt always warned me about not straying close to the obviously drunk or “high” individuals. They were all lumped under the classification of “marihuaneros” or “motos” (pot smokers).
Julia’s house was one of the many 19th century buildings in San Sebastian street, dark inside although it had the customary inner courtyard most those houses had. It was divided into several small rooms she rented. She eventually converted the very corner of the building into a bar and a few years later bought the adjacent house on San Sebastian which was a great improvement. This one had 3 doors to the outside and the courtyard was much better illuminated and ventilated. Nowadays most of Old San Juan has been beautifully restored and converted into a magnificent tourist attraction. In fact, San Sebastian street itself has become the site for a carnival-like celebration which began a few years back as a religious celebration in honor of Saint Sebastian, but has turned into a rather pagan celebration.
In contrast, Aunt Santos’ residence was a modern (for the era) two story concrete house with garage and maid’s room over the garage. Inside it was airy and bright and had what to me was a huge bathroom equipped with bath tub, wash basin with vanity, toilet and something I had never seen before, a bidet. I quickly found out that contraption was not to be fooled with. I opened the handle and got a quick squirt in my face. My last experiment with bidets.
Going back to OSJ, some years later, when my family had moved to Santurce, I discovered La Perla (The Pearl). A rather ironic name for the city’s most dilapidated and dangerous poor neighborhood with the most privileged location in town. It extends from the base of the massive walls of Fort San Cristobal which guards the eastern land approach to the inner city to the western esplanade which separates the city from the imposing ramparts of San Felipe del Morro Castle. La Perla is actually the beachfront of OSJ on the north coast facing the Atlantic Ocean. It has two entrances at the extremes, both are narrow, curvy passages which barely admit a car. The one at El Morro entrance has a beautiful antique cemetery where notable citizens are still buried among the “commoners”. This is another of my favorite spots. Once you are inside the gates one of the most impressive tombs is that of famous Hollywood actor Jose Ferrer’s grandfather. It includes life sized statues of a crying angel and three children with garlands looking at the backstop where the grandfather’s name is inscribed. It is indeed a work of art.
I’ve been to La Perla itself a few times. It was part of my job when I was San Juan’s Medical Director for Ambulatory Health Care. I had eight health centers or “dispensaries”, as they were know to the clientele, under my supervision. One of them was La Perla’s. It was located at the extreme eastern end, closest to San Cristobal. The local medical director was my favorite because he kept me from having to visit too often. Driving my car along the only street capable of allowing traffic and up the rampart was not my idea of fun.
To be continued.
Isla De Cabras 