I think its natural at the end of the year to reflect upon
the year that has just passed. Of
course for me, a large part of this year’s reflection has included my trip to
Puerto Rico. I realized that I
never really wrote a post to summarize my experience, and I wanted to take some
time doing just that.
My time in Puerto Rico came at a critical juncture in my
life. My full time position at
Notre Dame had just ended, and I was ready to immerse myself in something
completely different from what I was used to. It turned out to be one of the most challenging, but also
most rewarding experiences. I
learned more about myself, my professional interests, and what I value in
life.
Before I arrived in Puerto Rico, I thought maybe I would
want to study landscape dynamics of tropical forests in grad school. I loved hiking into the grid and being
surrounded by trees bigger than I ever imagined. Workdays went faster watching anoles run across twigs and
hummingbirds flit around my head.
And nothing was better than post-lunch power naps, using my backpack as
a pillow. Though I still
didn’t find an academic passion I would want to pursue. However, every trip we made to
the coast, whether it was snorkeling in sea grasses and coral reefs or hiking
through the mangroves, solidified how much of a draw I feel to those
environments. I still have some
soul searching to do before I can nail down the type of graduate program I
want. But spending time in Puerto
Rico definitely helped me narrow down the ecosystems that interest me
most.
For the most part, I kept my blog focused on the exciting
adventures I faced. And living in
Puerto Rico was certainly filled with these. What I didn’t write about were the challenges of station
life. I frequently struggled with
the isolation of living on a mountain and working with conflicting
personalities. Breakfasts
with a dozen people singing and talking early in the morning were absolutely
hell for me. But I found refuge
quietly eating my cereal or yogurt on the porch gazing at my surroundings. I found other spots where I could steal
away for brief periods of time on weekends too, like reading on the roof or
napping in the hammock. Even
running up that steep road, constantly swearing at the hill, I found a
meditative solace that was all my own.
While I truly valued time to myself, I did meet a few people
that made station life more enjoyable as well. We all stayed up way later than was responsible and shared
nerdy websites on a nightly basis.
The highlight of our week was the nights we could download and watch the
latest episodes of The Walking Dead or Archer. And nerdy websites to share were never in short supply. We were a good group and it was nice to
have people to lean on. I know
I’ve made these friends for life.
Of the friends I made at El Verde, one made a particularly
strong impact. For the first time
in a long time, I let myself get close to someone. I mustered up the courage to tell him about my feelings and
was delighted when they were reciprocated. The time we shared at the station was so brief as he moved
on to his next adventures and I was still at continued mine in Puerto Rico. I stumbled through intense emotions that
were both euphoric and heartbreaking.
If I made any mistakes, it may have been my insistence to be transparent
with my feelings to a point where I may have come on too strong. In the end, I’m proud of myself knowing
that I can care so intensely for someone.
Our relationship may have been fleeting, but we went our separate ways
knowing we’ll be close friends.
The hardest part of all was saying goodbye as my closest
friends left the station one by one.
I make stronger friendships with volunteers on the tree team than I did
on the seedling squad. The tree
census ended before the seedling census and week by week, my friends at the
station away. It’s hard having
people cycle in and out of your life for such brief periods of time. Such is the nature of fieldwork. But none of us have settled in life
yet. Who knows when we’ll meet
again. In the mean time, I’m thankful
for facebook, email, and other wonders of technology that keep me connected to
my friends who are half a world away.
By the end of my experience I was ready to come home. There
are so many things I don’t miss about El Verde. I don’t miss living out of a suit case, how weird all of my
stuff always smelled, or having ants crawl all over everything. I gladly walked away from strong
personalities, unproductive morning meetings, and lax work ethics that conflicted
my own. Still there are more
things that I think of fondly. I
miss the swimming holes in the river, the coquis serenading me to sleep, never
getting carded anywhere, and feeling tall compared most Puerto Ricans. In general, I miss station life and our giant shared meals every night. I miss Seth’s stories, Aaron’s
shenanigans, and philosophical rooftop discussions with Sheffin. This list could go on and on, and it
even includes Medalla light.
When my plane took off from San Juan and I watched the
island that I had called home for the last four months grow smaller out the
window, I felt a flood of emotions wash over me. It was like the entire gravity of my experience weighed on
me at once. I had taken a chance
and flew to a place that I had never been to work in a forest of which I had no
knowledge with people I never met.
I got more out of that experience than I ever expected, and I’m so proud
of myself for taking that leap. For all the trial and tribulations, I would do
it all again in a heartbeat. I
know for a fact that it has been a stepping stone for the rest of my career and
even my life.
