JetBlue flight 838 from Aguadilla to NYC was scheduled to
depart at 5:02 am on 3/22/2018. I was tracking the latest nor’easter that
dropped up to a foot of snow in NYC.
According to ABC News, 650 flights departing from JFK had been
canceled. I was hoping for an extra day
in Puerto Rico, but the JetBlue app on my iPhone did not indicate any delays or
cancelations.
The seven days I spent in Puerto Rico wasn’t a vacation, it
was a personal fact finding mission to witness the aftermath Hurricane Maria
and to listen to the testimonies of from my relatives in Puerto Rico about the
catastrophic weather event. Six months
after Hurricane Maria, the electricity along Carretera Numero 2 was not
restored from Camuy to Aguadilla. I was
going to drive on a dark deserted highway.
Imagine driving on the FDR Drive or on the Westside Highway during a
blackout, and the only lights you see are from other cars.
I left my uncle’s house at 1:15 am. The drive from Camuy to
Aguadilla was only 45 minutes according to Google Maps. I had to turn in my car rental at 2:30 am and
I wanted to give myself extra time in case I got lost on the way to the car
rental agency.
Before leaving Camuy, I searched through my music library for
appropriate driving music. My first choice was Bruce Springsteen’s iconic album
Born to Run, but the eight songs only last 39 minutes. I wanted to pick an
album that lasted at least 45.
I thought about the darkness that I would be driving through
and choose Pink Floyd’s The Dark Side of the Moon.
Also, I thought the album title was an apt metaphor of
Trump’s response after Hurricane Maria devastated the island. In Trump’s limited understanding of the political
relationship between the United States and Puerto Rico, the island might as
well be located on the dark side of the moon.
The album starts with a beating heart, low at first but
getting louder. I turn up the volume and roll down the window to breath in the
cool night air. I hear the ticking
clock, the creepy voices from the album, “I’ve been mad[1] for f---ing years, absolutely
years probably ages. I’ve always been mad, I know I’ve been mad like most of us
are, you have to explain why you’re mad” the sinister laughter on a loop,
singer Claire Torry’s mournful wails, and finally the song Breathe.
I like to cut loose when there’s no traffic. I have rules when I’m speeding. It has to be an open road with no traffic
ahead of me, and no winding roads.
Earlier in the day I drove from Yauco to Camuy at 80 to 85 mph for about
45 minutes. A couple of times it felt like the car got off the ground.
It was a beautiful cloudless midnight blue night sky. I merged into the dark and deserted carretera
numero 2, step on the gas and hit 60 mph in seconds singing[2] with David Gilmour,
“Breathe, breathe in the air, don’t be afraid to care. Leave but don’t leave me. Look around, choose your own ground. For long you live and high you fly and smiles
you’ll give and tears you’ll cry. And
all you touch and all you’ll see is all your life will ever be.”
The lyrics from Breathe that get to me are, “Run rabbit run,
dig that hole, forget the sun and when at last the work is done, don’t sit
down, it’s time to dig another one.”
They capture the futility of life.
We work throughout our lives without time for leisure and when we
finally have time for leisure, if we’re lucky, our bodies are unable to
withstand the grind of daily activities.
Throughout my stay in Puerto Rico, I kept saying to myself I wish had
more time to enjoy the island.
Although there was no traffic on la numero 2, I felt
uncomfortable driving at high speeds in the dark. The speed limit was 50, but
to me that’s just a suggestion. I kept
my eye on the speedometer. The maximum
speed I pushed the 2017 metallic blue Hyundai was 65 mph.
The last thing I wanted to do, even with the high beams on, was
miss a curve and drive straight into a tree or an electric pole. I’ll never forgot the story of the junior
high school principal and a companion who, late at night, drove straight into
Lake Guajataca because they missed the curvature of the road. As a precaution I drove right on the center
lane using the dotted white line as a guide.
I was forced to reduce my speed a few times. Cars on the
opposite side of the road were also driving with the high beams on temporarily
blinding me. Fortunately a concrete
divider prevented me from driving into the opposite lane. I was told the concrete dividers were added
to prevent drunk drivers from crossing into the other lane.
Listening to the Great Gig in the Sky, I noticed a truck
approaching in the rear view mirror. Had
it been in the daytime, I would have increased my speed to 85 mph until the
truck disappeared in the rear view mirror, but the darkness was disorienting
and the traffic light went from yellow to red.[3] I stopped.
The truck was cutting the distance between us and it did not appear to
be slowing down. I was in the right
lane. In the darkness I couldn’t tell
what lane the truck was in. I held my
breath as the truck got closer hoping the truck wouldn’t pancake the
Hyundai. The truck roared passed me on
the left lane running the red light.
Suddenly I remembered another Puerto Rican driving rule. It’s permissible to drive through a red light
late at night when there’s no traffic in order to prevent a potential
carjackings.
I’m listening to Us and Them (arguably the best song on the
album), but I’m unable to concentrate on the lyrics. For some reason only Google Maps knows, I was
directed to an alternate and unfamiliar path to Aguadilla airport. I felt lost.
There were no road signs, no houses or shuttered businesses, just tall
grass as far as the high beams could see.
I could feel my heart pounding, like the heartbeat in the
introduction to the Dark Side of the Moon.
My anxiety level increased with every passing kilometer. I wondered how much I should trust Google
Maps. I looked at the clock on the
dashboard. It was almost 2:00 am. The
deadline to return the car was 2:30 am.
I thought about making a U turn on the narrow road and
backtracking to la Carretera Numero 2 but I decided to stay on the path chosen
by Google Maps.
Then, “up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light.”[4] It turned out Google Maps directed me to Aguadilla
airport through a secondary road instead of the main road.
But I still had to find the car rental agency, which was a
few blocks away from the airport, without the assistance from Google Maps.
“The lunatic is in my head,” sang Roger Waters. I had to trust my instincts and hoped the
landmarks I remembered when I drove out of the airport were the same landmarks leading
me to the car rental agency.
I got to an intersection, looked to my left and saw a blue
and red van. It belonged to the car
rental agency.
I drove into the lot. I
heard the fading heartbeat and haunting voice at the conclusion of the album
that said, “There is no dark side of the moon really, matter of fact it’s all
dark.”
[2]
I can’t sing, that’s why I’m doing it in a car without an audience.
[3]
The street lamps were not repaired but the traffic lights were working.
[4]
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