Wednesday, December 30, 2009


I wake up and go to yoga. Yes, yoga, because I need to move around after sitting on a plane and doing nothing for hours. My friend Dubz FINALLY makes it to San Juan to help me film. This was after a two hour security check delay, missing his connection in DC, spending the night in DCA, then finally catching a flight to San Juan. So he comes, we kick back with some Medallas (Puerto Rican beer) and run errands. We take the bus to Old San Juan because well, its a good idea to show that area to someone recently arrived, because its amazing. Earlier that day, I talked to Juan and he said we could meet around 6ish to schedule interviews. By 7ish, I hear nothing, so I call him. They are too drunk, he says, to meet. Damn musicians.
So Dubz and I go and sit in a plaza, and I start to have those doubts creeping in. This was a terrible mistake, why do I insist on making things complicated? Who did I think I was by traveling to Puerto Rico and make a movie? Just as I'm about to suggest to resign myself to a night of drinking, a group of musicians with drums walk into a plaza. Not kidding. They were amazing, led a group of people throughout Old San Juan, we exchanged contact info, and I felt like the documentary was finally taking off.

1 comment:

  1. To be fair, we were woken up by Juan at 7:30am this morning to go to a radio station in Cayagas where Viento de Agua was doing a promotional stint. It was up in the beautiful mountains, about 45 minutes outside of San Juan. They played a couple of great improptu songs, both Dubz and I said hello on Puerto Rican radio, and afterwards Juan took us to a food joint in the hills to give us some tipical fare. I ate a pork blood sausage, pig skin, porkchop, and rice with more, yep, pork sausage.
    Salsa fans get ready to be jealous: As we are heading back to San Juan, we ask about record stores and Juan takes us to the Cathedral of Latin Music. Think two stories of the most hard to find relics of salsa on vinyl, along with older forms from Puerto Rico and Cuba, like Bomba, Jibaro, Rumba, and older plena. Not to mention a fair share of old funk and soul, Dubz nearly had a heart attack at an old Gladys Night and the Pips record.(Is it ironic that I'm now in a cybercafe in San Juan listening to Lady Ga-ga singing "I wanna take a ride on your disco-stick?")