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Chronicles of Puerto Rico: Airports and "Baptisms"
By erodriguez in School Daze
June 24, 2009

Airports rank about the same as hospitals on my list of favorite places to be. The pitter-patter of rolling wheels behind passengers and the blaring announcements about bombs and baggage have always put me on edge. Oh and let’s not to forget the beauty of American airport security.

I became a statistic today at the hands of our fool-proof Transportation Security Administration after having a 12-ounce bottle of Victoria Secret body spray trashed in front of my eyes because I forgot to put it in a checked bag. The guy was nice enough, though and after a few mournful faces from my part, let me at least have one last spritz of the stuff. But you know, thank God I left my toxic chemicals at home.

There certain loveliness to airports despite the annoying security measures. A certain loveliness to watching CEO’s, soccer moms and hippies with tie-dyed hair all in an exchange of life. It reminds me of why I love travel so much in the first place.

I found the same thing here in Puerto Rico, like I’ve never really found elsewhere. The people are such an interesting mix of skin colors, cultures and origins fused into one “colony of the United States” as one Latino media studies professor put it.

I had the fortune to arrive on the eve of a great celebration of the city’s patron saint San Juan El Baptista (St. John the Baptist). In celebration of the day Puerto Ricans of all walks of life took to the beaches trailing coolers, stereos and children to “baptize” themselves in the waters of the Caribbean at midnight. The “baptismal” is said to bring good luck for the following year and wash away the evil spirits of last year. The more times you’re dunked – or dunk yourself rather – the better luck you’ll have.

Always one to indulge in local custom, I donned my swimsuit and danced away the stresses of the past year on the private beach of our hotel alongside. At midnight the deejay announced for everyone to make their way to the water, and the shoreline quickly became a frenzy of scantily clad bodies all hoping to better their fortunes in this one act of Puerto Rican tradition. There was a countdown, 10…9…8… and so forth as friends and strangers held hands in anticipation. 3…2…1… About 100 bodies plunged arms out and backwards into the salty waves of the Caribbean.

The sound of skin slapping the water and childish giggles broke the midnight festivities as people plunged not once, not twice, but some as many as ten times to wash away the bad luck from last year and beckon fortune for the days to come.

I only hope seven dunks will bring me enough luck for 2009.