Friday, April 27, 2018

Fajardo

 Early in 1984, my church was approached by our Home Mission Board to take some people to Puerto Rico to do Vacation Bible School in three locations on the island.  The places were San Juan, Ponce and Fajardo.  We decided to also take our One Voice singles choir and do a musical in Spanish in a park in San Juan.  As we made our plans, it was also decided to send some guys down there to do construction on a church.
 We chose the musical "Celebrate Life", which was already translated into Spanish.  Many of us, including me, did not know any Spanish, so we took a two-month crash course in the language.  They told us that they still spoke Spanish in the outlying areas of the island, but English was spoken in the tourist areas.  That wasn't entirely true, but we learned some phrases and words that would get us by.  We performed the musical in a Spanish church in Columbia as practice, and it was well-received.  I did a lot of research on Puerto Rico and prepared the choir in some facts before going.  We were to be there from the end of June until just after the 4th of July, so they told us it would be hot and to wear wide-brimmed hats.  They were not kidding.  It was hot.
 We flew down to Puerto Rico.  While over the ocean, the pilot announced that we were in the Bermuda Triangle.  I got kind of scared and was relieved when we got through it without incident.  When we landed in San Juan, it was hot.  We stayed overnight in San Juan before moving out into the countryside.  My assignment was at Fajardo, which was on the eastern side of the island.  Fajardo was a mixture of poor and very rich people.  The poorer people lived near the coast, and the richer ones near the marina.  I did not do puppets at this VBS, because we decided not to after the fiasco of the previous year in Smyrna.  Instead, I helped in games and crafts.  We met at a church, which was at the preacher's house.  The "church" was in his garage.  He backed his car out of the garage, and we put down carpet squares to cover the oil spots on the cement.  There was an altar at the back of the garage.  One day, he was pulling his car back into the garage and broke the altar.  We fixed it for him.  Our games were played in his backyard and in a field nearby.  All of this had to happen before noon, because the heat became unbearable in the afternoons.
 We stayed at a hotel in downtown Fajardo.  It looked like it was out of a Hemingway novel.  A tree grew up in the lobby, and the two-stories of rooms surrounded the tree.  The hotel was across from the post office and near the water.  There was also a chicken slaughter house across from the hotel, and we woke up every morning to the sound of screaming chickens and that smell.  Some would say it was "quaint".  I wouldn't say that.
 Our afternoons were free.  One afternoon, we went to the rain forest.  That was pretty and very cool.  Coming out of the heat into the cool was delightful.  Another afternoon, we went to the beach.  Another cool day.  Still another afternoon, some of us went to Ponce to visit those folks.  It took three hours to drive that distance because of animals in the road mostly, which made for slow going.  One night, we went to the richer part of the area for dinner.  It was quite a culture shock from where we were staying.  We also went to a larger church on Sunday morning.  They didn't have air conditioning, so they opened windows to try and get a breeze going.  It didn't work too well, and I just about passed out.
 One afternoon, I stayed in the hotel room.  I wanted to go to Burger King and order in Spanish.  I practiced all afternoon to order a hamburger, fries and Coke in Spanish.  I got it down and went to BK to give them my order.  When I successfully completed it, the cashier asked me something back in Spanish that I didn't know.  They all laughed and said "Gringo" to me.  I found out later that she asked if I wanted Ketchup with my fries.  I was embarrassed.
 They gave us a van to ride in, while we were there.  As we were coming back from the rain forest, the brakes failed.  Our driver had to crash into a mountainside to slow down.  The other side of the road was a drop off into a valley.  When we got down the hill, the van was dented but we were still alive.
 On July 4th, we were to sing "Celebrate Life" in the San Juan park.  When we got there, we found no one had showed up to hear us.  It turned out that the mission folks in Puerto Rico had failed to advertise our concert, so we sang to a handful of tourists that happened to be in the park.  They didn't speak Spanish, so the concert was rather awkward.
 The Saturday before we left to go home, some of the group wanted to go over to the Virgin Islands to shop.  A girl and me wanted to go into San Juan and experience the casinos.  You were supposed to be a guest at the hotel to use the casino.  I made up a room number, and they let us in.  I first went to the slot machines and won around $400.  I then went to the blackjack table and lost it all.  I started cashing in some traveler's checks for more chips.  I was losing those and realized I needed to quit.  I needed money to get home.
 About a month after we got home, our Fajardo group wanted to get together to share our pictures and to party.  I really wanted to go, but I was working that night at Belk.  I went into my supervisor's office and asked her if she needed me for anything.  She said no, so I clocked out and went to the party.  The next morning, I came into work.  My supervisor came over to me and said, "Don't you ever do that to me again."  I never did.  But, I had a good time at the party.

Monday, April 16, 2018

Jelly Beans

 I was looking for a real job after leaving White Oak.  There was a lot of retail experience in my background, so I succumbed to applying for those kind of positions.  One job I applied for was a customer service post.  I went to the interview in my three-piece suit and found it was a call center, and everyone was wearing jeans and t-shirts.  I was WAY overdressed.
 I did not want to work in another mall.  I really can't say why other than it seemed rather confining.  You worked and ate in the same place.  However, I had to find a job soon, so I went to Columbia Mall.  Since I had worked for Belk a couple of times before, I went into that store with the hopes that they would let me fill out an application and thus fulfill the requirement for getting unemployment funds.  They saw my application, and I was hired to work in the Books and Candy Departments.
 I had a lot of experience with Books, having worked at both Belk and Sanger Harris in the Book Department.  I did not have a lot of experience with Candy, except for eating it.  I expected to spend most of my time in Books, but I found myself most of it in Candy.
 We had a really good Candy Department, selling boxed as well as loose.  We had Brach, Sweet Shop and Godiva, and we also sold nuts.  For the boxed area, it was mostly Russell Stover.  We also sold Jelly Belly jelly beans.  When I was hired it was just before Easter, and folks were buying jelly beans.  We had a machine that would weigh the candy.  All I had to do was to punch in the price per pound and then weigh the candy to the desired ounce or pound.  The bad part about all of this was that I was not trained on my first day about how to use the machine.  A man came in and wanted a pound of jelly beans.  They were $3.99/pound, but I punched in $.39/pound.  He got a whole big bag of jelly beans and was very excited.  After that sale, they showed me how to work the scale.  The next day the same man was back.  He ordered the same amount, and I punched in $3.99/pound.  This time he got a handful of jelly beans rather than a big bag.  He got very angry.  I told him the jelly beans had gone up in price.  He never came back.
 I also had a theory that I had to know what the candy tasted like in order to sell them, at least that was my rationale.  The store didn't want the employees to eat the candy for free, but it made sense to me to be honest with the customers when they asked if it was any good.  I especially like Maple Nut Goodies and Chocolate Covered Peanuts.  Both were by Brach.  I really didn't care much for the more expensive candy, although Godiva Truffles were good.

Wednesday, April 4, 2018

CIA

 As I was looking for steady employment after leaving White Oak, I came upon an ad in the newspaper from the Central Intelligence Agency.  They wanted interested people to come to a local hotel about possible employment.  Having worked for a week with them in Israel in 1973, and with the Dept. of Commerce in 1980, I thought I might have a chance.  It would require moving to the DC area which also enticed me, so I went.
 There was a woman handling the meeting who worked in Human Resources for the CIA.  She did not sugar-coat the work they were offering.  She said that she lived in West Virginia and drove into work in Washington every day.  She said it was important not to live near where you worked for fear that someone might follow you.  She also said that one would need to park far away from the Langley headquarters, and a bus would take you to work.  They were afraid of car bombs.  She was deadly serious.  She also told us that we couldn't tell anyone what we did.  We would have to make up a cover story that was a lie.  No family or friends could know. When asked what I wanted to do with the CIA, I said either analyst or courier.  I felt with my knowledge of several European and Middle East locations, I could easily do either one.  So, she gave me an application to take home and mail back in to them.  She said not to lie about anything on the application, because they would know.
 The application was 30 pages long.  It started at birth and went up to the present time.  They wanted to know who my friends were at my earliest memory; where did I live; friends from school and where they lived; any experience with drugs or alcohol; any political party affiliations; any subversive activities; and much more.  It was quite extensive.  It took me a week to fill out.  Much of it I didn't know, as this was many years before Google, so I couldn't find out where my early friends lived now.  When it got to the part about alcohol and drugs, I had to be honest, and I was.  I also shared my experiences in Israel with the CIA, and my anti-war activities.  
 I sent it back, and I waited.  A few weeks later, I got a letter back from them that said that I was not chosen for a position, because of some past experiences.  I wrote them back to ask them if it was because of the anti-war activities, as I would renounce all of that if it would help.  They wrote me back and thanked me for renouncing that stuff, but they said that the decision was also based on what happened in Israel in 1973.  They felt I could be blackmailed by a foreign power for what I did in the past.  They weren't kidding.  Much like they weren't kidding when they threatened to revoke our passports in Israel and send us home, if we did not comply to what they wanted us to do back then.  I kind of wanted to be a spy, but it was not to be.