Joy
Here's a thank-you story for an early reader of Eight Hurricane Maria Stories from Puerto Rico. This one is for Alma. Her topic, and I suspect her way of life, is JOY In the town of Valladolid, it's not unusual to see people wearing traditional clothes. White suits, white hats, red kerchiefs for the men. White dresses with floral embroidery for the women. Not a fashion statement designed to shove centuries of time-honored traditions down your throat. No hiding behind long-gone ancestors here. The clothes are just plain nice. In the town of Valladolid, time is under no obligation. You can stare up at the double towers of the stone church and let history hang over you, or you can hop on the double-decker party bus that blasts electronica. When you return to the town square, the world may be younger, older, wiser, weirder. Depends on which way you look. In the town of Valladolid, every meal is unreasonably good. Local, Mayan, Italian, hole in the wall, upscale