MSI Press Blog

Puerto Rico The first time I got a chance to experience Spanish in its native environment was when my Army reserve unit was sent to Puerto Rico to fill in for a group of soldiers who had been shot in separatist activity (this was the 1980s, and there was some friction there). I was able to use Spanish everywhere I went, and my proficiency shot way up. What had been latent – quite a lot—quickly became active. Most places I went did not expect me to speak English even though Puerto Rico is completely bilingual. My skin tanned up nicely since I was working night shift and spending days in the sun where the dollop of Native American blood in my body took over and protected me from burning. Whenever I went somewhere to eat with my unit, most of the soldiers being white as white can be, the reaction from the wait staff was pretty funny. “What would you like?” they would ask my buddies. “Que quiere?” they would ask me, assuming that I was a Spanish speaker, given my browning-up-nicel...

This excerpt comes from the section of A Believer-in-Waiting's First Encounters with God that talks about God's protection even while being an atheist. Puerto Rico Not only do I feel protected, but also I have no explanation for why I am here today other than having been protected in the past. Whether it is dreamily walking in front of cars—growing up on a Maine farm without much in the way of roads probably contributes to that habit—or being placed in harm’s way due to my occupation, I seem to escape injury regularly.        In 1980, my reserve unit had been called to active duty in Puerto Rico to replace sailors who had been attacked, wounded, and killed on the way home from the night shift at a military post. My unit, considered one of the most ready in the reserves at that time, was activated to fill in the decimated ranks until those wounded returned to duty and those killed replaced. I left my graduate studies and university teaching p...