In search of a Caribbean Christmas

Author: By Randall Peffer, Globe Correspondent

Date: SUNDAY, December 13, 1998

Page: N6

Section: Travel

``It doesn't feel much like Christmas Eve,'' said Noah's girlfriend, Megan.

Coming from a place where the night before Christmas means church, carols, relatives, punch, stockings, and a yule log, we all knew how she felt. Tonight we had just combed the village for a church where we might hear a chorus of ``Silent Night'' . . . and found the parishes vacant and locked. True, Esperanza's homes twinkled with Christmas light shows, but the houses were dark, the restaurants nearly empty. Horses chomped weeds along the main street. The only sounds came from a call-and-response chorus between a field of cattle, goat pens, tree frogs, and a rooster who was way ahead of his game.

Suddenly, a Suzuki Samurai came squealing around the corner, charged down the street toward us, and screeched to a halt. Out jumped Santa. In the space of a breath, he joined us on the seawall, passed out lollipops from his pack, and sped into the night exclaiming, ``Feliz Navidad!''

``Maybe we'll have some kind of Christmas after all,'' said Noah, smiling.

``Something's cooking,'' added my wife, Jackie, as our nostrils caught a hint of pork roasting on an open fire. From somewhere deep in the village came the rhythm of bongos and a calypso sung in Spanish by a multitude. The tune sounded vaguely like ``Oh Come All Ye Faithful.''

Th four of us had come to Esperanza -- which means ``hope'' in Spanish -- in search of tropical Christmas a couple of sidesteps off the beaten path in the Caribbean. A village of about 1,500 souls, Esperanza makes no pretensions of being a luxury resort. Sugar, cattle, and fishing have been the traditional mainstays of life here on the south coast of Vieques, one of Puerto Rico's ``Spanish Virgin Islands.'' In recent years, grass-roots tourism has emerged on Vieques with about 15 guesthouses -- more than half in Esperanza -- offering accommodations for adventurers and escapists.

A few real estate agents rent apartments and homes as well, but unlike neighboring St. Thomas to the east and the Puerto Rico mainland to the west, Vieques remains largely undeveloped with its green peaks and contoured beaches making a silhouette that inspired the nickname ``La Isla Nina'' -- ``Little Girl Island.''

Our search for a Caribbean Christmas had begun when we arrived in Puerto Rico on Dec. 21 and spent the night in Old San Juan looking for the holiday spirit. With nearly 500 years of history and one of the word's greatest collections of Spanish colonial architecture, Old San Juan appeals to walkers. We must have spent 45 minutes just strolling along the Paseo de la Princess at the foot of this town that rises on a knob at the entrance to San Juan Bay. Winking lights across the water and a profusion of tiny white lights in the shade trees turned this harborside walk into a fairyland. Street vendors offered Christmas sweets, and shoppers road-tested displays of maracas to the rhythms of salsa pumping fromcars cruising into town for a holiday-season fiesta.

Eventually, we found our way to a tunnel through the stone ramparts of the fortified enclave and joined young people in halter tops and smart slacks as they swarmed toward the sound of congas, cowbells, and singing at the crest of the hill. Here, in the plaza of San Jose where the statue of Puerto Rico's conqueror Ponce de Leon overlooks the ocean and El Morro fort, a crowd gathered around musicians. To the syncopated ``plenas'' music that derives form Puerto Rico's African descendants, the youths sang words we could only guess at. Maybe these were Christmas songs -- or maybe they weren't -- but we could not find anyone to ask because everyone was busy singing.

Our sense of eavesdropping on someone else's party continued after we had taken the ferry from Fajardo and settled into our rented flat in Esperanza. Acacia Apartments had been a real find. For what we would have paid for two small rooms in a village guesthouse, Acacia gave us a two-bedroom, modern apartment with an expansive second-floor deck. Best of all, we had rights to the rooftop patio in the five-unit building. From this perch on the highest dwelling in the village, we could look down and watch as holiday preparations bloomed in Esperanza.

Every morning we started our day with a jog, and breakfast on the roof. Before heading off for swimming, snorkeling, sailing, or exploring wild beaches and mountain trails, we watched as neighbors pulled their audio speakers out of doors, cranked salsa tunes, strung Christmas lights, and trimmed every plant from cactus to palm tree. Each evening we roused ourselves from siesta to gether on the roof and watch the green flash of sunset on the Caribbean. Then, as starry nights settled over the island, we looked on as Esperanza began to sparkle with Christmas lights.

We listened as our neighbor Maria tended her banana trees by moonshine and sang what sounded like arias from ``La Traviata.'' Every day we saw more and more lights. Each night Maria sang louder . . . and we lingered longer on the roof trying to figure where we fit into this Caribbean Christmas.

Although we had begun to lose track of time, we guessed it must be Christmas Eve one day when the cook at the Dive Inn, a beach shack we frequented for burritos, waited on us in a Santa Claus cap. But even after snorkeling around Isla Real in the harbor where orange, green, yellow, and indigo fish decorated a coral garden like Christmas ornaments, none of us had caught the spirit.

I proposed shopping for some stocking stuffers in Esperanza's shops before siesta, but $50 later we were still sighing.

``I feel like I'm watching this Chrismas on TV,'' said Noah.

Megan's yearnings grew apparent after our siesta when she reported her dream about singing Christmas carols in church. She wondered if she could call home to her family.

Our soggy spirits did not lift until Santa's impromptu appearance before us on the seawall. Now, having seen St. Nick, we felt a sudden urge to climb once more to our rooftop and watch Esperanza sparkle in the combined glow of Christmas lights and a full moon. But as we climbed the outside stairs toward the patio, we met our landlord, Jurgen Meuser, on the top step.

``Merry Christmas!'' he said, and handed Jackie a bottle of champagne. ``This is just a little tradition we have on Dec. 24. Enjoy!''

As we looked around the patio, we saw other couples from the building seated in the deck chairs, popping corks and pouring glasses of bubbly. Then, I saw a smile of insight or inspiration spread from Jackie's eyes to her lips.

``Why don't you all join us for a holiday dinner?!'' she said.

``Yeah,'' encouraged our teenagers.

``I was missing something like that -- the Christmas feast,'' said a visitor from Philadelphia.

``Here, we call it the `Lechon Asado,' '' said Jurgen, who had come from Germany to make Esperanza his adopted home.

``A pork roast,'' I translated. ``Like the barbecue they're having at the Inn on the Blue Horizon.''

``Exactly,'' agreed Jurgen.

We all went. Gathering at a long table on the rim of the gazebo bar at the Inn of the Blue Horizon, a score of us ate ribs and toasted the moon as it rose above the sea like a wafer. Jackie and Megan shimmered in sleeveless summer dresses. Jurgen was funny. So was his friend Manfred . . . and Noah. They were good together. And the entire event was like certain dinners I remember from my childhood. There was much laughter and a feeling of powerful things coming that you could not yet imagine.

On the walk home, we heard a chorus of voices singing to the rhythms of bongos and a guitar ahead in the dark. When we reached the singers, we found a group gathered near the village park. Their music sounded like a mix of the plenas sung in San Juan, Maria's arias, and the calypsos we had heard on Christmas Eve. As we stood and listened, a pair of young girls passed us a sheet of lyrics. Reading along, we translated the words and finally began to grasp the spirit of the music and this Christmas in the Caribbean. The message was welcoming, local, inspiring. The tune had wings. And before we knew it, we were mixing our voices with the crowds', and sang like islanders:

Give me your hand, senor,

To raise to the King of Christmas

Here on Little Girl Island

Before the Park of Esperanza

Before the Park of Hope.

Once on Vieques, you can take a ``publico'' van to your inn for a couple of dollars.

For about $35 a day, you can rent a subcompact car on Vieques from a number of agencies. Try Island Car Rentals (787-741-1666) or Marcos' Car Rentals (787-741-1388).

Acacia Apartments (787-741-1856) are modern, clean, and come with the best decks on the island.

Budget travelers who want a place on the business strip in Esperanza head for Banana (787-741-8700) or the Trade Winds (787-741-8666).

Inn on the Blue Horizon (787-741-3318) is an old sugar plantation.

For house rentals, call Jane Sabin at 787-741-0023.

Snorkeling around Esperanza Pier and Isla Real.

Shopping for crafts/jewelry/island spices/batik fashions in Esperanza.

A meal in a beachfront restaurant in Esperanza.

Tapas at La Pailla (787-741-3300).

A night trip to Bioluminescent Bay (787-741-0720).

Sunset at the Inn of Blue Horizon (787-741-3318).

Mountain biking on the back roads.

The herds of wild horses on the Navy reservations.

Exploring wild red, green, and blue beaches .

Swimming at Sun Bay.