They say that home is where the heart is. If that’s the case, then my heart resides in two places separated by more than 1,600 miles.
Pennsylvania is home for me, and it is the place where I was raised. But I wasn’t born there. I was actually born in Mayaguez, Puerto Rico, on the western end of the Isla del Encanto (Enchantment Island, for those of you who don’t know Spanish).
My mother brought me to Pennsylvania when I was just 1 year old. I didn’t go back to Puerto Rico until I was 15, when I spent three months there visiting my cousin who, ironically, was born and raised in Pennsylvania before moving to the island when he was about 10 or 11.
I technically returned to the island in 2008 on my way to my wedding and honeymoon in St. Lucia, but I hadn’t been back since. Since my three children were born, I had always talked about going back to let them visit the place where Dad came from. A few weeks ago, I made it happen.
We only went for a week, but it was a week I will never forget. The food, the dancing (I’m not great at it), the hospitality. It was all good. And most importantly, I got to spend it with my wife and kids. What a blessing.
I’ll be honest, I have always had a love-hate relationship with myself and my roots. I love the culture of Puerto Rico. My mother raised me in a very Puerto Rican household, speaking Spanish all the time, eating arroz and habichuelas (rice and beans) almost every night, and partaking in wonderful Puerto Rican traditions throughout the year — especially around the holidays.
At the same time, I’ve always felt a little ashamed of my background. I grew up reading newspaper headlines and watching TV news stories of people with Hispanic last names getting arrested for this incident or that.
I felt the racism from people who would judge me just because someone who looks like me or has a similar sounding last name would get in trouble for selling drugs or burglarizing a house.
I had trouble fitting in with my own people. I would always question myself: Do I have the right clothes on? Do I have the right haircut? Do I listen to the right music to be considered a true Puerto Rican?
It sounds silly, but it was all too real for me.
With time and, to be honest, a little maturity, I have come full circle. My recent trip to the island was a chance to go on my own journey of self-discovery. I got to see places I never thought existed and experienced things for the first time.
Let me tell you, pina coladas are the real deal, and they were invented in Puerto Rico. Did you know that the only tropical rainforest in the U.S. Forest Service system is in Puerto Rico? And coquis, tiny frogs that make a very unique “coqui” sound at night, can only be found there.
I can go on and on about what makes this place special and unique.
FRUITS ABOUND: A restaurant worker cuts open a coconut at a restaurant in Old San Juan, Puerto Rico. The tropical island can support many crops, but agriculture is struggling. Between 1998 and 2018, the number of farms declined by more than 58%, and the amount of farmland declined by nearly 44%.
Make no mistake, it’s been a tough few years for the island. There are financial problems, the infrastructure is terrible, people have left in droves, and electric blackouts have become the norm. I experienced a power outage in the middle of my stay that lasted an entire night. Safe to say, I didn’t get much sleep in that heat and humidity.
When I visited in the summer of 1994, I saw farms everywhere. It’s a tropical island, so you would think that anything can grow there, and it does. But it’s tough making it as a farmer. Between 1998 and 2018, according to USDA Ag Census data, the number of farms declined by more than 58%, and the amount of farmland declined by nearly 44%.
It is estimated that Hurricane Maria, which struck in 2017, destroyed 80% of the island’s crop value in hours, wiping out $780 million worth of crops and livestock.
The Ag Census estimates that 54% of farms sell less than $5,000 worth of agricultural products a year. So, if you are farmer, you more than likely have a second job or you are impoverished. I drove through quite a few rural areas and saw widespread poverty. It was sad to see.
But at the same time, the resilience of the people showed time and time again. Most everyone I met was welcoming and genuinely seemed proud of where they came from. I never felt unsafe, and much of the island is just beautiful.
It felt great to find my roots on the Isla del Encanto. I hope the trip planted a seed in my sons’ hearts that will eventually grow into their own journeys of self-discovery.
No matter where life takes you, never forget where you come from. You might be surprised by what you find when you finally come home.
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