I feel as if I have fallen in love again, but this time with my mother country! I feel as if I have started a long distant relationship where it begins passionate, remains committed, and yet it’s not enough to just be labeled as in a relationship—I need that physical presence. I cannot remember when there was a time that I did not know that I was Puerto Rico, but I do know that it is not until recently when I realized that everything that has kept me connected and rooted in Puerto Rico is unfortunately succumbing to age and will eventually leave me without a cultural and spiritual connection to where I am from. It is up to me to discover the history, flavor, and spice of Puerto Rico. I cannot help but become emotional when it comes to writing about mi patria. I cannot explain the emotions that well up in my throat like an immovable lifesaver. It’s the fifteen years of summers spent listening to the coqui, waking up to walk across a gravel path to abuelita’s for breakfast, and always having afternoon serenade of dominoes sliding across a tabletop. I could not ask for a better memory of where I am from and how I became who I am today. The simple and culturally rich environment of Puerto Rico has become a very important facet in my life!
Contrary to what my other classmates would believe, the classroom material was also new to me. Up until now, I did not know the political affiliations and intentions on the island, the towns and various knowledge bowl trivial, and the various historical struggles of my people. The most beautiful aspect of Puerto Rico that I experienced on the trip was the humble and beautiful hospitality of my people and how the attitude is connected to the quintessential struggle for cultural identity. The Puerto Ricans have an extensive history of being the conquered and yet they have still remained true to their identity, Boricua’s. During our various lectures on wheels, the class learned of these historical dates and timelines when countries came into Puerto Rico and began their reign of cultural cleansing; however, no matter how many attempts they always failed. The people may be a conquered people, but we will never forget who we are and why we are so.
Mi Patria, es simple, es bella, es el cielo y el mar. Es mi criansa, es mi spiritu, es mi ser y poder. I do not normally write or type in Spanish, but extreme passion and emotion have stirred within me what I can know say is what my intangible is: My mother country, it is simple, beautiful, the sky and the sea. It is my upbringing, my spirit, my being and my strength.
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