Abuelito Juanito always wore guayaberas. Although my maternal grandfather, Juan Rodríguez – abuelito Juanito for us – died when I was quite young, I always remember him wearing his white guayabera, either watering his plants or sitting on his wick and caoba (mahogany) rocking chair telling stories.
The origins of the guayabera are a mystery. Nobody really knows where they come from. Growing up, I thought the guayabera was just the traditional shirt for Puerto Rican men. It was not until my young adulthood that I discovered that Cubans and Dominicans also wore the shirt. Moreover, it wasn’t until I met my husband that I learned that the Yucatán peninsula has a long history of guayaberas and that their designs are extremely intricate and quite different than the ones we wear in the rest of the Spanish Caribbean. In my country, jíbaros – peasants from the mountains of the Island, often living in poverty and often rejected by those in larger cities – wear the guayabera with pride. A jíbaro myself, my mom tells the story that when I was a child, I always wanted to wear my “guayabera amarilla” (yellow guayabera) everywhere I went. I guess I just wanted to look like the regal abuelo Juanito.
Wearing my traditional Puerto Rican guayabera for a headshot. (Photo by Melissa Ponder)
In Puerto Rico, when I was growing up, wearing a guayabera was a sign of your jíbaro identity and often looked down upon. It was also the preferred shirt for those who advocated for independence. However, sometimes those who support the current Commonwealth status also wear it as if to reclaim their Puerto Ricanness considering their confusing political positions. Amazingly, as time goes by, more and more Puerto Rican youth are embracing the guayabera which gives me great joy.
Puerto Rico has two types of guayaberas: informal and formal. Although the designs are similar, the informal guayabera has short sleeves and you can wear it as a day-to-day piece of clothing. The formal guayabera is long-sleeved and used for very formal occasions such as quinceañeros, weddings, funerals, and the like. When my husband and I planned our wedding, we knew that we were going to wear our respective guayaberas. We wanted to give a nod to our cultures and our Latinidad.
The guayaberas in Yucatán also have formal and informal versions. Their formal guayaberas have intricate stitching with beautiful designs. Once my husband introduced me to this type of guayaberas, I was hooked! Their designs are so beautiful and colorful, that wearing one is a statement in itself. Now my closet has a combination of traditional Puerto Rican and Yucatec guayaberas that I wear often.
When I was appointed to the Governor’s cabinet as the inaugural director of the WA State LGBTQ Commission, I made a promise to myself that I was going to be authentically me. I wanted to bring all of who I am as a gay, queer, Latino Washingtonian with deep roots in the Spanish Caribbean. I also wanted to make a statement: wearing traditional clothing is as professional as wearing a suit and tie. I do enjoy wearing a suit and tie, and I have plenty of those too. But I also wanted to make space for other Latin folk who might look up to me to see that you do not have to compromise your Latinidad to appease the Western or Euro-centric expectations of professionalism. Of course, I had no idea if this was going to work or if anyone would notice. But I was firm on my goals.
With Governor Jay Inslee on my last day as part of his cabinet, wearing one of my favorite Yucatec guayaberas.
Sometime after I started my role in the Governor’s cabinet, I had a younger Latino man visiting with me. He was new to his role with a sister agency. He wanted to introduce himself and explore ways in which our respective agencies could collaborate. I was wearing one of my Yucatec guayaberas that day. We chatted for some time and then he was ready to leave. As he was walking out the door, he turned back and said: “I need to tell you something. I am new, and I wasn’t sure what was considered appropriate business attire at the office. But I saw your guayabera and thought, ‘oh, I can wear my guayaberas to work; they are professional.’”
I told him about my goal of wearing a guayabera to work. I told him I wanted to reclaim our Latinidad by sharing part of who we are as Latin Americans, through what we consider formal attire within our respective cultures.
This was one of the most powerful experiences I have had as a Latino leader in state government. I was so proud of having created the space, even in this little corner, for other Latin American folk to feel like they can be themselves in the workspace. I also hope that others who have seen me wearing my guayabera can also feel liberated and free to come to work as themselves; to wear what is considered professional in their own cultures, irrespective of what the Western and Euro-centric fashion expects. Oh, and lest people think I am advocating for gendered clothing let’s make it clear I am not. Clothes have no gender, and I hope that any Latina, Latino, Latinx, Latiné, and Hispanic person who sees me wearing one, thinks of it as an invitation to wear what is comfortable to you according to your taste, not your gender and what our cultures traditionally expect of us based on it.
More recently, I’ve had the unfortunate experience of hearing others call my formal guayabera an “informal shirt” in the workplace. When this happens, I hope it can be a teaching moment. I hope that I can share how this shirt is not an informal piece of clothing, but rather the most formal and professional expression of my culture in the workplace.
My husband and I on our wedding day with our friend, the Rev. Thea Racelis, wearing our respective traditional guayaberas.
I wanted to share this reflection this Hispanic Heritage Month in the hopes that others can also reclaim their cultures in every place where we are. It is already known that Latin American people in the USA are part of every single part of USAmerican life. We are janitors and cleaners, we are teachers and lawyers, we are farmers and business owners, we are medical doctors and administrative staff, and we are everywhere in the workplace and every industry imaginable. It is my hope that we can authentically show up in every single one of these spaces with pride in our cultures and our roots.
I will continue to wear my guayaberas to work and every place. I will continue to honor my abuelito this way. I will also continue to show others the power of simple acts of reclaiming our cultures and our traditions in every space because our cultures and traditions belong to every space we belong to. That’s the power of a guayabera.
As most people are aware, Facebook, that social media behemoth that controls half of the world’s population’s lives, doesn’t have customer support. Their principle is that anything can and will be done by artificial “intelligence”, and that you do not need to interact with a human in order to have the answers to your technology questions. Meta, the parent company of Facebook, Instagram, Threads, and other smaller social media ventures, has several online pages where they expect their customer to self-guide through links that will help them figure out how to solve every technology problem they might be facing with their accounts. I recently was victim of this lack of customer service when my accounts were hacked and as a result, Facebook permanently deleted almost two decades of memories, writings, pictures, and real life connections I have nurtured with people from around the world. Here’s a summary of the story and where I am today in this journey of losing my primary social media account.
I am a GenXer. Born at the very end of the 1970s, raised in the 1980s, and becoming a young adult in the 1990s. This is important because I am from the first generation that witnessed massive technological changes in our lives. I grew up without a telephone at home (I grew up in rural Puerto Rico. There was exactly one phone in my neighborhood, and about three houses with any form of cable TV.) But when I was in high school at a public boarding school in the west of the Island, I got a message at the school asking me to call the number of my parents’ brand new telephone at home. Later, on my second year in college, I got a Nokia, prepaid cellphone that I had to carry in my backpack because it was big and bulky. Of course, this cellphone was the companion to the pager I had already acquired, which we all called “beepers” in our native Spanglish. I point this out because I am from the generation that every survey confirms, it Facebook’s primary user. That is absolutely true.
The first time I heard about Facebook was while in Seminary. Since I attended Seminary outside of Boston, not far from Harvard, Facebook was a novelty we were all familiar with. I attended Seminary exactly at the same time as Mark Zuckerberg was attending Harvard and developing his innovative software. When the platform was first introduced to students outside of Harvard, I used my .edu Seminary email address to open my personal account. As most people from my generation, Facebook became the preferred social media platform to connect with friends, colleagues, and people I started to meet in other countries as I started to travel more often for both pleasure and work. Like most GenXers, Facebook became my way to interact with the world.
As the company continued to change and implementing rules and guidance for users, I tried to keep up, even if I didn’t agree with every single new rule. However, I never had any troubles until their infamous rules regarding names. I do not use my legal name for various reasons. The primary reason being that I was tired of hearing English-speakers butcher my name and not understanding that mine is not a “name” and “middle” name, but rather a composed name, and that I have two, not one, last names. I also started publishing under the name you all know me by now, styled as J. Manny Santiago (the “J” being a nod to my legal name, which was also the name of my maternal grandfather, whose memory I cannot honor as his last name is always stripped by the USAmerican naming customs.) I had to produce several pieces of proof stating that in fact, my name is J. Manny Santiago, even though my birth certificate, my passport, and my driver’s license do not have that name. More recently, I used a common Spanish word that has no derogatory connotation at all in Puerto Rican Spanish, but that I recently learned is used in Mexican Spanish as a derogatory term in some contexts. I was put in “Facebook jail” for using this word in a publication. I challenged the decision, based on the huge diversity that exists within Spanish dialects, and explained why the word had no negative meaning in my dialect, only to be told by Facebook’s AI systems that the software will not change their decision. And with that, I was given more time in Facebook jail. (By the way, other dialects of Spanish use words that are completely and utterly crass and vulgar in Puerto Rican Spanish, but apparently, Facebook has no problem with that.) Until this November, that was the most trouble I had gotten into with this social media tool. However, things changed in unexpected ways.
In early November, I temporarily deactivated my Facebook account. I do this regularly to disconnect a bit from the day-to-day of social media. But I am a regular Facebook user and always come back after some weeks. However, this year that did not happen.
On Thanksgiving Day, I am getting ready to welcome our dinner guests when I receive an email from Facebook that says “Welcome back!” I clicked on it and read that my account had been reactivated and Facebook was just welcoming me back. Of course, this concerned me but I didn’t have the time to get too much into it. Still, I took a little peek and opened the email. When I clicked on the link, Facebook started giving me a message that my account had been permanently disabled. This was odd, of course, but I was certain I could find the solution in the morning.
Lo and behold… the next day, when I went back to the email and the link, my account was still permanently deactivated. I tried everything I could. I searched for answers on Facebook, but since I could not access my account, there wasn’t anything I could do. Meta has a form you can use to submit any requests to reconsider their decision. However — and this is both cruel and a clear failure on Meta’s side — you must be logged into Facebook in order to submit that form. Of course, with no customer support system, it is likely that hundreds of thousands of accounts are being disabled unilaterally by Facebook with no recourse for their consumers.
I kept trying different ways to access my account. On one occasion, I was able to login into Meta and there was my profile picture from Facebook, and a message saying that my Facebook account had been permanently deactivated because an account I did not recognize and which did not follow Meta’s community guidelines was tied to my Instagram account. This at least cleared up what had happened. I looked for that account on Instagram and could not find it. My Instagram account didn’t have any linked accounts either. I assume the hacker account was either quick in disappear after the hacking, or Facebook was lying. Either way, at least I had a little bit of information on what happened to my account. Interestingly, even though it was my Instagram account the one compromised first, this one did not get deactivated.
As I kept trying to find answers and help, I came across information about supposed email accounts you can send information to. I emailed all of these accounts at Meta/Facebook at no avail. Those emails are not functioning emails. I had taken screenshots of the messages from Meta/Facebook, and wrote a short, one page letter explaining what happened.
On Tuesday after Thanksgiving, as I am checking my bank account, I noticed two charges for $250 each from… Facebook! How can this be if Facebook disabled my account? Obviously, the hacker used my stored cards to make purchases or to pay for something. This was another level of hacking I had not experienced before. Facebook is making me pay for the hacking I was a victim of.
Of course, I immediately called my bank and was able to report the fraudulent charges. My back was very helpful in reimbursing me the money and filing fraud reports on both charges. They also worked with Facebook and I was able to receive the reimbursement from them. However, the matter of my account was still pending. Now, the hacking had expanded to fraudulent bank charges and I still had not way of contacting Facebook directly to figure this out.
That was, until I ran into a YouTube video from a business woman in Florida who had a very similar experience. She explained what happened to her, and how her business page was also affected as Facebook requires that you use your personal account to create business accounts. In summary, this woman was able to make a different account — she could not use her previous email or an IP address associated with her personal email, as Meta bans anything that has to do with your old account from ever having access to Facebook again — and was able to reach out through Facebook help page. She also shared how she found out that Facebook has two special help sections, where you can actually connect with individuals, if you are a business or a government agency. Bingo! That was my possible saving grace!
A while ago I created a secondary Facebook account with my state agency’s generic email and my work phone number. Although it’s under my name, it’s actually a generic “personal” account that me and my staff can use in order to administer the agency’s page in case I took a break from Facebook as I usually did. I used this secondary account to login into my agency’s page and through there, I was able to finally reach Facebook help desk. A little bit of sun was already showing! I sent a note with all the print outs of the information I had gathered: the screenshots of the messages I received, the message about an account linked to my Instagram, and evidence of the fraudulent charges. I was cautiously optimistic about a possible resolution. But I also wasn’t holding on my breath because you cannot really trust a business that doesn’t have any type of general customer support.
A few days after I submitted my request, I did receive a note from a person from Facebook. It was a personalized note, acknowledging receipt of my note and the situation. I was excited, but still a bit doubtful that Facebook would do anything. I explained that the email I had used to submit the request was a generic email and that I might not have access if I were to move from my current position. I have tried to be as polite and as patient as possible. Since then, we have communicated a few times, sometimes because they need some information from me, or more recently, to let me know that the process to reinstate a disabled account can take some time.
It’s been over a month now, and things have not moved. Although I have been communicating with the Facebook staff, I have very little hope that my account would be reinstated. This whole process has been stressful, because, as I mentioned, I relied on Facebook to connect with many personal and professional connections from throughout the world. For instance, due to communication restrictions, it is almost impossible for me to connect with my contacts in Cuba outside of Facebook. Their emails are ever changing, and there is no direct phone calls I can make, nor do most of my contacts had any phones to call them to. The same for other connections on countries with limited phone or internet services. I do hope that a “miracle” happens and I get my account back. So far, nothing has happened and I doubt something will happen in the next few months. Perhaps I will get back to Facebook at some point in the far future, when I am able to set up a new account. For the time being, I am just waiting for the staff person I had been in touch with to give me any updates before I lose access to the secondary account.
Hispanic Heritage Month is almost over. From September 15th through October 15th, the USA recognizes the history and contributions of the Latino/a/x community during Hispanic Heritage Month. This year, I wanted to share a bit about each country in Latin América where I had the chance to visit. My primary reason was to highlight those countries that are not as visited, but also to share some other less known places in tourism-high countries. Today, I want to share my experiences visiting Honduras.
Nothing like the bright colors of the mercados of Latin América.
It is possible that what you have heard about Honduras is all related to violence, death, murders, drugs, and the political instability that feeds those social ills. Although it is true that Honduras has had a history of violence related to gangs and drugs, it is also true that the country is a beautiful place beyond the well known tourist destination of Roatán island.
I have been to Honduras twice. Both times I visited the capital, Tegucigalpa. My travels there were related to work: partnering with the United Nations HIV/AIDS Program, which at the time, was led by a good friend who has since passed. Visiting with a friend who lived there made a huge difference in how I experienced Honduras. However, this doesn’t mean that you will not experience a wonderful country if you go alone or as a tourist.
Tegucigalpa, or Teguz, as the locals call it, and Comayaguela, it’s twin city, are filled with surprises. Walking around the old town of Teguz was a great way to understand the people of the country. The streets are filled with stores, food vendors, and my favorite, bookstores! There is a small hotel district on the modern part of the city, where visitors can stay with low or no concerns about violence reaching them. (But always remember that all big cities have violence and crime, this is not exclusive to Latin American big cities.) The district has great cafés and bars which offer great places to meet locals and learn more about their culture. Every morning, I would walk to the little café near my hotel to get some delicious local coffee and just relax by taking in all the beauty of the district, it’s public art, and to watch as people made their ways to work, school, and engaged in their daily routines.
The ever-present contrast of old and new in Latin América.
The second time I was in Honduras, the people were hosting almost daily marches demanding their government to be more transparent and accountable to the people. Of course, I could not just stay by the sides while my siblings were doing the right thing, and I joined the marches and protests for a bit. This is not something I would encourage people to do, of course, as it could be very dangerous. But I was moved to doing it, and I knew I had the privilege of “passing” and not calling to much attention to my participation as a foreigner.
Visiting the mercados, or markets, should be on everyone’s list when traveling to Latin América. We visited a couple of them, and although I cannot remember their names or exact location, I do remember eating some of the best meals there. I was also excited to eat the traditional baleada, a must-have of the Honduran culinary tradition. It was also interesting to see the many fast foods restaurants dedicated solely to baleadas.
One evening, a small group of consisting of my friend, a few of her coworkers, and I took time to enjoy the nightlight. It was great visiting a local establishment with live music and dancing as well as good food. After this, we attended a wonderful concert from Honduran singer-songwriter Guillermo Anderson at the National Theater in Tegucigalpa. Anderson’s music spoke to my soul! He blends some trova with other traditional Latin American music, all with lyrics that speak to the reality of people’s lives, from falling in love to emigrating. I had never heard of Guillermo Anderson before this trip, and now I am obsessed with his music. His song “El encarguito” speaks of the yearning that we all have as we leave our countries and ask whomever can send something to us, to do so. Joining cultural events such as this are important when I travel because it shows me a side of the country which I would not know if I only stayed at hotels with no interaction with the arts scene of the places I visit.
Finally, I would highly recommend a day road trip to Valle de Angeles. This beautiful mountain town is a must-see for any person visiting the area near Tegucigalpa. Valle de Angeles is a quaint, rural town with cafés, craft shops, lowkey bars, and beautiful traditional Honduran architecture. It offers an opportunity to leave the hassle and bustle of the big city to join the quietness of rural life. The road itself is beautiful and a great way to experience a part of the country that very few get to experience. To my surprise, as we
The sprawling city of Tegucigalpa.
were approaching Valle de Angeles, we ran into a Puerto Rican restaurant with very traditional dishes from the Island! A veteran who was at some point stationed in Honduras and married a local woman, decided to stay after service, and they decided to open this restaurant as their way to bringing a piece of home for him, while also generating income during their retirement. Their food was delicious!
Honduras is a beautiful country, with wonderful people and places to visit. It is a shame that people have listened more to the news than to the people of the country. Although I knew I had to take extra precautions while visiting, I also got to experience a country that is thriving with culture, nature, and natural beauty. I can’t wait to visit once more, and I hope you get inspired to visit it too.
I continue sharing some of my experiences traveling throughout Latin América this Hispanic Heritage Month. As always, it’s my hope that these reflections help you contextualize our region and ignite a bit of curiosity to explore beyond the tourist traps of our countries.
The beauty of the Caribbean can be admired from anywhere in Quisqueya.
Today, I share with you all a bit of my experiences traveling to Quisqueya, the eastern half of the island of Española or Hispaniola as it is known in English. You might have heard of this place by its modern name: Dominican Republic or, in Spanish, República Dominicana.
The ties between Puerto Rico and Dominican Republic are strong. Perhaps not as strong as the historical ties between Cuba and Puerto Rico, but in more recent times, PR and DR have shared much history and culture. The Dominican population in Puerto Rico is quite large. In fact, I would venture to guess that no family in Puerto Rico hasn’t had a Dominican person as part of it. (My own family has welcomed two Dominican people into the fold… and as result of one of these marriages, at least two of my cousins are DominiRican.)
A day trip to the mountains offered a great experience eating right by the stream.
The first time I traveled to Quisqueya was from Puerto Rico. The flight is short, and I did what most Boricuas do when they travel to DR: stayed at a resort by the beach.
But, being the person I am, I could not just stay there. I rented a car and went on to explore at least a little bit of Santo Domingo, its capital city, as well as a couple of cities and towns in the vicinity.
Santo Domingo is the oldest Latin American capital. It was the first city established by the colonizers in the Américas, having been founded in the XV century. (The only city established by the Spaniards in the Américas during that century.) The old city is a beautiful place. I have visited Santo Domingo twice, and I find it mostly charming, filled with history, and somewhat magical. Walking through the ruins of the Monastery of Saint Francis (Monasterio de San Francisco) in the old city is stepping into over 500 years of history, colonization, slavery, and independence. As I walked around the city during my first visit, it was important to me to visit the tomb of one of the most prominent figures in Puerto Rican history, politics, ad struggle for decolonization: Don Eugenio María de Hostos. “Nobody is a prophet in their own lands” goes the saying, and that’s exactly what happened to Hostos. I will not go into details about his life here, but he is known for bringing public education to most of Latin América. Although he received some recognition in his native land, it was his adopted country of Quisqueya who offered him eternal rest. When I visited the first time, his body was the National Pantheon, where the heroes of the nation rest. Standing by tomb was my show of gratitude to Hostos, for inheriting so much to us in Boriquén. The Pantheon in itself is an impressive building filled with history, and a place that the visitor should not miss.
San Pedro de Macorís was another town visited during my first time in Quisqueya. As luck would have it, there was a youth baseball game when I visited. Witnessing this was a gift. Baseball is in Dominican’s blood. Being able to witness a bit of this youth tournament was a great way to see the soul of the Dominican people firsthand. I highly recommend catching a baseball game — of any leagues — when you visit.
The Basilica of Our Lady of Altagracia is an emblem of modernity and Dominican culture.
During my second visit, I traveled to Punta Cana, a very well known tourist destination. Again, as I didn’t want to spend all my time at the resort, I rented a car and went exploring. I drove to the city of Higüey, where the Basilica-Cathedral of Our Lady of Altagracia is located. This advocation of the Mary, the Mother of Jesus in the Christian faith, is the patron saint of Dominican Republic. The modernist building is filled with a combination of ancient and modern expressions of the Roman Catholic faith. It really is worth exploring, as it shows a face of the Dominican culture that is often ignored. The Virgin of Altagracia is part of the national identity of many of the Quisqueyanos. As I drove from Punta Cana to Santo Domingo on this second trip, I made the obligatory stop at Los Altos de Chavón. I didn’t find the place particularly interesting, it’s just a replica of a XVI century Mediterranean villa, but the views are beautiful and the restaurant had a pretty good selection of traditional Dominican meals, which was a plus.
Once in Santo Domingo, I noticed how boisterous the city is. We stayed near the Malecón — the boardwalk — and all we heard were honks and car noise. The constant honking, day and night, was a nuisance and something I didn’t particularly wanted to experience while in town. Thus, I would highly recommend finding places to stay that are a bit removed from the city, or at least not on main streets. The other disappointment I experienced was seeing the huge amounts of trash that washes up on the coast by the Malecón. Of course, this is not a Dominican only issue. The whole Caribbean is responsible for throwing our trash to the sea, making it easy to collect on the coast of our countries. I think that my disappointment was a combination of realizing that this was all of our fault as well as noticing how little the Dominican authorities are doing to keep their coast clean.
Los Altos de Chavón offer a beautiful view of the coutryside.
However, in spite of my disappointment in the city, the drive to the mountains was different. We took a day trip to explore nature. The drive was relaxing and the sights were beautiful. Taking in all the nature of the country was needed after a couple of sleepless nights due to the honking and constant noise in the capital. I found a river with an open restaurant where they bring you the food right to the middle of the stream. You can go to one of the tables by the river and enjoy the freshness of the waters while also relaxing and having some snacks and a beverage. It was the best part of the trip, and I highly recommend exploring the countryside when you visit Quisqueya.
República Dominicana is filled with beauty, history, and personality. The historic sites are worth visiting, as Quisqueya was the first colonial settlement in the Américas, and understanding its history provides much context for who we are today — both as people of the Américas and as Latin folk. I highly recommend driving around and exploring the hidden areas of the country: the countryside, the farms, the small towns… Catching a baseball game or joining a dominos game at any of the main plazas in any city or town are things that every visitor should do.
I want to continue sharing with you my experiences of traveling throughout Latin América this Hispanic Heritage Month. The countries I am sharing about are the ones I have visited, even if just once. Each one of them has their own cultures, their own cuisines, their own beauty, their own challenges, and their own histories. I don’t pretend to be an expert on Latin América, much less on the countries I have visited and only experienced a sliver of what they really are. I am not even an expert in my own country! But these are beautiful places I have visited and I wanted to share a bit of each one with you this Hispanic Heritage Month, in the hopes that it inspires you to visit places that you might have never thought of visiting.
Today, I take you to the land of the Quetzal: Guatemala. The Quetzal is a small bird endemic to certain parts of Central América. Unfortunately, the bird is endangered, and their numbers continue to dwindle. They are also very shy, and in all the years I have visited Central América, including the areas where the Quetzal is present, I have never seen one in real life. That does not take away from the reality that Guatemala is beautiful, full of history and wonderful things to experience, from its culture to its delicious cuisine.
My first visit to Guatemala was by car. I was visiting a friend in El Salvador, and we decided to drive to Guatemala for a long weekend. This was the first — and so far, only — time I crossed a land border in Central América. I drove through the southern part of El Salvador, entering Guatemala through the Hachadura entrance, crossing the Río Paz. This is a border entrance mostly used by trailers, and it wasn’t until almost an hour when I realized that I could’ve skipped the line of trailers and enter through a second gate for passenger cars. The process was different than entering and exiting the land border between the USA and México or Canada, both of which I have crossed in the past. Here, I had to leave the car and
The Río Paz border between El Salvador (right) and Guatemala (left.)
present my passport and pay the entry fee inside the customs and immigration building. Once over the other side, a few miles away from the border, we were stopped and our car searched. Again, a different experience. But the border patrol was really nice and, although I had to pay an extra fee — wink, wink — at the border crossing, the border patrol who stopped us didn’t ask for extra payments. They were curious about the binoculars I had and the Swiss knife I was carrying. Thankfully, they didn’t seize them and we went on our way.
It was fun driving through a country for the first time. We passed several small and large villages and towns, taking in all the beauty of the country. At last, very late at night after I got lost, we entered Antigua Guatemala, the most visited tourist city in the country. Antigua is, without a doubt, one of the most beautiful cities I have ever visited. The first time I was here, with my Salvadorean friend, we visited several churches and ruins, taking in all the history of this previous capital of the former Captaincy General of Guatemala from which many of the administrative business of Central América took place during colonial times.
This first time I visited was during low tourism season, which is honestly the best to visit. The city only had a handful of tourists, and pretty everyone was local. We visited a bar in the main square, and got to chat with the other two people at the bar. It turned out to be a couple of friends, one local to Antigua, and her friend from Perú was visiting. With the only bartender being the other person there, we had a pretty cool, international group: two Guatemalan women, a Peruvian man, a Salvadorean man, and myself, a Puerto Rican man. Central América, the Caribbean, and South América coming together to enjoy some delicious Guatemalan rum.
More recently, I went back to Antigua, as my husband and I visited Guatemala for my birthday last September 2022. The city was as charming and as beautiful as always and my husband was also enamored by the city and its charm. The history of this city is worth learning, as well as taking the time to
Proudly displaying the national flag on a passenger bus in Antigua Guatemala.
explore every inch of the place. Of course, the food here is like in no other place! From the local carts selling all sorts of delicious traditional Guatemalan snacks to the international restaurants with five-star chefs from around the world! I can still taste the delicious French dishes I ate here, better than at any French restaurant I have visited in the USA thus far.
When I returned to Guatemala this past year, our first stop was not Antigua, though. As soon as we stepped out of the airport, we rented a car and drove to Santa Catarina Palopó, a tiny village on the eastern side of Lake Atitlán in the center of the country. The lake itself is beautiful, and the small village was the perfect place to relax and disconnect from the hustle and bustle of work. The village also has a coffee museum, which for me, having grown up in a coffee farm, was wonderful to experience. Santa Catarina also has, like most of Guatemala, a strong Maya identity. This was something that both my husband and I enjoyed, as he is of Maya Yucatec descend. Although their dialects differ (and my husband doesn’t speak Yucatec Mayan, just knows a few phrases and words), there are cultural ties that made this place feel like home for him. The huge window in our room also looked right into the lake, with the tall volcanoes on the other side of the lake. Waking up to this beautiful view was extraordinary. From here we also visited the slightly larger and certainly busier town of Panajachel, where you can walk a couple of miles through their open market and buy all sorts of knickknacks and delicious traditional foods. Our visit to Panajachel was met with a torrential rain that lasted for over an hour, and trapped us at a snacks and beer cart on the boardwalk by the side of the lake.
The view of Lake Atitlán from our hotel room in Santa Catalina Polopó.
An unforgettable experience driving to Santa Catarina from Guatemala City happened as we traversed all the roads with huge mountains on one side and cliffs covered in coffee trees on the other. I am very used to driving through roads like this, as it is very similar to where I grew up. Unfortunately for my husband, this is not what he is accustomed to and he was terrified. At some point, we came to a river — or what would be considered a large creek in the USA — and there was a signed telling drivers to be careful, as the bridge had fallen and cars must cross the river. My husband looked at me terrified and ask, “what are we going to do now?” To which I responded: “We drive through the river!” And off we go! Again, this was not the first time I had driven through a river, and it was just a great and unforgettable experience for us both.
On our way back, we took a slightly different road — although we had to cross the river again — in order to visit the archeological ruins of Iximche. As I drove by, we came to an unfinished road with a gate and a tiny space open on the side. The GPS said that was the route, so we were a bit lost and curious on how the heck we were going to get to the ruins through here. We first asked a kid who walked by and he said the keys to the gate was kept at a neighbor’s house and we should walk there to ask them to open for us. Still perplexed on how we were going to continue our journey, we suddenly saw a small passenger bus drive through the small opening on the side of the gate. I wasn’t sure if this was private property, so I didn’t know if we could go through. But we saw a woman carrying some wood and her kids walking towards our side of the gate and asked her about the route to Iximche. She confirmed we were on the right path, and that everyone has to cross through the small opening next to the gate. We did… and about 30 minutes later, we were at the archeological ruins.
I highly recommend visiting places like this archeological site. The place is a beautiful park for everyone. There is a little museum where you can learn about the Maya culture and the history of the place. Besides, this is so out of the tourists’ path, that you will find yourself as the only non Guatemalans there. It was wonderful!
The bounty you can find at the central market in Guatemala City.
From here we went to Antigua and after a few days at the city, we headed to Guatemala City. Guatemala City is, like most Latin American capitals, a city of contrasts. There are the rich suburbs with the people who, belonging to the place, do not feel like they are from there but want to control the lives of those who are. The poor areas where people survive in whichever way they can. The modern areas where poor and rich mingle; some selling stuff and other buying stuff. There is the central market, where you can see the largest carrots ever grown by human — well, at least in my view — and the most beautiful, organic fruits and vegetables you can imagine. You also can also see the beautiful and creative folk art, clothes, and shoes. This was the second time I visited Guatemala City, and can say that I really like this place.
There is one thing about Guatemala for which I highly admire the country and its people. While most of Latin América continues to produce coffee for the international market while falling prey of the Nescafé ruse to strip us from quality coffee and replacing it with the chemical concoctions that are instant coffees, Guatemala has hold on to their real coffee. As one of the staff told me husband when he asked about instant or at least decaf coffee at the hotel in Santa Catarina Polopó: “Here, throughout the country, we only serve quality coffee. You will not find anything of low quality like decaf let along instant coffee anywhere on these lands.” As the proud son of a former coffee farmer, that makes Guatemala one of my favorite places to visit.
As I continue inviting you to explore the places I have visited in our beloved and beautiful Latin America this Hispanic Heritage Month, I want to bring you with me to Panamá.
A view of Panamá City from the isthmus. The contrast of modernization with tradition is everywhere in the city.
It is possible that the only thing you know about Panamá is the canal. The Panamá Canal crosses the country north to south, opening a waterway for large container ships to cross from the Caribbean Sea to the Pacific Ocean. The Panamá Canal is quite significant for various reasons. First, because ships no longer have to do the difficult navigation around the southernmost point in the continent through Tierra del Fuego, to reach the Pacific Ocean from the Atlantic. Second, because it helped in cutting Panamá from Colombia, from which it was a department prior to its independence. Third, because the canal was USA territory until 1999, and thus, is another palpable reminder of the way in which the United States have had an overarching presence in Latin American affairs. Finally, the canal is also the big scar that divides the American continent, physically cutting the north and south parts of the large landmass that is América.
I have only visited Panamá once. My mentor, friend, and second mother, whom I met while she was a professor at the university I attended, lives there. Her ties to Panamá are strong. When she attended the same school she eventually taught at, she met the father of her sons, who was at the time, an international student from Panamá. Her sons were born there, and currently, her surviving son’s children live there. It makes sense for her, already retired, to live near her grandchildren and son.
A while ago, I decided I wanted to visit her. It had been quite some time since the last time I had seen her, and I felt it was right for me to visit as she had already traveled to visit me while I lived in NYC and she was in Pennsylvania. I also wanted to meet her son, as I consider her a second mother and it would’ve been great to meet my quasi-brother. Up until that time, Panamá had been a layover stop on my way to other Latin American countries. In fact, I had never stepped out of the Tocumén International Airport in Panamá City before. Thus, I didn’t have any expectations from the country, other than meeting my mentor and friend.
The Panamá Canal is the link between the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans.
What I discovered was way more than a beautiful Latin American country! I discovered a country with a complex history, wonderful people, delicious cuisine, and an accent that was so close to my own that I always felt at home.
My friend is a lesbian activist, and as such, I had the chance to connect with the LGBTQ community in Panamá and experience the country through their eyes.
The most significant experience I had in the country, was a visit to the Kuna or Guna people. The Guna are one of the surviving indigenous peoples who the colonizers were not able to erase. Like many other indigenous cultures from around the world, the Guna do not have a strictly binary gender system. In the Guna communities there is a third sex, the “Wigudum”, who play an important role in their societies.
When I visited with the Guna, I had the wonderful opportunity to meet some Wigudum people. Some of them were concerned because, although they had been accepted by the majority of their communities, US-backed Evangelical churches were growing in their communities. This meant that US puritanical and hypocritical mores were being spread throughout their communities, including the marginalization and demonization of the Wigudum. Moreover, the hypocritical aspect of the US puritanical moral code was using Wigudum young people as sex objects in private while rejecting their humanity from the pulpit. At the time, I was serving in parish ministry, and although the church I served is a very progressive congregation, I couldn’t get the guilt off of me. Modern, US Evangelical Christianity is annihilating a culture that survived millennia of colonization.
Still, visiting with the Guna was the most beautiful part of my visit to Panamá. They did not perform for me as a tourist. They did not put on a show to entertain me. I didn’t act as if I knew more than them about their country, their culture, or their struggle. I visited with humility and an open mind, hoping the learn from and with them, even if for just a few hours. I highly recommend connecting with indigenous communities, if possible, when visiting any Latin American country in which there are indigenous communities. Visiting with them will offer a better understanding of their culture, their history, their current realities, and the damage that colonization continues to do.
Sharing with Guna people was the highlight of my visit to Panamá.
Of course, I had the chance to visit the Panamá Canal. It is an impressive view. Watching the huge vessels travel through this intricate piece of engineering is really a sight. It is also an interesting experience to visit the canal zone. The canal was transferred back to Panamá as it was always intended, in 1999. Since then, Panamanians have moved to the zone, while some service members from the USA have also stayed. It is an interesting reality worth witnessing.
The final place I would suggest visiting in Panamá — of the places I visited, because I cannot speak for the whole country — is the old town. Contrary to other old towns throughout Latin America, Panamá’s is small and not well maintained. The structures are crumbling, and they reminded me more of Havana than San Juan. The ruins of the old city are also nearby and they are an interesting place to visit to learn more about Panamá’s development. I am not sure about the rest of the country, but Panamá City is a sprawling experiment on US capitalist development. Huge skyscrapers are being built everyday. Hundreds of housing units unreachable for locals are being sold to international investors with no intentions to help the people of the country. However, since infrastructure is still lacking, water barely reaches the units beyond the third floor, and power outages are very common.
Visiting Panamá was a great experience for me. It showed me both sides of Latin America: the side still connected to our ancestors, cultures, and traditions, and the side that is the unsuspected victim of globalization and US imperialism. As a Puerto Rican, it was a great way to know that my people, my Island, are not alone in suffering the impact of invasive US imperialist policies. As the late Panamanian poet Dimas Lidio Pitty once wrote:
A view of my little settlement of Castañer, where I grew up, in the mountains where the municipalities of Lares (my birth town), Adjuntas (my hometown), Yauco, and Maricao meet.
I continue my journey of sharing with you all during this Hispanic Heritage Month a little bit about each Latin American country I have visited. Today, I want to invite you to come to my own home-country: Puerto Rico!
I was hoping to publish this yesterday, September 23rd, but unfortunately, as the saying goes: life happened. September 23rd is significant for many Puerto Ricans because it is the anniversary of the Lares Revolt, or as we know it, El Grito de Lares. You can read more about this event through the link embedded in the prior sentence, but here’s a short explanation.
In 1868, a group of people from Puerto Rico and Cuba were ready to raise in armed revolution against the Spanish Empire. There were coordinated efforts to overthrow the Spaniard government in both colonies, at around the same time. Unfortunately, the Spaniard government heard about the plans and things had to change. In Puerto Rico, the revolutionaries decided to go ahead with the revolt ahead of the original planned date. On September 23rd, a group from Lares, a town in the mountains of the Island, marched from the hacienda of Manuel Rojas and his family to the center of town. They proclaimed the Republic of Puerto Rico from the balcony of the Roman Catholic Church in the main plaza, and installed a temporary government. As they moved through the mountains to take on other towns and cities, the rebellion was squashed by the armed Spaniard forces, bringing to an end the dreams of a free country. Just a few years later, in 1898, when the Island was just admitted to the Kingdom of Spain as an official province, with representation in the Spanish Courts (Congress), the United States invaded and made Puerto Rico, first, a military colony, and later, an unincorporated territory. Or, in simple English: Puerto Rico is a colony of the United States.
Of course, I have my own opinions about the political realities of the Island. However, this post is about our culture, our island, and the wonderful places you can explore when you visit. If you want my opinions on the political realities, you can find some here on this blog or just by reading some of my posts elsewhere such as my social media channels.
A mural honoring our African ancestors in an ancient building in Old San Juan.
With all that out of the way, here is my beautiful Puerto Rico! Almost everyone who visits the Island stays only in San Juan, the capital city. Although the city has some beautiful, important, and historical places to visit, staying only there is a huge mistake travelers make. It is especially sad when travelers only stay in the Condado area, where most hotels and tourist traps are. If you only visit Condado and Old San Juan, you might as well just stay in Miami Beach, Cancún or any of the other clones of soulless blocks of concrete make for USAmericans’ entertainment. If you want to keep reading, you will know where to experience the real Puerto Rico.
I was born in the municipality of Lares, as a matter of fact. And so was famous singer-songwriter José Feliciano of “Feliz Navidad” fame. But that’s as much as we share with each other. However, the town of Lares itself is worth visiting. Not only because it’ll give you a clear idea of how is life in the mountains, but also because of the wonderful things you can find here. Right next to the plaza there is a famous ice-cream shop where you can have some of the most famous Puerto Rican delicacies in ice-cream form. Arroz con gandules (rice with pigeon peas), coquito (a coconut based drink), rum, garlic, salted codfish, and a bunch of other familiar and unfamiliar flavors are just some of the ice-creams you can try at Heladería Lares. On the way to the town of San Sebastián from Lares, you can also see the beautiful flora of the Island, and even dip into one of the many great waterfalls on the side of the road.
I personally do not enjoy much of the eastern part of the Island. However, there is plenty to visit there. El Yunque is a rainforest that our Taíno ancestors venerated as it is the place where Yucahú, the Supreme Being, resides. El Yunque is also the natural barrier the Island has to stop the constant hurricanes that every year threaten the country. The islands of Vieques and Culebra can also be reached from the eastern side of the country. Although I am not of a beach person, I have enjoyed visiting both islands for different reasons. If the beach is your thing, Playa Flamingos in Culebra has constantly being rated as one of the top beaches in the world. A short small plane ride will take you from the mainland to either one of the Islands, as the ferries that carry passengers and cars are often out of service.
On the mainland, the town of Loíza can show you our deep connection with Mother Africa. Loíza is a town full of culture, rhythm, music, dancing, and delicious foods from our African ancestors. It is quite common to see tambores (drums) being brought out of any house, and immediately a party will start. Everyone will gather around the drums and listen carefully as they communicate with the Orishas who accompanied our ancestors from Mother Africa to the Caribbean. Bomba and plena, two of our African-inspired dances can be experienced here more often than in other parts of the Island. The area of Piñones, just west of Loíza, is a couple of miles of coastline covered with kiosks and food trucks where you can try all sorts of delicious small bites from our culinary traditions.
The Three Kings Hill, entrance to the Pork Highway in the town of Cayey.
On the way south through the town of Cayey, you can find what some have called the “Pork Highway.” This stretch of mountain roads is filled with roasted pork eateries. The Puerto Rican diet is based mostly on pork, and roasted pork — lechón asado — is king here. At the bottom of the road, you can find The Hill of the Three Kings, a monumental sculpture to the Wise Men — or Three Kings — from the Christian tradition, who are said to have visited the infant Jesus at his home to bring presents of gold, myrrh, and incense. Christmas is long in Puerto Rico, starting with the USAmerican holiday of Thanksgiving (the fourth Thursday of November) and running through eight days after the Feast of Epiphany on January 6th. The celebration of the Three Kings — Reyes Magos — is the biggest Christmas party in the Island. A visit during this time of the year is highly encouraged.
I was born and raised in the mountains, so this areas is very close to my heart. I already mentioned Lares, but there are so many other wonderful places to visit around the central mountains range. My hometown of Adjuntas has much to offer. Visitors can see the wonderful work of community initiatives such as Casa Pueblo, a world leader in advancing solar power for underserved communities. The organization also has other initiatives as a coffee farm, organic coffee production, a butterfly farm, and El Bosque del Pueblo, a forest that was reclaimed from the nation’s government and private hands who wanted to mine precious minerals at the expense of the rivers and creeks that run through the area. Moreover, my hometown has lakes, creeks, and rivers you can explore, and the second highest peak in the mountains, Cerro Guilarte, where you can spend a day of hiking. The municipal government also hosts a weekly folk art market at the main plaza (full disclosure, my sister is a town councilmember), and you can find the best bakery goods at a bakery on one side of the plaza while the best pizza in town on the other side. OK, I know I have spent a lot of time here, but I know and love my town, so I had to give it a bit more shout outs!
There are other wonderful places to visit throughout the mountains. Aibonito has the Festival of Flowers. For those who are religious, Maricao has a shrine to the Virgin Mary that is very well known. Las Marías hosts the annual Festival of the Sweet Orange. Jayuya has the highest point in the mountain range, Cerro Punta, the Museum of the Cemí showing indigenous artifacts, and you can hike down to a river with a pretty well preserved collection of indigenous petroglyphs carved into a big boulder known as Piedra Escrita (Written Boulder.)
La Cruceta del Vigía, Ponce, from which you can see the whole city and some of the islands off the southern coast of the country.
In the south, the city of Ponce offers from much to visitors. The area of Serrallés Castle has the aforementioned “castle” — in reality, a huge mansion for the Serrallés family, who were early rum producers –, a Japanese Garden, and the Cruceta del Vigía, a lookout where you can catch a pretty impressive sight of the whole area all the way to some of the islands off the southern coast. The main plaza is also worth visiting. You can shop around the downtown area for folk art as well as for guayaberas, our traditional male shirts. The historic Fire Station is a jewel in the middle of the city. The Roman Catholic Cathedral of Our Lady of Guadalupe displays an ancient icon of this advocation of the Virgin Mary that comes from the town of Guadalupe in Murcia, Spain, from which the Mexican advocation takes its name and likeness. (Yes, the Virgin of Guadalupe comes from Spain. The story of the Mexican apparition is much later, and the advocation comes because the bishop who heard San Juan Diego first, saw in the image a Virgin that reminded him of his hometown.) The Museum of Art of Ponce is another jewel in the south, with the largest collection of art in all of the Caribbean. Still in the southern part, you can visit the beaches in Guánica, while also walking along the boardwalk right on the bay where the USA soldiers invaded the island. In Lajas you can visit, stay, and certainly eat, at La Parguera, a great beach neighborhood with a long history of fishing and community development. It is here also where you can witness the wonders of nature in their bioluminescent waters. If you are lucky enough to be there in a new moon night, you can take a boat to the area where these microorganisms make the dark waters look bright blue with their light.
The lighthouse, cliffs, and beach in Cabo Rojo.
The western part has the town of San Germán, which is deemed the “Mother of Towns”, as it was from here that most of the south, central, and western towns and cities were established. There you can also walk through ancient stone roads, and look at colonial architecture still used today. The Porta Coeli, an important museum of religious art, is located here, as well as the oldest private, religious university in the Island, the Inter American University, which is affiliated with the Presbyterian Church, USA. Cabo Rojo is another beach town. As I said, I am not big on beaches, but Cabo Rojo has the only beach I actually like: Playa Sucia or La Playuela. To get there, you will drive through the salinas, a natural pool of salt water where salt is harvested, and which sometimes looks pink because of the microorganisms that overgrow here during certain times of the year. The cliffs by the old lighthouse are worth visiting, but with plenty of caution as many people have dater nature here, which is never a good idea. Mayagüez is the largest town in the western part. I had the chance to live here while in boarding school in high school, and college. The second largest campus of the University of Puerto Rico is here. The center of the town offers lost of entertainments yearlong, but Christmas is probably the best time of the year to visit Mayagüez. There are always parties on the main plaza, and lots of bars and restaurants offering live music — usually with local artists who might be students at the local UPR campus –, theater productions you can catch at the majestic Yagüez Theater. Rincón, a beach town next to Mayagüez, attracts amateur and professional surfers from throughout the world. The town just recently remodeled the park around the lighthouse, and you can come here to spend a relaxing time, dance to the live music, and catch a sight of the whales that come to this area every year.
The National Monument to El Jíbaro. The jíbaro refers to people from the mountains, usually laborers, who toil the land, work hard, value cooperation and community, and keep a humble semblance. Many urbanites rejected the jíbaro, and some still look down at us. I am proud to come from this culture and these people, and forever will be proud to be a jíbaro myself.
As you drive north, the cities and towns of Aguadilla, Isabela, and Quebradillas offer pristine beaches and a relaxing atmosphere. In Quebradillas you can also find the ruins of the old train that crisscrossed the Island. In the area of Guajataca, the old tunnel offers a pretty cool experience of stepping into history as you walk through it.
These are just some of my favorite places to visit in my Island! Of course, I had to leave so much more, which is equally beautiful. There are haciendas, and parks, and caves, and mountains to hike, and foods to try, and festivals to attend. As you can read, if your visit to the Island only consisted on staying in San Juan, you missed 99% of what makes Puerto Rico, the Enchanted Island of the Caribbean.
Today I continue my Hispanic Heritage Month project of sharing some highlights of the Latin American countries I have visited, by sharing about one of my favorite countries: Cuba.
Puerto Rican poet and revolutionary patriot, Lola Rodríguez de Tió, once wrote a poem which has the following lines:
Cuba y Puerto Rico son | Cuba and Puerto Rico are de un pájaro las dos alas, | of the same bird, it’s two wings reciben flores o balas | they get flowers or bullets sobre el mismo corazón… | over the same heart…
Rodríguez de Tió captured this way the closeness between the histories of her — and my — native Puerto Rico, and our beloved sibling, Cuba. Indeed, the history of the two islands is closely related. Perhaps this is one of the reasons why I always felt attracted by Cuba. Since I was a kid, I wanted to visit our sister island. I had the first chance to visit as part of a religious delegation to work with local churches. Since then, I have visited Cuba a few times in different capacities. Always learning more, and always exploring more places. Havana, Matanzas, Santa Clara, Holguín, Bayamo, and Santiago de Cuba, are some of the most recognized places I have visited in Cuba. I have also been to small towns and communities that are not as recognized, and visited places that are either off limit to tourists or that are not as well known outside of local circles.
Once I finally visited Cuba I understood how close my country and Cuba really are. The people, the food, the colonial architecture, the popular sayings… there is so much in common! No wonder Cubans have been migrating to Puerto Rico for centuries, even before the Revolution. Moreover, the accent of eastern Cuba is quite similar to the mountain accent of Puerto Rico — which is my natural accent.
I have loved every inch of Cuba that I have visited. But continuing with the goal of sharing just a few highlights of my favorite places, I will focus on the places I have enjoyed visiting the most.
Havana is a place that every Latin person should visit at least once in their lifetimes. The city is filled with the resiliency of the people who live in this beautiful island. Walking through the streets of this Caribbean metropolis is stepping into a piece of history of our beloved Latin America. Each building is the still life of a time that is no more. As the rest of the continent moved forward after 1960, Havana stayed there,
frozen in time. The structures, like the people, have witnessed all types of change with bravado and resiliency. Some buildings, like some people, have given in to neglect. The old cars carry the dreams and hopes of a community that desperately claims for some respite. Everyone has someone to blame: the Revolution, the system, the murderous USA blockade, etc. The truths is, as always, more complexed than what we want it to be. This is also reflected in life in Cuba. All these feelings can only be understood if you really listened to the people… both what they tell you publicly, and what they imply subtly through their words. Havana is the place where you will feel this the most.
Walking along the Malecón, you will experience the reality of Cubans. People pacing back and forth. Some looking for their friends. Others just wanting to escape for a few hours from their homes, work, or any other responsibilities by enjoying the sound of the waves and the music coming from all around. Others walk around hoping to fall madly in love with the person who will finally offer them the ticket to liberty. While others, just walk around hoping for a client with whom they can escape their reality if only for a few hours, while also making a buck to bring food back to their families. Havana is a city of raw emotions and complexity.
Santa Clara is the city with which I really fell in love. This city is filled with art, and music, and innovation. Wherever you turn, there is another new experience to have. The pace of the city is slower, calmer, more reflective than in the big city of Havana. It was in Santa Clara where I first experience the inventiveness of the Cuban people. It was here where I fell in love with the art of a local artist who is now famous and lifting Cuba’s artistic heritage up around the world. Santa Clara is one of my happy places, and I can’t wait to visit again.
Matanzas is the city that reconnected me to my Yoruba ancestors. It was the place where I came face to face with the Orishas, who called me back home to their protection. Matanzas was also the place where I learned of the potential that Cuban theologians have to really transform the face of Christianity should the blockade wasn’t there. Their voices are clear, filled with wisdom rooted in their realities, and centered in love, affirmation, and empowerment. Perhaps I wouldn’t have left the church had I studied with these theologians instead of where I went. It was also in Matanzas where I felt for the first time the “summer love” feelings so ubiquitous of teen romance movies. Matanzas keeps one of my most beautiful memories of deep connections with one of the most fascinating human beings I have ever met and whom I will always love.
Finally, Santiago de Cuba is a place that will always be in my heart. Not only does the city and I share a name, but there is much more we share. The eastern provinces have a similar accent to the Puerto Rican accent. It is here where I can visit any place and be welcomed as one of their own. In Santiago, I am just the other wing of that same bird. In Santiago, I am no longer just Puerto Rican, I am Cuban too. It is from Santiago de Cuba where the Bacardí family hailed. They moved to Puerto Rico where they finally established their rum business. Funnily, I have been three times to Santiago and have yet to visit the Museum Bacardí. Each time I visit, the museum is closed for one reason or another. An inconvenience for me. The reality of a tired system for them. Santiago has the fortresses that remind me of home. It is the place where I can eat like a local, in local establishments not for tourists, pay with Cuban pesos instead of the currency for foreigners, the place where I can visit any museum without even having the show a national identity card because they take for granted that I belong there. If there was a city I can call my second hometown, it would be Santiago de Cuba.
There are, of course, many other beautiful places to visit in Cuba. Throughout my years traveling there and nurturing friendships in the island, I have visited the beach town of Guardalavaca, the Bellamar Caves, the Martin Luther King Jr Center, and so many other wonderful, hidden gems. Cuba really is the Pearl of the Caribbean.
I want to continue taking you on a journey with me throughout my beautiful Latin America. Of course, I can only share the experiences of the places I have traveled, which is what I am doing with this series of publications. Today, I want to take you on a journey to the second Latin American country I visited: Venezuela.
I visited Venezuela for the first time in 1997, right after my trip to Nicaragua. In fact, my little group — three young women and I, all from the same religious group from college — flew from Nicaragua, through Panamá, to Venezuela. There we met with a larger group from the same religious organization from college. However, while we were in Nicaragua, there were general strikes in the country. The public transportation sector had joined the students in strike as prices were going to be raised in the public universities in the country. This meant that the ferries from Ometepe to the mainland were suspended.
Moreover, during this time, there was also an earthquake in Venezuela that devastated parts of the country. This was our first trip to Venezuela and we had no idea where the earthquake happened and whether it was close to where we were supposed to stay.
Thankfully, we were able to clear everything up and were able to travel to Venezuela after all. This was the first of many trips I took to Venezuela. I have visited before, during, and after the Chávez presidency. I have seen the country transform in many ways. Here, I will not take share about those transformations, as I believe this is a delicate topic that should never be entered into without first engaging the brilliant minds of Venezuelans who support, oppose, and are ambivalent about the political reality of their country. I would do a disservice to my Venezuelan siblings by focusing on my political opinions instead of highlighting the beauty of their motherland.
Stairs enveloped in mist as you continue the journey up once you get to the top of Cerro Avila in Caracas.
The first time I visited Venezuela, I stayed in the home of the local pastor whose church we were working with. His house was on a very scary cliff, in the town of El Junquito. He was a dentist, and made good money through his job. His service to the local church in an impoverished neighborhood of Caracas was part-time. He used his skills as a dentist to provide free service to the community too, and the church had a dental clinic for the people in the community.
El Junquito wasn’t particularly interesting to me. But Caracas was! The city is a huge sprawl in a valley and extends to the foot of the mountains around it. As you come up from the Maiquetía Airport, you can see the haphazardly built structures covering miles and miles of mountain slopes. At night, the lights look beautiful. During the day, it looks impressive and dangerous. In the neighborhood where we were working, the passages and narrow paths crisscrossing the slopes from house to house, some built one on top of another, were a maze we did not dare to walk through. This in itself was a beautiful sight. It was beautiful because you could feel how much the community cared for each other, as they helped each other navigate this network of paths that were so confusing that outsiders were warned not to venture in. The Caracas that I experienced that first time, and the second, and third time I visited, was a city of drastic contrasts. It was a city filled with cars, motorcycles, public buses, and a pretty impressive urban metro system. It was a cosmopolitan city filled with culture and arts. It was a city filled with the delicious aromas of national and international cuisines.
A view of Caracas from Cerro Avila.
Caracas is my favorite place in Venezuela. Contrary to many Latin American cities, Caracas doesn’t have a very defined and preserved “old town.” You walked through history and modernity all the same time. As you step out of the old Roman Catholic Cathedral in the center of the city, there are modern buildings and shopping malls all over the perimeter. This contrast was new to me, and I enjoyed it very much.
In Caracas is also where you can find Cerro Avila. The impressive mountain on the side of the city is reachable through a cable car. The first few times I rode this cable car, I had no worries. However, the last time I visited Caracas, I guess my age showed, as I was scared to death to go up! I positioned myself in the center of the car and curled up in the fetal position until we reached the top of the mountain to the amusement of my sister and my friend who were serving as our tour guide. But once on the top, you get to see the city through the fog.
Another place that is magical in Venezuela is Colonia Tovar in the state of Aragua. I have visited this place a couple of times. This town up in the mountains is the result of German immigrants arriving in Venezuela over a hundred years ago. The climate on the mountain was reminiscent of the climate in their home towns. They produce some of the sweetest and biggest strawberries I have ever had! It is worth visiting the colony and enjoying a day or two trying all of their traditional German dishes and strawberry creations.
Valencia and Maracaibo are the other two places I have spent time in. Although I didn’t get to explore much in Valencia, it was a family visit and we got to enjoy some good time with my aunt and her husband’s extended family who lives there. Having some street food late at night was probably one of the greatest experiences in Valencia. Maracaibo, on the other hand, was also a magical place. Every morning, I would wake up early and walk to the nearby bakery to buy freshly baked bread for the group with which I was. The team there made a delicious strawberry jam (I get to see the thread here!) Eating that freshly baked bread was heaven!
The views of the houses on the cliffs as you drive up from the Maiquetía airport to Caracas.
Venezuela has my heart because of many other, more personal experiences I had while traveling and shortly living there in my youth. Although it’s been a few years since my last visit, I do hope to return someday. I want to continue eating the delicious street foods, especially, the arepas reina pepiada (my favorite), and their empanadas — there’s a story about empanadas and a visit to Simón Bolívar’s hacienda from which I will spare you this time. Venezuela is a beautiful country, with wonderful people, and way to much to discover in just a few days over a decade of visiting it. I know in my heart that I will visit more places and get to see the Salto del Angel with my own eyes someday. Until then, I live with the wonderful memories of many, many months spent exploring the streets of Caracas, and the memory of the wonderful smell of freshly baked bread in Maracaibo.
I’ve had the chance to travel throughout many countries in Latin America. As we continue celebrating Hispanic Heritage Month, I want to share a couple of my favorite spots in the countries I have visited. Hopefully, you too will get inspired and visit our wonderful lands.
A view of the farming lands in Nicaragua from an ecoresort just outside of Managua.
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The very first country I visited was Nicaragua. Here I stayed for a month with a family on the island of Ometepe, in the middle of Lake Cocibolca (aka: Lake Nicaragua) after a few days in Ticuantepe.
Ometepe is magical. It’s a small island with two volcanos, one on each side of the island. There is a lot of ecotourism in this area. However, I did not do the traditional tourist path as I was there with a small group of Christian self-appointed missionaries from my time with a religious group back in college. I stayed with the family of the pastor who welcomed us there. Every morning, someone would bring fresh milk directly from the cow’s udder. A person selling hard breads would come by also, and the family would buy a couple of pieces of bread for breakfast. Their regular diet was so foreign to me at the time! For breakfast, they would have gallo pinto — rice with pink beans –, cream, fried cheese, and bread with coffee. As we shared more about our respective cultural cuisines and I shared what a regular breakfast was for me, they switched their menu to a fried egg with cheese and coffee. Way easier for my system to adapt! Ha!
Since I grew up in a household were people did whatever chores needed to be done regardless of your gender, it was amusing for my Nicaraguan siblings to see me helping the women in the kitchen, helping with the cleaning of the dishes, and such things. I also helped with some construction work they were doing and other traditional “male” responsibilities. But the conversation always turned to the curious thing about me doing “women’s” chores.
Exploring the island of Ometepe with local residents was great. We walked almost everywhere. We got to meet amazing people with big hearts. The island is full of wonder and it’s a great place to visit outside of the traditional tourist paths, although, not many people would consider Nicaragua a tourist destination. (Something that I appreciate, as I am more interested in visiting places to learn about their cultures and engage with the people, not to do traditional tourism.)
Metropolitan Cathedral of Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception, the Roman Catholic Cathedral in Managua.
During that trip, I also got to visit the city of Masaya. This was an adventure! My group was just three young women and I. One morning, we took the bus to Masaya from Ticuantepe. We walked to the main road to take the bus. The bus was bursting with people, but still, our guides for the day — two young men from a local church — basically pushed the three women into the bus, and then signaled me to walk with them to the back door of the bus. Where would I fit in this overcrowded bus? Well, they jumped to the back of the bus, one holding on to the small ladder buses have next to the back door, the other right on the rail of the back door. They signaled me to jump to the rail, I held on to the frame of the back door, my feet on the rail below, and the arm of one of the men around my waist so I would not fall. We rode like this for some time until at several stops later we could move to inside the bus. I was more amused than afraid, and it was the best way to experience Nicaragua. I haven’t stopped taking risks while using different modes of transportation throughout Latin America. Masaya was beautiful. It’s a city full of color and creativity. Lots of artisans call Masaya home, and you can find beautiful handmade pots, sculptures, and all sorts of art.
I returned to Nicaragua with my seminary to support the work of “Seeds of Learning” based in Ciudad Darío. This place was also special. Rubén Darío was a Nicaraguan poet who transformed literature in Spanish by founding the modernist movement. Being in his hometown, visiting the tiny home where he was born, it was really magical experience. The other amazing experience I had in Ciudad Darío was visiting a small Baptist church near the nonprofit we were working with. As we arrived, there was a woman sweeping the floor. The service wouldn’t start until late, but she went to get their pastor so we could meet him. The pastor was an elderly man, with the marks of age throughout his body, but full of joy and passion for the work he did.
Visiting the First Baptist Church in Ciudad Darío with my seminary classmates.
Ometepe, Masaya, and Ciudad Darío are some of my favorite places in Nicaragua. The Roman Catholic Cathedral in Managua is spectacular and its modernist structure in the midst of the very old city streets and architecture is a reminder of the way in which our countries live between our past and our future. I can’t wait to be back in Nicaragua someday soon (we were supposed to go there this year for my birthday in a week, but life had other plans.) I want to drive around more parts of the country and explore more of its beautiful nature and the good hearted nature of its people. I want to eat as many nacatamales as I can, also!
As Nicaraguan singer Carlos Mejía Godoy once sang:
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