An island of contrasts

Puerto Rico is an island of contrasts, where colors play against each other giving even the most mundane view, like this one from my parents' balcony, some charm and interest.

But it's the bluest of skies that always takes my breath away, especially when contrasted against the pudgiest and most playful of slow-drifting white clouds.

One thing I noticed at the hospital over the past three days when I was there with my dad was the almost unfailing courtesy that everyone showed each other. People coming into and out of the elevators wished each other a good day and a brief stay at the hospital, and while there were, invariably, one or two people who were cranky or aloof or both, those were the marked exception.

Each and every time I come to my country I realize how Puerto Rican I am, from my taste in food and music (mostly boleros) to my love of high-heeled shoes and of dolling myself up for work to what has become a potentially problematic (only in the States, not here) custom of calling everyone (even strangers) "honey" or "sweetie." That's so Puerto Rican!

This time around, I've realized that there's a part of me that likely is invisible to those who know me at my small college on the hill, where I seem (mostly) like everyone else. But I am not, and am very proud of that. After so many years of living stateside, I have fully acculturated to U.S. culture, but I get more not less Puerto Rican as time goes by (despite my fondness for silence and my inability to relate to reggaetón). I've been so focused first on getting my Ph.D. and then on my job that I had nearly forgotten how much I love being able to reconnect with the part of me that makes me different, that makes me who I am.

Recently, my mom and I were checking her calendar to see when I had been here last and it seems my last visit to Puerto Rico was 2 years ago in 2007. I did not come last year, because I was finishing my dissertation and couldn't fit a visit in, so the last time I came must have been sometime during the spring or fall of 2007. I'm still not sure.

I'm glad I'm here now, not only because I get to be of use to my parents at a difficult time, but also because I feel at home here on this island of blue skies and contrasting colors and moods. This is where I come from. This is who I really am. Like my island, I am a living contrast between what is and what seems to be.