Monday, March 27, 2017


My current name is Puerto Rico. I did not choose that name nor any of my recorded previous names: Boriken, San Juan Bautista and Porto Rico, a latinized version of the present one. For over hundreds and hundreds of years, lots of different peoples have moved into my soil. Some of them were forced by nature, as storms and rough seas drove their boats to take shelter in my beautiful bays and ensenadas. Others used armed forces to moved on top of me, and quite a few were driven by my beauty, to grab what was left of my natural gifts. Right now, their descendants and newcomers are fighting each other, trying to figure out what to do with me. A large number of them are leaving (Am I glad to be ridden of so much noise and concrete covering my earth, plants, waters, as well as the noise they are always making!). Perhaps, once more I will be left alone with my trees, rivers, air and my little darlings: the coquís. Some times I wish I could speak their languages and tell them, "get off my face", but I can't, and even if I could they would nor pay attention to me, as they do not pay attention to each other.

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