I sometimes think I got a late start with my global treks.
At 27, I headed to Cancún. It was the first time I got my passport stamped and the first time I was traveling to another country unaccompanied. To say it was a big deal would be an understatement – I was thrilled and a pinch afraid. Still, what I couldn’t have known would be how that trip would turn into a lover of travel. And while it took me a few years before I made it to Europe, I can still see myself partying at a nightclub, dancing beside Alonzo Mourning and Salt ‘N Pepa, lounging by the most beautiful beaches I’d ever known.
Fast forward over 20 years.
From Istanbul to Bergen, Bogotá to Quito, Buenos Aires to Helsinki, Akureyri to Athens, and so many places in between, my feet have touched the soil of hundreds of wondrous places. Each carries its own magic, its unique splendor. I don’t believe it’s fair to make comparisons, so I’ll avoid doing so here.
Some of the biggest lessons in my life have been through my international treks.
- Be flexible – it’s OK to stray from the original plan
- Don’t take it personal – the actions of others are often unrelated to you
- Maintain your convictions – even if alone, don’t cave to the majority
- There’s always time for what matters
- Listen to your heart
Certainly, that list could go much longer. These are the ones jumping out at me at this very moment. Rather than dissecting each one, I’ll stick with two – one that moved me to make a life-changing decision, and the other that is my teacher every day.
The last one (#5) is something that first hit me via a fellow solo female Latina trekker. We met in Edinburgh, staying in the same hostel, the same room. Margara, a Mexicana who had lived 3 years in Australia, and I hit it off immediately. But it wasn’t until the following week when we met up in Paris where I’d find her advice so impactful.
One night at dinner, she found me pensive and asked why. I confided that I wasn’t ready to return to my apartment in New York City. Her honest response sounded so simple: ‘Lola, que dice tu corazón?’ Noting that if I listened to my heart, nothing would go ‘wrong,’ she advised me to consider what was keeping me questioning myself. The short version of the story is that I stayed in Paris for another three days – not much but enough for me to learn that my heart indeed would not lead me astray.
The other brings me to #3.
On 30 November 2021, I returned home, to Borikén. I say ‘home’ not because it’s where I’m from, but because this is the land of my family and ancestors. Being here has been (and continues to be) a learning journey, filled with surprises (some disappointments) and a bunch of inspiring connections.
One of my priorities is fighting the ‘isms and the ‘ations (gentrification, colonization, discrimination). And alongside that, my #1 priority actually, is keeping my convictions of this land becoming an independent, sovereign nation. To that end, I use my protest poetry to remind folks of our history (first as a colony of Spain), and now (since 1898) a colony (so called ‘territory’) of the U.S.
As a cultural journalist, I share stories of our vibrantly beautiful culture, including about La Bomba Puertorriqueña and our rich African heritage. I also write about gentrification and folks who continue to colonize us by taking advantage of Ley 60 (Act 60 and its tax incentives for non-Puerto Ricans).
My convictions are strongly held ones and often they are unpopular with acquaintances, family and some friends. Still, I remind them (and myself) that my mission in returning home isn’t about making everyone feel ‘comfortable’ with the status quo. Nor am I here to pretend I’m OK with the abuses of this government and that of the U.S.
I’m completely comfortable ruffling a few feathers because my convictions are non-negotiable. My love for this land and my beautiful people are what matter most!
Cover Image: Max van den Oetelaar on Unsplash
