En mi Viejo San Juan/In my Old San Juan

"Mi cabello blanqueó, ya mi vida se vá, ya la muerte me llama". These nostalgia laced lyrics are from a song called Mi Viejo San Juan, the anthem of the Puerto Rican diaspora. The song is about a man lamenting that he was never able to return to the Old San Juan he loved so much during his final days on earth. My father is ninety-five years old and preparing for his physical departure of this world. On Tuesday, he told us from his bed: "yo siempre seré puertorriqueño". I will always be Puerto Rican. That simple statement triggered "Mi Viejo San Juan" to be stuck in my head for the past few days and inspired me to write this post.

My Father and I, sometime in the eighties

When I was five years-old, my father decided to retire in Puerto Rico after decades of living in Upstate NY. We moved there and my childhood journey began. My childhood in Puerto Rico has been the main influence of everything I have done in my adult life. My love for food and travel began as a six year-old eating octopus salad at the seaside with my parents. My love for travel was born during the road trips we took around the island on my father's huge 1978 baby blue Ford LTD. On a Saturday morning, the car would hug the curves of the mountains of the center of the island until we reached a lechonera, a hut where pigs are roasted on a bamboo stick over coals. It was warm and the air was always misty as my father asked for cuts of pork with rice and beans. My dad always wore a guayabera (an island cotton shirt) and introduce himself to strangers with a sparkling smile that he has been his signature for over nine decades.

The Cordillera Central of Puerto Rico

That Ford LTD also took us to San Juan several times. We lived in the southern coast of the island, only 35 miles south of San Juan, however it seemed like a long journey. Once there, we walked the streets of Old San Juan, with its pastel colors, cobblestone streets, and the iconic Morro Fort. I vaguely remember being a little girl and flying a kite in front of the ample grounds which welcome the fort. Old San Juan is laced with nostalgia. You can see it in the faces of the elderly women who leave the church, in the sea weathered castle, and the balconies with shipped black paint.

The Balconies of Viejo San Juan, January 2014

One of my favorite memories of that era was my father singing at the terrace of our home. He sang love songs to my mother and gathered with neighbors and friends during Christmas time to sing parranda songs. I can still see myself as a little girl, sitting on a rocking chair at our terrace and listening to my father play "Mi Viejo San Juan" on the guitar. His voice was calming and natural as he played his Spanish guitar. When his fingers touched the cords, he captured everybody's attention. Even our German Sheppard Max, ears would perk up in admiration.

As an adult in Pozuelo, January 2014

I recently visited Puerto Rico in January 2014 and it was a beautiful homecoming. I had just gotten married and had the opportunity to show my husband many of the places I enjoyed as a child. We walked the streets of Old San Juan where I shared stories of my childhood. We drove to my hometown of Guayama, where we had lunch in Pozuelo, a fishermen community where my father used to take us for my beloved octopus salad. We drove by my old house and the terrace where so many lovely memories were made.

El Morro Fort, Puerto Rico

In 1992, we left our beloved island back to the mainland. Since then, my father never returned to Puerto Rico. However, there were many times when he picked up his guitar in Upstate New York and transported me to the years of my childhood. He sang "Mi Viejo San Juan" and I too felt the nostalgia for the land which saw me grow. It took me back to the days at the beach, the lazy afternoons in our terrace, and our road trips on the LTD. My father inspired me to be fearless and to always discover new things although he never went beyond the United States and Canada. Although his country count was limited physically, he traveled the world because I always carry him in my heart.
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En mi Viejo San Juan/In my Old San Juan

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