Puerto Rico: Identity and Survival in the American Caribbean

As I finish the Mofongo, that delicious container of stew cooked with fried green plantains and spiced with garlic, pork rinds, broth and oil, I look toward the little houses of La Perla, watching the dim bulbs of the street lights. This neighborhood, today known worldwide thanks to the singer Luis Fonsi and his “Despacito”, struggles to maintain its identity in the face of the growing arrival of seekers of the best image full of the colors of the sea and the colorful buildings of its inhabitants.

To tour the Pearl is to travel through the history of the neighborhood outside the walls, which was established in the late nineteenth century in what was formerly a slaughterhouse. At that time, it housed slaves and non-white servants that the old laws did not allow to live inside the walled city. A neighborhood that has lived through many social realities and has emblematic places, such as the “Bowl”, the empty pool where graffiti artists and skaters coexist, the scene of the song “La Perla” by the group Calle 13, originally from the neighborhood, or the Casa del Tren Blindado, linked to the Puerto Rican revolution of 1950. Although La Perla is one of the most desired points of interest in Old San Juan, thanks to reggaeton and counterculture, respect is recommended when visiting it and preferably during the day.

Puerto Rico: Between tradition and modernity

The reality of La Perla is transferred to the rest of the country, still not recovered from the desolation of Hurricane Maria in 2017, which entailed huge economic losses valued at more than $43 billion, according to the most conservative figure offered by the Puerto Rican government, and which produced a diaspora that accentuates the plight of a country that fights to maintain its unique cultural identity. A country that in addition to being forced to emigrate to the mainland, where more than 6 million Puerto Ricans already live, twice as many as on the island, maintains a relationship with the U.S. that is not well understood even by its neighbors.

The U.S. Commonwealth gives Puerto Ricans some of the rights of Americans, but relegates others that give them a different reality: they cannot vote for president, have no voting representation in Congress and lack full access to certain federal benefits, such as the Social Security program.

All in all, American culture is well established in places like Rincón, where English is already much more widely spoken than Spanish, the official language, for which the country has received the Prince of Asturias Award of Letters from the Spanish Royal House, recognizing this official language and the defense of the Hispanic cultural and linguistic identity in a territory under Anglophone influence. A place where many Boricuas, unique resilient, complain that home purchases are made without paying taxes to the country, while the young people cry out against corruption, which is producing the continuous blackouts.

While listening to “El Apagon”, one of the hits of the moment by one of the most illustrious Puerto Rican artists, the reguetonero Bud Bunny, I think about how real his lyrics sound as I drive across the country on highways and roads full of potholes and constant traffic jams. Crossing almost empty towns, with houses that only offer gates on doors and windows and concertinas on their grounds, what a far-fetched image of a destination in the middle of the Caribbean! In Rincon, a surfer’s paradise, you can still see the remains of the BONUS nuclear power plant in the middle of the vegetation, in front of one of the beaches most frequented by them, Dome Beach.

It seems that there is something else that makes the island a different territory, and it is not precisely its history, its music or its piña coladas, it is that feeling that everything seems broken, or under repair, that is waiting for someone to come and sit on the empty plastic chairs, which Benito “Bad Bunny” used so aptly to reflect the image of his beloved island in his latest album.

And the same sensation fills me when I try to find that identity of bomba, plena, salsa and reguetón in the same Placita in Santurce, on a Saturday afternoon in May. Nothing to see or dance, few people and not even a few tourists. Bars and terraces empty. But Santurce offers many more attractions in this neighborhood full of authenticity. Look for the murals of Alexis Bousquet, Bob Snow, Celso, Vero Rivera, La Pandilla, Murone, Senkie or Gabriel Rodriguez in Cerra Street, germ of the urban art festival “Santurce es Ley” and then, enjoy your most authentic dinner in Santaella or Cocina Abierta. Santurce reinvents itself and also offers all its contemporary creativity at the Museo de Arte de Puerto Rico and its avant-garde gardens. The advice is not to get carried away by the ramshackle image of this neighborhood that fosters social and economic revitalization and celebrates, like few others, Puerto Rican identity.

The resilient spirit: Lessons from Hurricane Maria

One cannot talk about Puerto Rico without mentioning the impact of Hurricane Maria, which devastated the island in September 2017. Although I travel years later, the physical and emotional scars are still present. That is why I am more impressed by the resilience of the Puerto Rican people, their ability to rebuild infrastructure and also hope.

The hurricane destroyed more than 80 percent of the crops in Utuado, one of the hardest hit agricultural hinterlands in the country. Raúl, who lost everything, decided to start over, this time applying agroecological techniques that make his crops more resistant to future extreme weather events. “The hurricane showed us our vulnerability, but also our strength. Now we farm differently, more in harmony with nature. And most importantly: the community has come together like never before.”

Raul proudly explains how they have created rainwater harvesting systems, how they use permaculture to maximize the productivity of every square meter, and how they have established a network of mutual support among local farmers. Their story is just one of thousands, but it perfectly illustrates the spirit of a people who refuse to be defined by their tragedies.

One of the most enriching finds of my trip is Hacienda Buena Vista, a few miles from downtown Ponce. It is currently managed by the Conservation Trust, known today as Para La Naturaleza. This organization acquired the hacienda in 1984 and since then has carried out a meticulous process of restoration of its original structures and machinery, preserving its historical, cultural and ecological value.

This former 19th century coffee plantation remains practically intact, with its original hydraulic machinery still working. The tour immersed me in the history of Puerto Rican coffee and gave me a better understanding of the complexities of its production.

The hacienda, enveloped by the tropical rainforest and crossed by the Canas River, offers a perfect contrast between historical heritage and exuberant nature . The system of canals and aqueducts that fed the coffee processing machinery is still in operation, powered by water, as a testament to the sustainable engineering of yesteryear. The guides, with their deep knowledge and evident pride in this heritage, convey not only historical data but also the emotional connection of Boricuas with their land and agricultural traditions.

As I walk the trails of the hacienda, among shade trees and coffee plants, I reflect on how this place represents the prosperous past of Puerto Rican agriculture and, at the same time, evidences the current challenges of the sector. It is a tangible reminder of what was and what could be again with the right policies and the commitment of new generations.

Ponce, pearl of the south and cradle of salsa

Continuing my tour of the island, I arrive in Ponce, the second most important city in Puerto Rico, the “Pearl of the South”. Its charm lies in the Spanish colonial and neoclassical Creole architecture, which turns the historic center into a living museum. The Plaza de las Delicias, the heart of the city, houses the Cathedral of Our Lady of Guadalupe and the iconic Parque de Bombas, a wooden building painted in red and black stripes that was the first fire station in the city and today serves as a museum.

During my visit, I ascend the Torreta del Vigia, a structure built in 1876 that served as a watchtower and informed the ponceños about the nationality of ships arriving in port. From its height, I contemplate an incomparable panoramic view of Ponce and the Caribbean Sea.

Next to it, the Serrallés Castle, a Spanish revivalist-style mansion built in 1930 for the family that owned the Don Q distillery, stands majestically on the hill. I stroll through its elegant halls and gardens, which narrate the history of Puerto Rico’s sugar and rum industry. From its terraces, the view of the city is spectacular. The museum offers an immersion into the life of Ponce’s high society during the first half of the 20th century, while the tropical gardens invite you to a relaxing stroll among native species or in its unusual Japanese garden.

In Ponce I discover another fascinating facet of Puerto Rico: its musical heritage. In this city, also known as “The Cradle of Salsa”, music is not only an art but an integral part of its identity. The history of Ponceña music reached my ears during the breakfast served to me by my waiter at the Fox Hotel, “Tito Vicente”, also a local musician, percussionist, who, while serving me an aromatic coffee, was recalling the legendary Héctor Lavoe, Cheo Feliciano and La Sonora Ponceña, explaining to me the origins and evolution of salsa and other musical genres linked to the Ponceña identity.

“Salsa is not in the feet, it’s in the heart,” he tells me as he talks to me about the origins of the plena and bomba in Ponce’s historic Barrio de San Anton. With passion in his voice, he explains how these rhythms were born with the arrival of Afro-descendant workers who came to work in the sugar cane fields. His experienced hands illustrate the use of traditional instruments: the pandero, the rhythmic patterns of percussion, and the characteristic scraping of the güiro. “Music has always been our way of telling stories, of preserving our identity,” he explains to me as he demonstrates a basic bomba pattern. “In the barrios, music was life, it was resistance.”

But what fascinates me most is when Tito talks about the Décimas and the street chorreos. These improvised competitions of sung poetry, which took place on street corners in popular neighborhoods, bear a striking parallel to what we know today as rap and freestyle. “Chorreos were our rap,” he smiles proudly. “Young people would gather in circles and compose verses on the spot, narrating their experiences, denouncing injustices or simply showing off their poetic skills.” This improvised oral tradition, where décimas (poetic compositions of ten verses) were sung in street gatherings, shared fundamental characteristics with modern rap: verbal improvisation on rhythmic bases, the narrative and testimonial character of the lyrics, its origin in marginalized communities, and its function as a form of cultural expression and resistance.

Listening to Tito, I understand how these Afro-Caribbean musical expressions such as plena, bomba and street chorreos helped lay the foundation for what would eventually evolve into contemporary forms such as rap and hip-hop. It is a perfect example of how Puerto Rico, far from simply being a recipient of cultural influences, has also been an important generator of artistic forms that have transcended its borders.

Rum tradition and a new tourism horizon

In Ponce, I also had the opportunity to participate in the fascinating “Ponce, City of Rum Tour,” guided by the charismatic Sony. This tour allowed me to discover the rich history of this southern city and its close relationship with the rum industry.

The tour began at my own lodging, the Fox Hotel, a building with a fascinating history. Sony explained that this elegant establishment was formerly the Fox Delicias Theater, built between 1928 and 1931 in Art Deco style. The theater is named after Juan Serrallés, the prominent local businessman and benefactor of the city, who was a passionate fan of silent movies. Today, this former cinema has been transformed into a boutique hotel with 45 rooms themed with 1950s pop art, a wonderful fusion of history and modernity.

“You can miss the water, but don’t miss the rum,” Sony commented with a smile as we delved into the history of Ponce’s rum industry, especially highlighting the famous Ron Q, produced by the Serrallés family.

Our tour continued through the emblematic Plaza de las Delicias, the heart of the city. Sony guided us with his expert knowledge through historic sites such as the Armstrong House, the Old Casino and the International Bank of Ponce, each with its own history and architectural significance. Particularly interesting was the visit to the Manuel Camp School of Music, where Hector Lavoe, one of the greatest exponents of Puerto Rican salsa, studied.

As he turned a corner, Sony pointed out the characteristic chamfers on Ponce sidewalks, explaining the local expression “A la milla al Chaflán,” which refers to these corner cuts designed to allow horses to turn easily and quickly at intersections, and which his grandmother told him every time she ran an errand for him to do so with the same celerity.

The Serrallés House was another highlight of the tour, where Sony told us how Pedro Juan Serrallés, patriarch of this influential family, used to meet with the citizens of Ponce to discuss community issues, exemplifying the civic spirit that has characterized this city.

Sony shared a curiosity about rum consumption on the island: “Consumption skyrockets during pre-election season, just before the dry law that is imposed during elections,” he told us mischievously, adding another layer to our understanding of the local culture.

Before concluding, we visited the firehouses on 25 de enero street, another symbol of Ponce’s cultural heritage. Sony left us with a reflection that perfectly sums up the Puerto Rican spirit: “We are like rice, there is a Puerto Rican anywhere in the world,” a phrase that captures the diaspora and global presence of this small but influential Caribbean island.

This tour not only allowed me to see Ponce’s historic buildings and monuments, but also provided a window into the soul of the city, its traditions, its pride and its indomitable spirit, all seasoned with the unmistakable flavor of the rum that has defined so much of its history and culture.

My route through Ponce ended at La Guancha, a boardwalk that still shows the indelible scars of Hurricane Maria. Years after the catastrophe, the boardwalk has yet to be rebuilt, as a silent reminder of the devastating force of nature. However, it is the same place where hope has returned with the first visit of the “Icon of the Seas,” the world’s largest cruise ship, just a few days ago. As I walked along what remains of the promenade, I listened to the locals animatedly discussing how this new cruise route could revitalize tourism in the region. However, as I observed the contrast between the tourism ambitions and the reality of the damaged infrastructure, I couldn’t help but wonder if betting on the mega cruise ships is really the most sustainable and beneficial strategy for the tourism future of this beautiful city.

Coffee and connection to the land

The salty smell competes with the smell of coffee in many corners of Puerto Rico. On my tour of the island I stop in Yauco, halfway between Ponce and Rincón. Here it is a must to taste this aromatic coffee that was once the pride of Puerto Rico in production and export. Today, little remains of that past and the local coffee, insufficient for domestic demand, is mixed with other imported varieties, diminishing its quality and affecting the local economy in Yauco.

In spite of its colorful little houses and its ceiba, the sacred tree for Puerto Ricans, covered with crochet of a thousand colors, coquí included, the small protected singing frog, which is a symbol of the country, (in spite of some tourists who are bothered by its singing), dependence on imports has made local agriculture symbolic today, in a country that imports more than 80 percent of the food it consumes, a dependence that puts food and economic stability in check. In recent decades, the number of cultivated farms has decreased by 59 percent. And access to arable land has become more difficult and costly due to growing demand and real estate speculation.

As a result, projects driven especially by young people are a challenge. Only 5 percent of them are under 35 years old. The generational changeover is seriously compromised. In this scenario, young entrepreneurs face difficulties in finding financing or a wall of slow and complex bureaucracy, despite the existence of government incentive programs. Technological innovation is another enormous challenge, in addition to sustainable practices and a huge effort to change the social perception of agriculture.

Movements such as Agrohack 2025 are inspiring for collaboration, innovation, training and connection between farmers, entrepreneurs, researchers and investors that promote change in the Puerto Rican agricultural sector.

On my trip to Yauco, known as the city of coffee, I had the opportunity to visit the fascinating Yaukomatic project. This artistic and social project transformed a group of houses in the historic center of the city into a vibrant open-air museum. The facades of these previously dilapidated homes now sport colorful murals and geometric designs that contrast dramatically with the traditional architecture.

Yaukomatic emerged as an initiative to revitalize areas affected by Hurricane Maria and the earthquakes that shook the southern region of the island. Its goals go beyond the merely aesthetic: it seeks to create a tourist destination that generates income for the local community, foster a sense of pride and identity among Yaucanos, and demonstrate how art can be a powerful tool for urban regeneration and community resilience in the face of natural disasters.

After strolling through these picturesque multicolored streets, I headed to Yauco’s main square where Dulce y Salado, a charming bar located in a house of great historical value, is located. The building, which dates back to the 19th century, was originally the residence of the prominent Lluveras-Negroni family, who established the important Central San Francisco sugar mill before it became this cozy establishment. Here I decided to try an authentic Puerto Rican piña colada while watching the leisurely pace of life in the plaza.

Speaking of the piña colada, this iconic cocktail is a source of national pride in Puerto Rico, although its exact origin is a subject of passionate debate on the island. The most widely accepted version attributes its creation to Ramón “Monchito” Marrero, who supposedly invented it in 1954 while working at the Caribe Hilton in San Juan. However, the Barrachina restaurant, also in San Juan, claims that it was Don Ramón Portas Mingot who created the drink there in 1963. Regardless of its precise origin, in 1978 the piña colada was declared official national drink of Puerto Rico, cementing its status as a cultural symbol of the island.

The traditional recipe combines Puerto Rican white rum, coconut cream and pineapple juice, preferably served with a slice of pineapple and a maraschino cherry as a garnish. As I savored this sweet nectar at Dulce y Salado, I couldn’t help but think about how this drink, like the Yaukomatic project, perfectly represents the Puerto Rican spirit: colorful, resilient and with an unmistakable ability to transform the ordinary into the extraordinary.

Young people facing the island’s political dilemma

But that same resilience can be difficult at times. During an eye-opening conversation with Amanda, a young woman working in the tourism sector, I learned first-hand about the complex energy reality in Puerto Rico. She explained in detail the problem of the frequent power outages that affect the island, an issue that generates constant frustration among residents. According to Amanda, behind this energy crisis there is a web of corruption that has systematically prevented the development of an efficient electrical infrastructure.

Amanda shared with me her concern about the professional future of young Puerto Ricans. Many of them, despite obtaining university training in various disciplines, end up leaving and working in the hospitality industry simply because it offers better salaries. This reality reflects a significant mismatch between the educational system and the job opportunities available on the island.

Our conversation turned to the political landscape in Puerto Rico, where Amanda mentioned with particular interest the growing support for the independence movement. I was surprised to learn that parties advocating independence came in second place in the last election, suggesting a shift in traditional political sentiment on the island.

When asked directly about the feasibility of future independence, Amanda was realistic but not defeatist. She acknowledged that there are enormous structural and economic challenges that would make the transition to an independent state difficult under the current circumstances. However, she expressed with conviction that “something must be done” to change Puerto Rico’s political status quo. His response reflected a sentiment shared by many Puerto Ricans: dissatisfaction with the current territorial status and the search for a path that would allow for greater self-determination, even if full independence seems a distant horizon.

Final Thoughts: Beyond Tourism

On my last night in Puerto Rico, I return to La Vergüenza in Old San Juan. The same salty air, the same breathtaking view, but I am no longer the same. This trip has transformed my perception not only of Puerto Rico but of what it means to really know a place.

I have discovered that behind the paradisiacal beaches and colorful cocktails there is a Puerto Rico that is deep, complex, full of contrasts and challenges, but also brimming with culture, history and above all, an indomitable spirit. I have learned that to truly get to know a destination it is not enough to visit its tourist attractions; it is necessary to talk to its inhabitants, taste its food, dance to its music, and above all, be willing to listen to its stories, both the happy and the painful ones.

For the traveler willing to look beyond the tourist brochures, the island offers a lesson in complexity and perseverance. From the cliffs of La Perla to the multicolored streets of Yauco, Puerto Rico reveals itself as a territory where the colonial past, the territorially ambiguous present and future aspirations coexist in permanent but fruitful tension.

Puerto Rico has taught me about cultural resilience, about the importance of keeping traditions alive in a globalized world, about how a people’s identity can be simultaneously strong and flexible. It has shown me that even in the most touristy places you can find authentic experiences if you are willing to look beyond the obvious.

As I savor my last mofongo and listen to the salsa emerging from a nearby bar, I think of all the people I have met during this trip. All of them, along with the sights, tastes and sounds of the island, stay with me.

Puerto Rico is a lesson in how to live with passion, face adversity with dignity and celebrate life even – or especially – when circumstances are difficult.

As I talked with Puerto Ricans of different regions, ages and political positions, I witnessed their deep love for their island and culture, regardless of their opinions on the ideal political status. These experiences and encounters throughout Puerto Rico weave a complex tale of an island struggling to define its identity amidst persistent challenges. From mofongo con pulpo in San Juan to revealing conversations with locals like Amanda, each moment reveals layers of a rich cultural identity but often strained by complicated sociopolitical realities. This shared passion manifests itself in expressions like “Yo no me quito” (I don’t quit) or “Puerto Rico se levanta,” which were popularized after Hurricane Maria and continue to function as mantras of collective resistance.

Perhaps Puerto Rico’s greatest attraction for the conscious traveler is not its undisputed natural beauty or its rich cultural offerings, but the opportunity to witness in real time the challenges and triumphs of a society that seeks to redefine itself without losing its essence. In a world increasingly homogenized by globalization, the Puerto Rican struggle to maintain and reinvent its identity offers valuable lessons in resilience, creativity and collective dignity.

As I leave the island, I carry with me not only memories of dazzling landscapes and unforgettable flavors, but also the conviction of having glimpsed, if only partially, the resilient soul of a people who continue to define their identity in the midst of literal and metaphorical storms. As Sony told me at Ponce, Puerto Ricans are “like rice”: they adapt to any environment without losing their essence. This capacity for creative adaptation, more than any conventional tourist attraction, constitutes the true treasure of the island of enchantment.

Practical guide for the conscious traveler

• Best time to visit: December to April, when the weather is cooler and hurricane season is avoided.
• Getting around the island: Renting a car is recommended for exploring outside of San Juan, as public transportation is limited.
• Responsible lodging: Consider local lodging options such as paradores (small hotels) or accommodations run by Puerto Ricans.
• Recommended reading: “La isla que se repite” by Antonio Benítez Rojo or “La guagua aérea” by Luis Rafael Sánchez to better understand the cultural context.
• Local economic resources: Try to shop at local businesses and visit farmers’ markets to support the island’s economy.

 This article is part of the work carried out by the students of the Master’s Degree in Travel Journalism at the School of Travel Journalism.