Seeking home in San Juan, Puerto Rico

by Giulia Baldini (Italy)

I didn't expect to find Puerto Rico

March 15th, 2019. My favorite day in San Juan was the first one, when I landed, took the local white taxi, arrived at the hostel, unpacked my stuff, and walked from Santurce to Condado. Santurce is the neighboorhood where I stayed. Casa Santurce is the name of the hostel I was hosted by. Casa Santurce located in Calle Mariana 1050, San Juan, Puerto Rico was the place I needed to be this time in my life. San Juan is the capital of Puerto Rico, one of the Hispanic islands in the Caribbean. It is a relatively small island, way smaller than Sicily and closer to Sardinia’s dimensions. I was born and raised in Italy, so for me, this Caribbean gem felt already welcoming and warm, with its sizes and light. It doesn’t give you a hard time, even when the words are delivered at such a high speed. They have a melodic rhythm, a captivating sound… wait, maybe this was the Spring Break effect already affecting me. Exactly, there’s this thing called “Spring Break”, a period of time that usually lasts a week when college students take a pause from their academic activities and enjoy life a bit. I say a bit because it really is only a bit and not a chunk of time. Time flies when you have fun. Spending time in San Juan signified a big bit of much-needed relaxation to me. In Old San Juan, the very first day, I met Emma and Aenoi. Emma is from Emilia-Romagna, a region in the Northern-Centre part of Italy, close to Florence, in Tuscany. Aenoi is an American man in his early 30s, originally from Laos, who has spent the last two years in Japan. He has lived all over the places – from San Diego where he served the Army to Orlando, FL – but he has also visited many countries, including Thailand, Laos, and Australia. “So why did you come to Puerto Rico?” they asked me. I let them talk, then I simply said that I wanted to have a break from the frenetic environment. But all I was thinking was more in the lines of: “I thought I had found a home in New York, but I hadn’t. By "home" I mean solid friendships, solid and crazy love, a rewarding and passionate career. It seems impossible right now. Nobody cares about feelings or love. I don’t know what to think about New York anymore. I’m an outsider. I want to find a new home. I want to build a reason to live, even if I know what I want to do: write and share inner happiness. I want a safe space. I want a home. And I want to be loved because as a human being I have a lot to give and that’s what I want to do. Genuinely.” After dinner, we strolled around the squares. Aenoi took some pictures of us – Emma enjoying her ice cream and me with my blue backpack. In that moment, I forgot college, the people on campus, the cold in Long Island. I forgot about my heart being broken. I was enjoying the warmth and suddenly I felt all the love of this world, coming from Mother Nature and God. I was blessed to be there, to have met such interesting and open-minded individuals, who were curious, had a lot of stories like me to share, and the love for life, like me. We all met for a reason and maybe that was my place. Maybe being with people that have no apparent reason to interact with me is my ultimate reason. It was destiny to meet Emma and going to El Yunque and Luquillo with her the very next morning. It was fate to hang out with Aenoi at the fort of San Cristobal the next week, and learn more about Japan, Asian culture, and some stuff about the army. At the end of the night, I went back to Calle Mariana 1050. I was happy and before getting there I’d said to my new friends “I’m gonna go home”. I used the word “home”. And that, that word, I wasn't expecting to use it, right there.