Pack Light!

Our fourteen checked bags, seven carry-ons, and the backpacks on our shoulders seemed a bit much for a late summer vacation.  However, when you realize this was all we were taking with us to our new life in Puerto Rico, you will agree that the seven of us packed lightly.

As with anything new and especially different, I remained rather objective those first couple weeks in Puerto Rico.  I was only mildly annoyed every morning when my neighbor's chickens would fly over the fence, station themselves right below my bedroom window and crow. Quickly, I took finding creatures of every sort in-stride. Creatures ranging from fire-ants to lizards to tarantulas could be found anywhere and everywhere, including in the shower.

Upon acquaintance, beautiful Puerto Rico was charming enough to endear any objective mind.  Mine, however, was only temporarily clouded by objectivity.  In my determination to dislike Puerto Rico, every less-than-ideal characteristic became a charge that justified my case.

I had over-packed.  I had stowed away all sorts of burdensome articles: my pride, misconceptions, prejudice, unreasonable expectations, and close-mindedness.  They were in my pockets, in the soles of my shoes, and in my heart. Even TSA did not pick-up on these forbidden pests, and I bore their weight into Puerto Rico, and all the way through those first years.

This miserable existence needed to end; it was time to give Puerto Rico a chance.  Slowly but surely, I opened the blinds on my heart, to see things in a new light.  No, I did not dismiss the faults of Puerto Rico.  I still heard when a total stranger would scold me, saying, “You live in Puerto Rico, so you need to speak Spanish!”  I was still affronted by countless stories of government corruption and my firsthand experiences with a broken healthcare system.  I considered it a crime against humanity that, in this infernally hot place, the starting price for ice cream was eight dollars per half gallon.  

The difference came when I began to acknowledge the strengths of Puerto Rico.  For every rude stranger I met, there were others who went out of their way to befriend me.  While I do not prefer being assaulted with kisses by everyone I meet, I have grown to appreciate Puerto Rico’s courteous yet outgoing cultural practices.  Even its unpardonable failings I now consider eye-openers to what it is to be from a very different cultural setting.   I empathize with an immigrant who comes to the U.S. unable to speak English, receives insensitive remarks and feels the same loneliness.

Six years later, I am still disposing of my excess luggage.  In its place are some lighter substitutes: good memories, funny stories, a newfound love for Puerto Rico, and plenty of sand.  For whatever journeys of the heart that lay in the future, I have learned one thing: to “pack light,” and leave room for souvenirs, memories and priceless lessons gained on my adventures.