As I prepare my book, Dining Traveler Guide to Puerto Rico, I get a lot of questions about the crisis of Puerto Rico (both financial and Zika) and how it affects, if any, the travelers. I’ve traveled to Puerto Rico several times this past year in preparation of my book, and I’m here to tell you that the situation on the ground is much different than it is depicted on the media. On my last trip, I spent a month traveling across the island, exploring everything from luxury resorts to family-run inns. I spent most of my time during photoshoots talking to local business owners, travelers, locals about their impressions. These are my observations:

I recall telling my mom about my intentions of writing a book about Puerto Rico and the first thing she said was “cuidado, las cosas estan malas por alla” (be careful, things are bad over there). Those are her impressions because although she was born and raised in Puerto Rico, she doesn’t spend that much time on the island these days, her opinions are formed on what she sees in the news. I live in NE Washington, DC and I know it’s not a good idea to hang out in New York Ave NE at 3am. I’ve lived in Brussels for six years, I know it’s not a good idea to walk alone in Schaerbeek at 11pm. Same rules apply in Puerto Rico. Don’t go joyriding in Santurce at 3am or take your $4k camera down to La Perla at night… I find it ironic that I’ve been robbed FIVE times in the capital of Europe (Brussels) and I’ve never had an incident in my numerous travels to Puerto Rico.

When I spoke to business owners about the crisis, the theme was the same. Their business with tourists remained relatively constant whereas they are hurting in the low season, when locals vacation with their family in the summer. We were at the Kiokos of Luquillo, a string of small food restaurants/shacks along the popular Luquillo Beach, talking to one of the owners and she said the toughest for her was last summer, when locals usually travel around the island. She said the drop was such that she had to let go of one of her employees. Unlike many other Caribbean destinations, in Puerto Rico you see locals consuming at the same restaurants, beaches, and hotels as tourists. To me, that’s the beauty of the island, there are no parallel lives between tourists, locals, and expats. That is what I fear may go away as locals leave to mainland or see their disposable income disappearing.

During my travels this past year, I’ve traveled with friends who are not Puerto Rican and knew very little of the crisis. As my friend Carla and I spent a Saturday beach hopping around Cabo Rojo on the southwest coast of the island, I ask her “did you know there’s a financial crisis in Puerto Rico?”. She responds: “really? We’re at the beach, there are tons of locals out, restaurants are packed.” My Dutch husband had the same impression as a traveler in Puerto Rico. He says: “when I think of a country on a financial crisis, I think of homeless people roaming the streets, which I saw very little of that in Puerto Rico, we see way more homeless people in Washington, DC. When we traveled deep into the country side, I did see some run down homes and roads, however, all the services I needed when traveling were working up to par like in the United States.”

When I talk to my friends and family in Puerto Rico, which range from bankers to college professors, impressions are far from the grim perception seen in the media in the mainland. Some have reluctantly casted their job prospect net beyond Puerto Rico, while others have started businesses due to the crisis, but the common theme is that they all find creative ways to survive, all with a smile on their face. Many business owners I met on the road talked about reinventing themselves due to the financial situation in Puerto Rico. For example, Ivan from Sail San Juan Bay. He’s an engineer by trade who worked in the construction and IT industry. When job prospects dwindled he decided to put his hobby to work: a skilled sailor, he started Sail San Juan bay in which he shares the best views of San Juan on his sailboat. He says that although it was a big change for him, he enjoys his business and all the different people he meets through his business.

The one common theme I did hear from many of the local business owners in the island is how they see people from the mainland come to Puerto Rico, especially to towns like Rincon and Vieques and curb the process of getting permits from the local government or refuse to hire locals and the government does nothing to enforce it. I was appalled when I was in Vieques and several restaurants I went to had no Spanish speaking wait staff. I bet these are the same people who get incensed when people in the mainland “don’t speak English”. There’s an unemployment crisis, however, people come from Long Island to Boston to escape the cold and they can find a job… there’s something wrong with that picture. When you visit Puerto Rico, make sure you go on tours owned by locals and endorsed by the Puerto Rico Tourism Board as these businesses go through a lengthy vetting process to get their permits.

Yes, this thousand-word essay is to tell you that as a traveler, that the Puerto Rico budget crisis  has nothing to do with your vacation. Head to the beach, have a Medalla beer (no container laws, yeay), enjoy your trip, and most importantly support LOCAL owned restaurants, tours, and hotels. In terms of Zika, here’s some great advice from the Center for Disease Control, CDC on how to stay safe. If you forget your OFF, don’t worry, there are plenty of Walgreens, Wal-Marts, and CVS on the island.

All photography Copyright Italo Morales for Dining Traveler Guide to Puerto Rico. 

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When I woke up the morning of March 22nd it was like any other morning-….until I reached for my phone.  I suddenly saw 45 of my friends have marked themselves “safe” on Facebook.  Then I noticed the notification on my BBC app:  Brussels had been a victim of a terrorist attack.  There was this uneasy feeling on the pit of my stomach.  I started to check my Facebook and What’s App for my friends.  All the memories of living in Brussels started to flash: dinners at my home in Ixelles, late nights sipping Duvel at Delirium, impromptu picnics at Bois de la Cambre, many trips taken from Zaventem Airport, and most importantly, the night I met my husband at Place du Chatelain.  I felt this deep feeling of pain, sorrow, and sadness.  However, I am sad to say I wasn’t surprised.

With those memories also came flashbacks from my deployment in Baghdad in 2005 where attacks of this nature were the norm.  Suicide attacks at weddings to markets were a daily occurrence in 2005 across Iraq. After seven months analyzing improvised explosive devices (that was my job), I learned how easy is to create terror, even in an area with such limited supplies.  At that time, my fear was that one day these actions will hit too close to home, and they most certainly have.  It doesn’t take much to create something that can create multiple casualties, and most of all, create terror.  Sadly, mass casualties are not needed in order to create chaos and uncertainty.  At the end of it all, that’s what a terrorist wants to achieve. Create a world in which we live in fear and give up the way of life we’ve sacrificed so much to achieve.

As much as I enjoyed living in Brussels, there was the negative underbelly of  a disenfranchised youth who were responsible for my unsavory memories of living in the city.  They carry the same profile of those who have committed these attacks, the type who call women “whore” if they are running by themselves and don’t entertain their advances (it happened to me several times, watch documentary Femme de la Rue), try to vandalize your car when you take the wrong turn and end up in Schaarbeek, or try to rob you at knifepoint (it happened to several people I knew).  Those are the topics that are difficult to discuss as it is better to talk about the good times, but one I feel that should be addressed.  I recall being a security manager at NATO focusing on industrial security.  At one of agency wide meetings, I asked about the threat of terrorism as the briefing focused more on cold-war type topics (mind you, this was 2011).  I was the only woman at that briefing.  The briefer looked at me like I was crazy, then scoffed at me by saying “that’s the job of the Belgian police” (in a tone of “how dare this woman ask me that question?”).  Sadly, this apathy for the state of world affairs is not uncommon in some security communities.

In my opinion, another more important question remains: how does a person who was born and raised in a city still hate it so much that it provokes them to cause such heinous crimes?  I truly don’t have an answer, however, I feel that this is something the authorities should address more in depth.  Apathy must stop.  Not only in Belgium but in the rest of the world.  How do we make all citizens, regardless or race or religion feel vested in the community they live in?  How do we make everyone feel a deep sense of citizenship?

I may not have the answers to the questions above, but one thing I am certain of:  these cowardly acts will not prevent me from continuing my yearly travels to Brussels or even living there again.  Because for every negative experience I had in Brussels, there are 100 memories to counter.  When we stop living, traveling, enjoying the lifestyle we’ve earned, that’s when they win.  Je Suis Bruxelles.

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