Last fall, I took a whirlwind trip to see family in Puerto Rico for the first time in 12 years. It happened to be the same week as the last few nights of Bad Bunny’s residency, “No Me Quiero Ir De Aquí,” or in English, “I Don’t Want To Leave,” in San Juan. I did not get to see him, but being there at that moment proved to be special on its own.
The only tour dates that were technically in the United States for the world tour of his Grammy-winning album, “Debí Tirar Más Fotos,” were in Puerto Rico. If you wanted to see Benito, you had to come see him. This angered many and brought in an estimated $200 million to the Puerto Rican economy.
The significance of this album’s reception is not only due to Bad Bunny being a Latino man, as Latinos are disproportionately detained and deported. It’s also because he’s legally an exception. “Debí Tirar Más Fotos” sets itself apart by reflecting the realities of American colonization and infrastructural collapse in Puerto Rico.
The title translates to “I Should’ve Taken More Photos,” a rallying cry for people everywhere who “had to leave their home, their country, to chase their dreams,” as he said in his Grammy acceptance speech for Album of the Year.
Okay, yes, it’s also a breakup album, but that’s not the real agenda here. In the chorus of “Lo Que Paso A Hawaii,” he sings, “they want to take my river and my beach too, they want my neighborhood and grandma to leave.”
I was having lunch with my grandmother on one of my last days there when she updated me on her plans to sell her home in San Juan. She was trying to apply for dual citizenship in Spain to avoid having to move back to the States.
Power outages are so frequent that the appliances she’s already replaced continue to break. Sometimes she goes days without running water. After an enduring attempt to retire to the island that raised her, it was time to throw in the towel.
“How stupid it was to think I could live here again,” she said. My chest got heavy.
Later that night, I went out to sulk at the ocean. I hadn’t realized how badly I wanted to know this place. Soon, my closest tether to it would be gone.
In that same chorus, Benito continues: “Don’t let go of the flag nor forget the lelolai, cause I don’t want them to do to you what happened to Hawaii.”
I wandered down the cobblestone into Old San Juan. Crowds pooled out into every street. The moment you stepped far enough away from the music somewhere to hear yourself think, another song started. Pictures of Benito hung reliably in most establishments like he’s the second coming of Christ.
Eventually, on the second floor of a packed club sometime past midnight, I weaved my way into the crowd just in time to hear the opening notes of the title track, “Debí Tirar Más Fotos.”
The lyrics begin: “another beautiful sunset I see in San Juan, enjoying everything that the departed are missing out on, enjoying the nights like those that don’t come often.”
In an instant, as the whole room sang in unison, there I was, crying at the club. I’ll never forget that feeling.
This moment Bad Bunny has created is a testament to the power of being seen. It confronts the hypocrisy of rejecting the Latin diaspora as part of American identity as if it were given by choice. It will not let you forget we are here. On Super Bowl Sunday, the nation’s attention will be captured by the stubborn vibrance that cannot be taken from us.
If you could look into the living rooms of Puerto Ricans everywhere this Sunday, I guarantee you would see teary eyes just the same. You’re seeing the moment we get to see ourselves.
