By: Gabriela Yareliz
We took a trip through winding roads, up mountains and through cliffs, to get to Jayuya, the place where, years ago, some Spaniards settled and decided to grow their family. My family.
The roads are narrow and look like one-ways, but when another car appears going in the opposite direction, magically, the road becomes a two-way. We ran into a funeral procession near a cliff. We took meds to combat the nausea, but we were nauseated anyway.
There’s nothing like the relief of arriving, putting your feet on solid ground and being greeted by a warm hug from a family member you haven’t seen in years. And of course, coffee and fresh squeezed orange juice.
Piedra escrita, rock with Taino writing on it: