The Sacred Sound of Home: Puerto Rico, the Coquí, and the Power of Respect

I maintain that the biggest challenge in the new millennium could be a change of habit. We could transition from a dominating commodity culture to one of genuine exchange, where we learn from one another in humility and respect. I do think it's possible. But it's up to us.

— Luisah Teish, Yoruba priestess, author of Jambalaya: The Natural Woman’s Book of Personal Charms and Practical Rituals

Exploring the Contradictions of Puerto Rico

I recently returned to Puerto Rico to visit my 81-year-old mother.

I arrived on the Island in the latter part of the afternoon, tired from the long journey, and hungry. The GPS automatically switched to kilometers and meters as the units of distance, replacing miles and feet. New buildings and development have made some of the once-familiar roads an unfamiliar maze.

By the time I arrived at my sister’s, it was nighttime. As I stepped out of the car, I stopped, closed my eyes, and listened. Finally, there it was—the first sound I always hope to hear upon my return to the Island: the coquí. A single call in the dark, high and pure. I danced my way to my sister's arms as I sang its song.

This is the song of my childhood, the one that accompanied every night I spent in Puerto Rico for the first 41 years of my life. And the signal to my senses that I am home again—that I can relax and take in the beauty of my island.

Nature’s Sanctuary

Puerto Rico is a masterpiece of contradiction and contrast—breathtaking beauty intertwined with historic brutality. These elements echo through its people, its land, and its soul. Our Island is a sanctuary of stunning turquoise shores and lush emerald forests.

Here stands El Yunque, the only tropical rainforest in the U.S. National Forest System. It serves as a living altar to ancient resilience. Mangroves breathe life into our coasts, while mountains cradle coffee fields that once sustained generations. The land hums with more than beauty—it vibrates with memory.

This Island, my Island, is the land of the coquí—a tiny frog whose song carries the heartbeat of the archipelago. The coquí cradles us at night and reminds us that we are home. It is the sacred soundtrack of the Boricua spirit.

Our Ancestry

Puerto Rico remembers the Taíno people, our Indigenous ancestors, who called this land Borikén—Land of the Valiant and Noble Lord. They were the first stewards of this paradise before the Spanish conquistadors arrived with cross and sword. Their fate was rewritten with violence and disease. Their sacred zemis were desecrated, and their language nearly lost.

But their spirit was never extinguished.

The land also holds memories of sugar plantations where African ancestors were shackled in body but never in soul. The colonial flags may have changed, but domination has persisted. The U.S. naval bombardments of Vieques and the sterilization of Boricua women without their consent are scars that remain. The imposed poverty often masquerades as aid.

Even today, though we hold U.S. passports, our autonomy is partial. Our voices, though powerful, often face political suppression. And yet, we endure—with pride, song, and joy. Because Puerto Rico is more than a place; it is a spirit. We protect that spirit with reverence.

When you visit Puerto Rico, you step into a living history. You walk on sacred ground and enter a story that began long before you arrived and will continue long after you leave. How you enter that story matters.

Engaging with Puerto Rico

To the traveler who comes to our shores, I say this:

The only meaningful way to engage with this island is through humility, curiosity, and a sense of reverence.

If you allow it, humility will transform the way you travel. It will soften your assumptions and replace entitlement with presence. It will teach you that beauty is not yours to consume but to witness. Every place you step into carries its own history, identity, and sovereignty. And Puerto Rico is not the exception. Despite what our government (and yours) might have taught you, you are but a mere guest here. Never forget that truth.

When you approach Puerto Rico, its people, its flora, and its fauna with curiosity, you will learn things you never knew you never knew. Curiosity invites us to learn rather than judge and to listen rather than dismiss. When you ask—not to fix, but to understand—you honor our complexity. You make space for wonder.

Reverence is the soul's posture of awe. It bows to the sacredness of place and people. This island is not just a backdrop for vacation photos; it is a living, breathing archive of ancestry and spirit.

Puerto Rico is not yours. And it is not a postcard.

It is the home of elders whose memories stretch beyond your guidebook. It is the resting place of ancestors who survived colonization. It is a living expression of culture, language, struggle, and joy. And it is the home of the coquí.

Walking on The Land

When you walk these beaches, you walk on land soaked with resistance and rebirth. When you hear the coquí, you hear something ancient. When you see our people, know that we are more than your hosts—we are the heartbeat of this place.

Hospitality, in our culture, is sacred. We offer it freely. But we also carry the right to ask that you receive it with grace.

Respect is not a request. It is a requirement. And humility is not weakness—it is the gateway to transformation.

Think twice before attempting to kill our coquí just because you find its song annoying.

Lessons from Puerto Rico

If you let it, Puerto Rico will teach you how to listen again. It will show you how to walk more gently. It will invite you to shed your expectations and stand, bare and grateful, in the presence of something older and more wondrous than you.

You came seeking paradise. If you arrive with humility, you just might find it.

Remember that to Puerto Ricans, the coquí is not a nuisance. It is not noise. It is a sacred sound. It is the lullaby of our homeland, the call of belonging, the anthem of the diaspora. When you threaten it, you threaten us.

This is not too much to ask, right?

Join the Conversation

Leave me a comment below and share your Puerto Rico story. If public discourse is too public for you, please send a note to [email protected].

And as always, be safe, dear sojourner, until we see each other again on these pages or in a Complimentary 30-minute Insight Session.