A reporter from National Public Radio described the word saudade like this in a 2014 story:
“Perhaps my favorite of these words is saudade, a Portuguese and Galician term that is a common fixture in the literature and music of Brazil, Portugal, Cape Verde and beyond,” Jasmine Garsd said during a 2014 show. “The concept has many definitions, including a melancholy nostalgia for something that perhaps has not even happened. It often carries an assurance that this thing you feel nostalgic for will never happen again. My favorite definition of saudade is by Portuguese writer Manuel de Melo: ‘a pleasure you suffer, an ailment you enjoy.’”
I love this word. Saudade and feel like in my soul, I get it. I understand that longing for something, that nostalgia for something that maybe never happened or something you didn’t experience. The Gallegos of Galicia, Spain have a similar word: morriña; in Spanish there is also the word añoranza, which is like a yearning or longing.
Millions of Puerto Ricans share a nostalgia for Puerto Rico, and this was evident more than ever after Hurricane Maria hit last September. Puerto Ricans all over came together to support their beloved island. The feelings of saudade were stronger than ever.
After the hurricane, Amherst Regional Middle School, where I teach, had a “Soup for Puerto Rico” fundraising dinner. It was a joyful night of breaking bread and building community.
As educators, we were very aware of the impact on our Puerto Rican students. We also needed to prepare for the possibility of receiving Hurricane Maria refugees. Through advisory activities, our students were able to learn about Puerto Rico’s unique status and to expand their feelings of empathy for the millions of people affected. Amherst Regional Middle School was in solidarity with Puerto Rico.
My mother grew up in a mostly Puerto Rican neighborhood to Puerto Rican-born parents who came to New York as “pioneros,” one of the first generations to make the mainland their home. Like my mother, I was born in New York and maintained strong connections to our culture and to the language. Like many stateside Puerto Ricans, we claimed our pride in being Boricua.
Saudade brings real and imaginary memories of Puerto Rico. Memories of palm trees swaying in the heat, of singing and dancing from one door to the next during the Christmas parrandas.
I remember family visits that lasted hours. I remember the warm bath water of the beaches and the thick density of the rainfornest. The coqui’s beautiful chirping is music to my ears, and I dream of holding one in the cup of my hand until it leaps away.
I see the fruit trees and the jíbaros, or country folk on coffee plantations, straw pavas on their heads to shield their faces from the sun. I feel the downpour of rain on my head while my parents and I wash the heat off our bodies.
I feel my stomach churning, riding in cars up impossibly steep and narrow roads with breathtaking views and sheer drops off to the side. I hear my Titi Sara stirring condensed milk into my cup of cafe con leche, and when I bring it to my lips it is like tasting heaven.
I feel the freezing water coming out of a pressure-less shower head refreshing my sticky body. I call up the content feeling, deep in my soul, of rocking in a hammock. I cook as if the sazón and sofrito come out of my own veins to give my food the rich, unmistakable flavor of our food.
Some of these memories are very real, from many trips taken to Puerto Rico and time spent with family. Some are very real, but are not from time on the island, but time spent with family in New York. Some of these memories are not memories at all but wishes, or words from books and song lyrics come alive in my head.
My saudade extends to Spain, the country from which the other half of my soul hails. Other sights, sounds, and feelings come to mind: eating a chocolate bar on a crusty baguette for “merienda,” or afternoon snack time; lunches lasting for hours while the kids get bored and the adults argue good-naturedly; entire families hanging out together in the park until 1 or 2 in the morning.
Even though my children are now third generation Puerto Rican (and second generation Spanish), they feel connected to both places. Thanks to a soul-filling trip to Puerto Rico last year, and many trips to Spain, they will now have some of the memories, sounds, and sights to carry with them for a long time. On the flipside, they will be like me: always missing the place where they are not.
The hurricane and the devastation in Puerto Rico triggered deep, deep sorrow, profound sadness and anxious worry for many. Tears rolled down my cheeks when I saw what el Yunque, the beautiful rainforest, looked like post-hurricane.
I instinctively wanted to fly down and help. I felt pain for those still waiting to hear from loved ones, and for those who were suffering, who lost everything.
Rage overcame me when I saw the president of this country flippantly lobbing paper towels off to crowds of people. Those paper towels can’t come close to wiping the countless collective tears of Puerto Ricans.
I also felt joy and pride when I saw how the same people sang and rejoiced and rebuilt, and helped one another by cleaning debris, cooking, and serving coffee to their neighbors.
On a short visit to my parents who were in Puerto Rico for a few months, I was moved by the strength and resilience of Puerto Ricans. As we flew in, I could see the ubiquitous blue tarps. Palm fronds were half gone on many trees.
Destruction was still evident in many places — and we were in an area that is doing pretty well overall. Yet, people we ran into everywhere smiled and said a warm “buenos días,” and referred to us as “mi amor.”
That is the spirit of Puerto Ricans. My love for them overflows. The giant Puerto Rican diaspora is united as one; my saudade is as strong as ever.
Alicia Lopez, of Amherst, is an ELL teacher and assistant principal at Amherst Regional Middle School. She has been a teacher-consultant with the Western Massachusetts Writing Project for 12 years. This is her 23rd year of teaching, and she often reflects on teaching and education through her blog, http://www.maestrateacher.com/ .