Jasmine Wanders

Puerto Rico does have a lot to offer me. A lot of mental space. A haven to work, sleep, and relax. A front seat to the best show in the world, the sun dipping below the horizon every evening.

Heart racing, I run for cover as a deafening explosion sounds in the sky above. The first blast is followed by another, and another. Men lie in the street like splayed Bambis, each in a different state of decay as indifferent flames consume them.

Even with the rampant temptation this beach bum haven provides, the disciplined backpacker can survive on just $5 a day.

While searching for my own stretch of sand, I plan to think about my next blog post, my to-do list, or a number of productive things that I could be doing. Instead, the intensity of the sun fries my brain and my skin. Thinking seems impossible, so I allow my mind to remain in a dormant state.