At dinnertime, we convened in the salón Martorell. The setting had a chapel-like feel—soft light filtering through French doors that opened into small sheltered alcoves. In one of them, Luana stood ready and rooted, cleansing and blessing, offering protection and wellbeing.

Hotel El Convento is a four-star boutique hotel in Old San Juan. It was originally constructed as a Carmelite convent in 1646, under the patronage of King Philip IV of Spain. Founded in 1651 by Doña Ana Lanzós—a wealthy widow who donated the land—it remained a cloistered space until 1903, after which the building sat closed for over five decades.

At just past 9:30 p.m. the plane touched down in San Juan with the familiar thud of American machinery. Immediately, a ripple of applause broke out among the passengers. I joined in—not out of obligation, but instinct. The ritual was familiar. It happens in Mexico too. That small, shared celebration of safe arrival.