My name is Abdiel Cruz (Prez)—Afro-Caribbean son of Dominican and Boricua blood,
raised on rhythm, memory, and migration.
I carry a lens like a drum, like a question,
like a bridge between silence and song.

Starting a 15-year pilgrimage—
not to chase beaches,
but to archive the soul of the Caribbean:
35+ nations, territories, and coastal tongues,
each whispering in creole, resistance, and light.

I move through this region not as a tourist,
but as a griot with salt in my spirit and story in my stride.

From Bomba in Loíza to Vodou in Jacmel,
from the clang of steelpan in Port-of-Spain
to the soft hush of Saba’s cliffs,
I document the everyday sacred,
the beauty that was never meant for postcards—
only for remembrance.

I am learning the languages—French, Dutch, Papiamento—
not just to speak, but to understand.
To earn the stories.
To make offerings in every frame.

This is the Caribbean speaking.
I am only the witness.