On Jan. 5, Bad Bunny, a Puerto Rican Latin artist who has redefined reggaeton and Latin trap, released his sixth studio album, “Debi Tirar Mas Fotos.” The album’s title, which translates to “I Should Have Taken More Photos”, is a reflection of nostalgia and the things that represent Benito (Bad Bunny) and the island of Puerto Rico. However, it wasn’t until Feb. 14 that he surprised fans with a music video for one of the songs on this album. The song is called “Turista,” a track that embodies the melancholic yet cutting storytelling that Bunny does best.
At first listen, “Turista” is a breakup song, soft and stripped down to nothing but a delicate guitar strumming beneath Bunny’s solemn voice. There are no grand instrumentals, no heavy production, just an intimate space where his words land with weight. In the lyrics, he sings: “En mi vida fuiste turista, solo viste lo bonito de mí y no como yo sufría. Te fuiste sin saber la razón de mis heridas… Y no era tu deber sanarlas, viniste a pasarla bien, y la pasamos bien.” (“In my life, you were a tourist, you only saw the best of me and not how I was suffering. You left without knowing the reason for my wounds… And it wasn’t your place to heal them, you came to have a good time, and we had a good time.”)
It’s a heartbreaking sentiment, the idea that someone only experienced the good parts of you but was never truly there for the full picture. The relationship lacked depth, much like how tourists visit a country, enjoy its beauty, but never stay long enough to see its struggles. They take in the sights, indulge in the culture for a brief moment, and then move on, never truly understanding the people who live there and what they endure daily.
But to me, Bad Bunny and his fans, “Turista” is more than just a breakup song. It’s a perfect metaphor for Puerto Rico itself, a place where millions flock each year for its beaches, music, and vibrant culture, while its people suffer the realities of systemic neglect. The island faces relentless power outages, economic instability, and political corruption, yet for tourists, Puerto Rico remains a paradise untouched by these hardships.
This double meaning is brought to life visually in the music video. The video opens with a seemingly typical scene: a family, two parents, and two kids, leaving what appears to be an Airbnb in Puerto Rico. They carry backpacks, hop onto city-rented scooters, and ride away, their trip over. But as the camera shifts, we see Bunny walking into the same house. The once pristine vacation rental is now a complete mess. Wine glasses left out, food containers scattered, and party decorations everywhere. He quietly begins to clean up the mess, tidies up, and puts things back in place. The scene is simple but powerful. It mirrors the experience of many Puerto Ricans who watch their island being used, enjoyed, and abandoned, left to pick up the pieces without acknowledgment or help. It is a reality hidden behind the picturesque postcards and Instagram stories of those who visit.
As the video progresses, he finds a red balloon and holds onto it as he exits the house, and at that moment, a brand new blue Tesla pulls up outside. A new couple, excited and carefree, steps out. The cycle begins again. Then, in a final gut punch, the house’s lights suddenly go out, which is a not-so-subtle nod to Puerto Rico’s infamous blackouts. The symbolism is striking.
The house is Puerto Rico and like a heart that has been broken and mended over and over again, the house continues to welcome new visitors, despite knowing they, too, will eventually leave.
Bunny has never been shy about using his platform to shed light on Puerto Rico’s struggles. From calling out the government in “El Apagón” to advocating for his island’s people in interviews, his music has become a form of activism. “Turista” is no exception. It’s a song of love and loss, of longing and reality, but most of all, it’s a reminder. A reminder that beyond the beaches and parties, Puerto Rico is home to people who fight every day to keep it standing.
Love, like a place, can be both beautiful and heartbreaking and sometimes the hardest part isn’t the ones who leave but being the one who stays waiting for the next story to unfold.
