08.20.04

Stories like this one bring back a lot of memories.

I was living in Puerto Rico when Hurricane Georges hit back in 1998. It was one of the craziest experiences of my life. The positive thing was Puerto Ricans have been through these hurricanes a time or two. They have learned to build the majority of their houses out of solid concrete. They don�t have a lot of glass windows--mostly sturdy slats. They take hurricane warnings seriously, but they don�t panic. Windows are boarded up, supplies are bought, but there is a �just another hurricane� feeling that keeps the anxiety level to a minimum. Of course, this is all before the storm actually hits.

At first I was kind of excited. Having lived out in the West my entire life, I was looking forward to having a story to tell back home. We were properly boarded up when it hit. We could hear tree limbs snapping off and debris hitting the side of the house. When the eye passed, bringing with it its eerie silence and instant calm, we went outside and took pictures. Look ma, I�m standing in the eye of a hurricane.

Then the back portion hit.

It�s always worse on the way out. This time, we heard the roofs being ripped off and pieces of corrugated metal being twisted around struggling trees. We worried about our car, but really, what could you do? Eventually, you get so used to the roar of the storm that you manage to sleep. We woke up to a completely different world.

Huge mango trees were completely flattened. Any building or roof that had the misfortune of being made out of wood was demolished to splinters. The covered basketball court down the street? Was nothing but a twisted hulk of metal.

Like I said, Puerto Ricans have been through this a time or two and fortunately there was only one death on the entire island: a visiting surfer from the states who just couldn�t resist the gigantic swells.

But that didn�t mean the aftermath wasn�t a trip through total anarchy.

You know, you think you live in a civilized world. You think that there is an established order to things and that most people are in general agreement to follow that order. But unfortunately we have seen countless times that it doesn�t take much for that supposed order to dissolve.

There was no running water, no electricity. For weeks, in some areas. The National Guard flew in and started driving trucks labeled �Potable� through neighborhoods and people would run out with buckets, bowls, cups, anything that could hold water.

There was one panader�a in our little town that managed to get a generator. They were selling a loaf of bread and bottled water for $5 each. The line stretched around the block. They kept the doors locked and only let in one person at a time to prevent looting.

We were lucky--the due�os of the home we were staying in had a well dug in the backyard and a generator. We weren�t supposed to tell anyone for fear of a run on the place. But the pump on the well wasn�t working for the first two days and we hadn�t saved enough water. For the first time in my life, I was worried about the possibility of not having a life-sustaining commodity. We were running low and didn�t know where we were going to find more drinkable water. It was the first time I realized how very dependant I was and how quickly that could turn to panic.

We heard rumors of a shooting in the south over the last bag of ice in the town.

Of course, in a week or so the water came back and few days later the electricity was back on. People started cleaning up. FEMA showed up and everybody got their checks. I wondered about the people just one island over in the Dominican Republic. We heard the destruction there was worse. Who was going to write their checks?

In the end it was a crazy experience, but I was glad that I went through it. There are things you learn about people in a situation like that. Not all bad; we had one sweet neighbor that insisted on sharing her family�s meal (cooked on a camp stove) with us every night. Whole communities came together to help the elderly or poor clean up the mess.

I�ll never forget the first night after the storm. It was late and I had wandered outside; it was too hot and I couldn�t sleep. Our little house was up on a hill overlooking the town. Everything seemed so different and at first I couldn�t figure out what it was. Then I noticed the sky. I had never seen stars like that before. That�s when it hit me, there wasn�t a single light shining in the town below. Not one street lamp, not one neon sign. The entire island was blacked out. In my imagination, it seemed like I could hear the environment around me breathe a sigh of relief. Just a few days respite from the flashy, artificial life that we constantly surround ourselves with.

Yeah, it�s funny how quickly our way of life can be thrown into total chaos. You really have to stop and ask yourself what you can and can�t do without. It just reminded me just how fragile this seemingly indestructible world we have built around us actually is. Maybe we need to be reminded of that every now and then.

before ~ after