Twice now, here in Belize, I have turned on the radio and heard some song from the US. Each time the song was somehow significant, and each time, I was mysteriously unable to find the station again.
Recently I heard the following lyrics on the radio:
If everyone cared and nobody cried
If everyone loved and nobody lied
If everyone shared and swallowed their pride
We'd see the day when nobody died
So as I related in an earlier email, hurricane Dean was approaching Belize. It had become a category 5 hurricane, and shifted it's course a bit to the south, a bit more toward us.
The four of us packed up our backpacks, put the fridge on top of the kitchen counter, put everything valuable as high above the floor as possible. Picked up a 5 gallon bottle of water, locked up and left, with no certainty of what we might return to. The house we live in is very strong and I had no doubt it would survive the wind. But the storm surges that accompany hurricanes could possibly drown us all, as we live at sea level.
We took a taxi to the Community College up the hill. It is a designated hurricane shelter. We were the first to arrive.
Soon others arrived and we were directed to classrooms in groups. Our group consisted of ourselves and a family we know from down the street. That family consists of an old man, his four daughters and his grandchildren. We were never able to get an accurate count of the children. I think there are about 20 of them, the girl next door thinks there are 30, Rebecca guesses no more than 15.
Rebecca had asked me before we left for the shelter if I thought it would be cold. I said I doubted it. This turned out to have been a major miscommunication. She took one blanket, while we should have taken many more, to sleep on. It turns out that concrete does not make a comfortable bed. But it would only be for one night. Meanwhile Mr. Floyd, the old man made several trips on his bicycle back to town for more supplies. Eventually he casually mentioned that he had brought some extra blankets for us to sleep on. I thanked him of course, and since then, I have thought about it a lot. I imagine it is struggle for them to provide blankets enough for their own. I can easily imagine the old man might think, "my bones are old, I could use two to sleep on", or the four mothers "we got to mind all these kids, what little sleep we get needs to be good". Apparently though, these people shared what they had with no thought of their own comfort. They noticed a need, (though I am not sure how) and they alleviated it. It made an enormous difference in our quality of life over the next 20 hours or so. It may have made a more lasting difference in my life.
It was still day and I heard one of the mothers pointing out to some of the children something on the horizon. "like a straw it suck up the sea into the cloud there" After a crash course from her in spotting water spouts I also was able to see frequent water spouts, or tornadoes over water. These had to be far away, out in the bay, probably much farther. They were hard to see, frequently dispersing and reappearing. It was exciting, but it hinted of the enormous power of the approaching storm, still 12 hours away.
The evening passed rather uneventfully, if not calmly. Around midnight two crack heads arrived one of which felt compelled to sing parts of Kenny Rogers songs over and over again, very badly, waking up some of the many children and thereby causing enough noise to drown out the sounds of the storm. Otherwise things passed without incident and we slept, not so well, but well enough.
Around three or maybe four, I was awakened by the sounds of things slamming into the building. Apparently these were trees or parts of trees. A mother and some children were peeking out the storm shutters and I went to see what there was to see.
The mother explained what I was looking at. Off to the east there was what looked like search lights stabbing up in the rain filled sky. She explained that these were people whose roofs had blown away and they were signaling with flashlights that they needed to be rescued. There were a lot of them, and often a new one would appear. It was a very haunting sight.
Perhaps because of the falling barometric pressure, despite the commotion of twenty some kids, one untalented but musically inclined crack head, and the periodic tree slamming into the building, sleep again came easy, though my dreams were strange.
Day came, the storm having subsided to a less terrifying level many of us ventured out onto the veranda. Kenny Rogers turned out to be a nice enough guy. He bummed a cigarette and faded off down the stairs. Then he cleared the front gate, and headed down the dirt road, and in his fine example I found a lesson I hope my sons and I can keep. You got to NEVER touch the hard drugs, Use the toilet early, before the shelters full. And when the big storms a blowing, the sea is all in turmoil, it's best to stay at home or if you must, impose on friends.
Return to Corozal was hampered as there was no transportation. The family next door to us, not Mr. Floyd's family but the Perez family and our family hit upon the idea of getting out the gate and catching the next transportation that came along.
Presently a taxi came along and we let the Perez's take it as he has three daughters. Eventually a private truck slowed as it wound between downed trees and electrical lines and a lady hailed him and spoke and it was clear she had begged a ride.
She went to get her family and possessions and the man asked if we needed a ride to Corozal. I said yes if there would be enough room, and he said there were only six in the other family so there should be enough. So ten of us and our gear piled into the back of the small pickup. This approached, perhaps slightly exceeded the maximum legal capacity for a vehicle here, which is, as many as you can fit.
As our arms and legs grew numb from immobility we rode out to Alta Mira which is like a suburb of Corozal Town. Many houses appeared fine. Others had lost their "zinc" or zinc galvanized sheet metal roofs. Some houses were utterly destroyed. The other family dropped off, we headed back into Corozal and our family unloaded. The drivers girlfriend or wife spotted someone she knew and jumped out to talk to them. I took advantage of the chance and thanked the driver and offered him $10 for his gas and trouble. He refused, and I tried again, saying that he was helping strangers and could I pay for the gas he would use to help the next stranger. Again he refused the money, so I thanked him and we left. Perhaps he had made some promise to Jesus at 3am, perhaps he was just some sort of selfless being.
Our house was mostly fine. One of the pipes that lead from the roof to the cistern was knocked down by the plum tree which was broken. The back door off the laundry room was ripped off the hinges and lay shattered in the yard. Our landlady, possibly the best in Belize, came by with a man and he nailed some pieces of zinc up, to give us some security, until a door can be made. Not a window broken. Mr. Perez's home itself is fine but a number of old structures around his home were destroyed. Mr Floyd's home is fine. In Xaibe, I am told that, of the people I know, everyones home is fine, except part of good friends roof lifted and he fixed it that morning. Another building of his lost it's roof, but he is waiting for insurance inspectors to check it before fixing it.
Belize Electric had shut down power to the country early Tuesday morning to prevent electricutions. Power lines lay all over. Belize Water services was out of commission as they need power to pump the water. By Wednesday, water had been restored at a bare trickle. We had switched over to cistern water which does not have enough pressure to work the shower.
We learned to wash out of a basin under the spout in the shower. We learned to be hot and bored and enjoy chatting. One night at around 3 am, Johnny and I went outside to look at the stars. It was a cloudless night and with all the lights off in town, as well as in Chetumal just north of here, he saw more stars than he had ever seen before.
By Wednesday all the stores were open during day light hours, but without any goods that needed refrigeration. Eventually maybe Thursday, Belize Water got generators and began pumping at full pressure, and with the arrival of a working shower, civilization began creeping back into our lives. Belize gets it's electricity from a power station near Tulum Mexico. So current would have to wait until Mexico and Belize got the lines repaired. Quietly I feared this might take months. But today about an hour ago, the power was restored here.
Early in the morning, Tuesday, 21 August, Hurricane Dean made landfall just north of the Belize Boarder. Winds above 200mph were reported in that area, in our area winds probably did not exceed 165mph. Dean was the seventh most powerful hurricane ever recorded in the Atlantic, and it was the third most powerful hurricane at landfall. On May 13, of 2008, the name Dean was officially retired from the list of hurricane names.
As of Sunday August 26, 2007 in Corozal and Orange Walk districts over 100 homes have been destroyed, and over 900 damaged. About 100 people remained in hurricane shelters with no where else to go. Probably 2000 people are displaced and living with friends and family. The damage to the sugar and papaya industries has been catastrophic. In Belize, casualties consisted mostly of lacerations, predominantly minor ones. In Belize there were no fatalities.
I imagine people here will remember the day that Hurricane Dean hit for the rest of their lives. I will remember it was a day when everyone cared, everyone loved and nobody lied. Everyone shared and swallowed their pride.
It was a day when nobody died.
Some pictures from NEMO:
http://www.nemo.org.bz/nemonews/news_releases/article_308.php
Corozal Town suffered the most from Hurricane Dean, yet the people felt that they had been spared.
http://www.amandala.com.bz/index.php?id=6003
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