LIFE: Thoughts on Hurricane Maria and moving forward

Written on October 21st, 2017

I've been starting the same post for the last week, stuck in how to properly start a life blog in the wake of Hurricane Maria. I won't be the first, the last, but it's something I want to put out to the world. I can only start talking about the changes that have happened in my life, on how minimalism and zero-waste have influenced and helped me, only after I get the effects the hurricane season has had on me.

No mincing words about it: Puerto Rico got wrecked when both Hurricane Irma and more importantly, Hurricane Maria struck. The infrastructure is in a sorry state, and the untold social media posts following the disaster are all accurate depictions of the damages that have happened. To say the Metropolitan Area has been recovering is a somewhat oxymoronic statement but unfortunately true compared to the rest of the Island. As the power authority trips over its own feet getting the lights back on, the government trying its damnedest to get things done under the crushing bureaucracy system and, frankly, assholes who take this disaster as a chance to pilfer and make profits from the suffering and needs of others, Puerto Rico is in a long, long road to recovery. Will it be the same island, plagued with debt and austerity measures set forth by the PROMESA bill? I don't know yet. 

But my greatest wish is to see Puerto Rico reborn from the soggy and muddy ashes to become a stronger, viable nation. It's seen in the way people help each other out, in the now ubiquitous slogan "Puerto Rico Se Levanta"/"Puerto Rico is rising". The imagery of the Phoenix, trading in the golds and oranges of the fires for the earthy greens and browns of the Puerto Rican Parrot from El Yunque, is prevalent in the simple sentence. It's a desire to not just overcome Maria's damages but truly be the Island of Enchantment that it used to be. 

In my personal experience, Puerto Rico is in a strange limbo of the 2010s and the 1950's, back when electricity wasn't as prevalent as it is now. Everyone knows a place where the signal is strong enough to make a call or what gas station has the lowest gas prices (bring a snack, you're due for a line). There are lines to get up to $100 in cash, to enter a fast food restaurant, for ice if there's enough diesel to have the factory running. The hum of power generators compete with the sounds of coqui frogs and crickets, becoming the new lullaby. There's a bananaquit around my parents' house that spends his day picking up twigs and leaves from the now rotting debris to rebuild his little nest, an apt depiction of Puerto Ricans rebuilding their homes and lives. 

But there are sounds that will always harken back to the most terrifying 48 hours of my life.