Dean’s Disciples.

Although I remember the hurricane itself very well, when I try to think of the aftermath of Hugo, there are just a few, faint memories. I remember frantically looking for someone who had a generator so that I could go over by them and play Nintendo. I was hurting! I have vague memories of sitting at home with my mother and sister and just talking by the light of candles and kerosene lamps. The Radio was “The Voice” that permeated the entire country.

The day after Dean passed, we went out to survey the damage. Dean had quite a party! The Trees were passed out in the road and some of the telephone poles were obviously hungover from the previous night. Dean Danced with the big trees. His motto: If you can’t blow it down, drop a big fat tree on it. It worked.

I was surprised to see that the wind had not destroyed some of the poorer areas that seemed so fragile. People had begun to clear the streets in their communities of branches and other debris. I have heard over the news that some areas were hit very hard. However, most of the people that I’ve spoken to say that Dean was fairly moderate compared to the likes of Ivan and the ugly Brown Mountains of Gilbert.

When I got to my apartment, I was reminded that Dean’s Dawn had just begun. Having been lulled into a false sense of security by the fact that my company’s building and the hotel were on generators, I realized that my apartment was not. Dean’s Dawn was becoming Dean’s Darkness. This is what really sucks about hurricanes.  But there’s something else that makes up for it. Something that’s worth the inconvenience.

People talk to each other.

People sit with candles and tell stories of their lives and of experiences they once had. People listen to opinions and points of view and debate just for the fun of it. The Beggars stock portfolio is up 30 points on the Nasdaq. When the infrastructure breaks down, people find time to get to know each other.  When there’s no power, every joke is funny. Everyone is a friend (well almost everyone).  For days people have had no choice but to talk to each other.  The spirit of Jamaica is almost tangible at this time. Jamaica is bonding and the radio DJ’s are providing the background music. I love it. I must commend the radio stations for bringing the news and giving us hours of great music.

Things are returning to normal and while many people still don’t have electricity, the tension of the dark Kingston night has been somewhat alleviated. That said, many areas are still reading by candlelight. I saw one area that had service turned on and sparks flew all along the wires like fireworks. I’ve heard of houses in Beverly Hills burning down due to sparking wires. Every now and again I’ve heard the loud BOOM of a JPS transformer. In some parishes damage to the electrical system is said to be worse than that of Hurricane Ivan. Some people may be without electricity for weeks.

Traffique

Jamaica got back to work quickly though.  By Wednesday New Kingston was churning again. And most of that churn was the traffic.  Jamaicans have their own special way of driving.  I call it Push Theory.  Push Theory states that if you jam your car in front of someone, they will stop to avoid hitting you, thus allowing you to pass unencumbered.  I must say that I have come a long way in Push Theory but today I watched masters practice their art.  WORST TRAFFIC EVER!!! I spent half an hour in one intersection that had no traffic lights.  If you want an idea of what that looks like, take a handful of matches and drop them from a height of three feet onto a flat surface.  Two and a half hours and two shortcuts later, I was finally home.  New experience of the day: I got called a ‘sodomite’ for not stopping to let someone pass.

Security

There were only one or two minor reports of looting, but crime is still a big concern. We are under a state of emergency which gives the police more power to enforce curfews, etc. But Jamaicans have no trust in the police and see it as an opportunity for them to abuse even more power. Elections are one Sept 3rd away so it’ll be a trying time for Jamaica. I have seen the way the people have bonded through Dean’s Destruction and I pray that it will be a stronger force than the division induced by politics.

Jamaica is wounded, but is healing. We’ll be just fine.

The Dawn of Dean

I remember my first hurricane experience quite well. It was Hurricane Hugo in St. Kitts. With a name like Hugo, you just know things are going to be ugly. For the first time, I saw wind. Like the invisible man who can be seen when wet, the wet wind gave me a glimpse of it’s form. It had mass. I saw it spiral horizontally down the street as I sat on the porch of our house where only a firm breeze could be felt. The wind had a voice.

On Sunday I watched the wind from the 11th floor of the Hotel, on a porch overlooking New Kingston with the Blue Mountains a backdrop and where only a firm breeeze could be felt. The wind was a ghost. To see a hurricane from this perspective is a sight to behold. Trees dance to the drone and howl and zinc is flung like confetti. Sheets of liquid wind sail over the land and smash into everything. Dean arm wrestled for hours with every building and standing object. Agile coconut trees wriggled their way out of defeat, but Mr. Satellite Dish was not so lucky. Neither was Mr. Water Tank.

However, the damage done was not as bad as expected. Just before Dean got to Jamaica, the eye turned and went south of us. He turned his gaze away from Kingston and looked out to sea. Even Dean knows better than to look a Jamaican Badman in the eye.

The problem with hurricanes is that they last so long. You can only see it from one perspective, and after a while it’s just a TOTALLY AWESOME DISPLAY OF NATURE over and over and over again. Dean went on into the night bitching and moaning and throwing things. By midnight he had left and I rested, looking forward to seeing the damage the next day.

The Calm before the Storm.

Today was a glorious Caribbean day in Jamaica. Hot and sunny! The prefect day to go to the beach or for a long drive in the country. A little more traffic than usual, but a very pleasant day. But instead of going to the beach, Jamaicans went to the supermarket and hardware store in droves. Plywood, flashlights, bottled water, canned foods, people were stocking up on everything. Dean is coming and somebody’s pissed him off!

It’s hurricane time again. Somehow every year, the Caribbean seems like a set of bowling pins, waiting to be flattened by a ball of wind. This one, Hurricane Dean has his eyes set on Jamaica. This isn’t a good time for a hurricane (if ever there was a good time). Election fever is in the air and the destabilizing effect of the hurricane may spark violence.

The weather reporters are looking at this storm almost in awe of it’s physique. It’s a powerful storm that will do quite a bit of damage. Forecasts predict that the eye will reach us at about 2:00pm tomorrow (Sunday August 19th). I have been selected as part of the response team for my company. We will be bunkered in a hotel waiting for the storm to pass.

The Violence of nature Versus the violence of Man.

Jamaica is a violent place. The thugs are stone cold and have no fear. But tonight, every bad man hopes that Dean, the Don, will have mercy. There’s nothing like a hurricane ripping through your country to put things in perspective. By far the most affected will be the poor people of this country and one can only hope that mercy is granted even for their sake alone.