Surviving Hurricane María
On September 20th, 2017, I woke up to the sound of glass shattering in my backyard. It was 3am, and the arrival of Hurricane María made the house sway unforgivingly. Hours earlier, my parents and I sat in the kitchen discussing our game plan: if the windows started to blow out, we’d take shelter in one of the indoor bathrooms.
Now, as the sound of crashing trees engulfed the room, I quickly got up and hunted for provisions. Every minute that passed, the storm grew louder, imploding on us like an atomic bomb. Sleep was no longer something that would come easily to anyone in Puerto Rico.
The storm laid over us like an intruder for a full 24 hours, leaving the island in a state of disaster. The lucky ones, like us, experienced flooding and structural damages. Others, however, are still waiting for relief– their homes were destroyed, overpowered by the magnitude of the hurricane. The island has lost all traces of what made it what it was. The music that filled the streets of Old San Juan has gone silent, replaced with the intermittent roaring of a distant generator. The scenery is eerily similar to that of New England in late Autumn. And when night hits, Puerto Rico goes dark.
Hurricane María is without a doubt a turning point in Puerto Rican history– a timely succession that accompanies a prolonged economic recession and a battle against crippling debt. In 1927, we were hit by a similar monster named San Felipe, but at that time, the island only had around 1.5 million citizens. Infrastructure was less than half of what it is today, and our dependence on communication wasn’t a part of our reality yet.
In 1989, Hurricane Hugo caused similar damages, leaving millions without electricity and water for weeks. My mom tells me stories of that time. My older brother was only three, and she tells me he coveted the days where it rained– all of the neighbors would go outside with buckets and soap to bathe. You would spend nights sitting quietly in the dark, fanning off sweat caused by the Puerto Rican heat. At gas stations, people would stand in line for hours for a bag of ice. She says that, as tough as it was, it was also sort of the best time.
The scenery today is much more hectic. Because of the damage to telecommunication towers, Puerto Rico’s citizens face a daily struggle to make contact with their family. Every once in awhile if you’re driving, you’ll get a pocket of signal coming into your phone. You can usually tell when this is about to happen– hundreds of people will be parked on the highway looking down at their screens. The scene is surreal.
Others, however, face even greater challenges. Most people living outside the metropolitan area face a daily battle to find food. And even today, a month after the hurricane, over 1 million citizens still don’t have access to clean drinking water.
A few days after the storm, I got on a one-way flight to Florida and cried the whole way. My parents begged me to leave– without me there, they had one less mouth to feed and toilet to flush. Plus, as a result of the darkness that falls over the island at night, the incidence of crime and looting has spiked.
The truth is, it’s really strange to be a Puerto Rican in the US these days. In many ways, it’s impossible not to feel like you’re in exile. There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t feel pangs of extreme guilt each time I open a faucet and water flows out. At supermarkets, I’ll stand in an aisle and stare at all of the food– and think of Puerto Rico.
I could spend days describing life on the island as it once was and as it is now. It’s a cross every Puerto Rican carries on their back now– that desperate feeling of wanting things to be back to the way they were. But as the situation on the island unfolds, us lucky ones have to look to the future, set aside our sadness, and channel our grief into action.
In the weeks after María had passed, I saw exactly that. The citizens of Puerto Rico began to organize in ways I had never witnessed before. People all around the island were giving what little they to those in need, delivering water to remote communities, picking up sandwiches at local stores to give to a neighbor who might be hungry. Everyone, from official government entities, to large and small NGOs, to self-organized groups of friends, has been going out to do their part.
In this process, one of the most challenging aspects has been organizing the logistics around what supplies should go where, and how to acquire them. Because there is limited communication on the island, it has been difficult to figure out what areas need water, what non-profits and humanitarian organizations need help, and what supplies are most desperately needed in specific communities.
As everything has unraveled, it has become clear that to continue sustainably rebuilding Puerto Rico, we need to bring in diverse solutions. That is why I was beyond excited to learn about NeedsList. NeedsList is providing a simple solution in which organizations on the ground can post their needs (whether they need supplies, volunteers, or money) for people around the world to be able to donate. They not only provide a way for organizations to communicate their needs concretely, but it also gives people who desperately want to help a tangible way to make an impact.
The work Natasha and Amanda have done across Europe in refugee camps deeply resonates with the situation Puerto Ricans are facing today. They recognize that to make true impact, there must be clear communication structures between donors and organizations. Because of this, I’m going to be working with the NeedsList team to bring this technology to Puerto Rico. For the next few months, I will be working on on-boarding organizations and their needs unto the platform, with the goal of helping them find the exact supplies and resources they need for their efforts.
Although the future for our island is still uncertain, I’m hopeful that we will come out of this one better and stronger. I see it in the way thousands of Puerto Ricans are going out to work every day, helping those around them, and fighting to find a sense of normalcy again. Someday, when all has passed, I hope that we will remember these strange times not just for the challenges, but also for the way we all came together to lift our country back up as one. With efforts like NeedList and many others, I am certain we will rebuild a better future for Puerto Rico.
