On Puerto Rico, Part IV
the parts of our life we rebuild, and the ones we forget
Two days before leaving the island, Kenny and I drove to Córcega Beach in Rincón to have a picnic and enjoy some time in one of our favorite areas in the island. We parked close to where the road meets the sea, near the house with the "Do not Park under Mango Tree" sign on one side and the large beachfront apartment complex on the other. We walked in silence towards the shore.
Entrance to Córcega Beach in early 2014.
When we got to the end of the road, it took us a moment to realize what laid in front of us. We looked to our right, and then to our left, where a pristine sandy shore ran to and from the beach entrance, where the palm trees grew high and the small wooden houses sat, but none of that was there anymore.
Córcega was gone.
My broken voice interrupted the silence for a moment. "Wow, this is very sad."
"It is very sad", Kenny said solemnly.
We stood there, surprised, unbelieving, for a few more seconds, and then in the same way we walked to the beach, we turned around and walked away from it forever. I cried.
As I mentioned in the Introduction, there was very little information circulating the internet during the first 48 hours after Hurricane Maria made landfall in the island. When pictures and the very few low quality videos started surfacing, I went through a short period of denial, thinking "oh, it's not that bad, it doesn't look too bad, of course some trees will fall down, but everything should be OK". Of course I changed my mind soon after, but it wasn't until I turned my back to Córcega that the immensity of what had happened completely dawned on me. I have to be honest about my selfishness; I realized that up to that point, I hadn't needed to come to terms with personal loss, I hadn't experienced what it felt like to know that I would never again get to experience a place that brought me many joyful memories throughout the years.
"this is what it feels like",
was what I heard in my mind.
That is what my parents must have felt like when they saw a sea of farm crops stripped by the roots on, trees bare, no color, no life. That is what the people whose house lost its roof felt like when they went back home to find their few remaining belongings destroyed by rain and sunlight. It's what the hundreds of thousands of people that fled the island permanently felt as the plane took off and they glanced down at the life and memories they were leaving behind.
A breadfruit tree with obvious signs of damage is blooming again in Hacienda Gosén. Picture from November 28, 2017.
There were devastating losses all throughout Puerto Rico, some that were highlighted by mainstream media, but thousands of stories that will never be known. However, for all the Córcegas, the places we walked away from, there were many more where the people of Puerto Rico saw not all was lost... and they've rebuilt. With Puerto Rico facing a burdensome recovery period, a multi-billion dollar debt, and a catalyzed turnover of young professionals looking for sustainable opportunities elsewhere, rebuilding has not been easy. Yet despite the never-ending obstacles, I saw it all around me in my time in Puerto Rico: the re-opening of businesses that had been physically destroyed, people putting in time to renovate public spaces, the trees that my parents re-planted were blossoming again. Maybe slowly, but surely, this progress a sign that people's spirits are unbreakable, and that, in a way, gives me hope.
It's God granting us the serenity to accept the things we can't change, courage to change the things we can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
Writing this series did not come easy, both from a logistical and emotional standpoint. Figuring out how to condense so many experiences, conversations, observations, and internal thoughts in a way that would be easy to follow and not too overwhelming was challenging, however, the real challenge was giving myself the time to process all that happened and bracing myself for all that still needs to be done.
Puerto Rico experienced a catastrophe similar in magnitude to Katrina. Many lives were lost and many more were severely impacted by the storms. Both federal and local government responses to the disaster were, at the very least, inappropriate and amateurishly inefficient. As I mentioned in Part I, it is the people who are driving whatever progress is being done. The island's rehabilitation is a long-term process that will take many more years to be fulfilled. As I wrap up this series, I encourage anyone reading this to stay in touch and involved with Puerto Rico's recovery, and to contribute in any way you can. Puerto Rico was, is, and forever will be the Island of Enchantment.
