As Hurricane Melissa Approaches Us
Here in Cuba, you don’t know what’s harder — finding the hammer or driving the nail.
HAVANA TIMES – We had gone many years without hurricanes. Others hadn’t. This year, none had visited us since the season began. But when they issue warnings, they may or may not come — and this one is almost certain to arrive tonight. It begins its path in the south, will cross the entire eastern region, and will exit — we hope without much bad news — through the northern province of Holguín, where I live.
The eastern part of the island has always been the most vulnerable region of the country (not for nothing were many of Cuba’s struggles for independence born here). It lies far from the capital, which consumes nearly everything the country produces. I once read that this is a characteristic of all underdeveloped nations. The more economically advanced countries (and in every other sense, since the economy affects every aspect of human life) do not suffer from this kind of geographic fatalism — at least not as much.
We’re talking about a country facing one of the most catastrophic situations in Latin America, and possibly beyond. The cyclone is approaching the least privileged part of a nation that lacks water, food, electricity, gas, transportation… and where the cost of staying alive is painfully high.
There is also that general feeling that the government has divorced itself from its responsibilities to provide solutions to these hardships — which have worsened to the point that many people have decided to build their lives elsewhere. Because even though there are still spiritual, cultural, and religious spaces being created, the prevailing reality remains brutally desperate — a daily struggle to find a plate of food and drinking water.
Nevertheless, there are moments that don’t lend themselves to complaint. One must give their best, out of responsibility, to one’s own life and to others. I believe that, as human beings, we must offer the best of ourselves. And thanks to the Divine, many Cuban women and men still think that way. Right now, we are blessed (how could we forget!) with solidarity, companionship, friendship, and the kindness of our neighbors.
Churches help by offering their spaces to families in need. Those who live on second floors or higher or in homes that might be at risk are finding shelter in other houses in the neighborhood, where they can at least feel safe while the storm passes. Trees that might pose a threat to the community are trimmed by the strongest among us, and of course, there’s total mobilization. The Civil Defense, for instance, is doing its work evacuating people, giving updates on television with explanations — though we only catch them when the electricity comes back on.
Where I live, there are scheduled blackouts — all of them harsh, it seems to us — but we consider ourselves fortunate because, generally, they are respected. Still, we think about the rest of the country where there’s no such schedule, and people endure more than twenty hours without electricity.
And then there’s the struggle to find food — things people try to stock up on for a hurricane: coffee, bread, milk, root vegetables, crackers, cheese, among others. Not because they’re unavailable at points of sale — as in those years when you couldn’t easily find even a pound of rice — but because, at this historical moment, prices are so high that they’ve become practically inaccessible for a population already impoverished, devastated by such severe and prolonged crises.
Melissa is expected to pass tonight. Let’s hope it doesn’t leave too many traces behind — or at least only those we can repair without too much grief. Because in this Cuba of ours, for a long time now — and as some always say — “you never know what’s harder: finding the hammer or driving the nail.”