Just the mentioning of your name did something to us. Administrators at the campus transformed the largest lecture hall into a shelter center. I left work early to board up windows and put other preventive measures in place with the boys.
We anticipated your arrival and wanted to be ready. My wife baked plenty of sweets in our partially working oven to ensure we had enough to outlast your bitter stay. We took electronics off the floor and unplugged devices.
From everyone, I received updates about every mile of your journey to the shores of Antigua and Barbuda. First, you said Friday. Then you turned to Saturday morning or maybe mid-afternoon. Friday and Saturday came, but you only dropped a few inches of rain on us.
While waiting, I wrote, made videos, and then decided to get a kiss from you on a run. It was wet. You drenched me with rainwater during every meter of the ten miles.
I leaped over puddles and spotted several homes with wood covering their windows.
Every barometer and model predicted your inevitable arrival. When I returned home from my jog and found you weren’t there, I searched for more activities to keep me busy. I read about the Israel and Palestine conflict.
Online articles and opt-ed pieces taught me about the religious, geographical, and political conflicts between the Hamas and Israel. Despite the time you gave me, I can’t claim to understand every aspect of the events that preceded the recent armed struggle. It's hard to process the number of murders of civilians at hospitals, especially the children.
Aiding either side with more military resources is not the best approach.
As with previous writings, I could be wrong. You can add biased perspectives to the list of my flaws. Place unreasonable expectations on top of my pessimistic predictions for your arrival and impact.
Would you like to know what else happened last weekend?
We watched a family movie, ate popcorn, and enjoyed the many desserts my wife baked. Before bed on Saturday, I read about your decision to pass Antigua and head toward our sister Island, Barbuda. In the middle of the night, you sent us more rain, and the island's utility company, APUA, turned off the electricity.
Our generator kicked in, and when I woke up, I read that you, Hurricane Tammy, made landfall in Barbuda with 85 mph wind gusts. That's not cool. Barbuda suffered when one of your cousins showed up a few years ago.
Although you also touched her, you did not destroy Barbuda. No significant losses or injuries made the aftermath report.
As your tailwind dropped water and pushed wind through today’s youth rally at the stadium, perhaps it flushed out solutions in students' brains that could potentially end violent conflicts in Israel, Palestine, and other parts of the world. I can't think of another reason for the lingering side effects during this Independence week of celebratory events.
Please get some business, Tammy, and do not send any more of your storm cousins this way. We've had enough scares for this hurricane season.
Sincerely,
One of many grateful humans in Antigua.
Inspired by Hurricane Tammy’s rain showers, see the video below from a zip-lining adventure in the rain in the Antiguan rainforest. For more of my creative expressions in difficult times, subscribe here and avoid missing future blog posts.
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