Tsunami Scare
So last night I experienced my first earthquake, and I have to say it was pretty frightening. It was around 2:30 in the morning, when we woke up and the entire room was shaking. I had been dreaming we were on a boat, so when I woke up I still thought the boat was just rocking really hard, I have no idea why I rationalized it like that. According to Mr. Usher, our hotel manager, the shaking lasted about 5 minutes, but I slept through 4 minutes, was in a weird “I’m on a boat” daze for about 30 seconds (during which time I kept trying to reassure Hannah and Elizabeth, “You guys, don’t worry, it’s okay, the boat’s just rocking.”), and only finally realized what was going on for the last 30 seconds. I think someone later said it was a 6.7 on the Richter scale, but the epicenter was in Rotan, Honduras, so there really wasn’t any damage here. Once it stopped I just went back to sleep (I don’t understand why I’m so oblivious, or why I was so tired), because right after I fell asleep I heard Hannah scream and someone banging on our door, “Get dressed. Shoes and water, now, and get on the bus, we’re leaving!” Because apparently in the Caribbean, earthquakes = tsunamis, and some of the locals who are security guards at our hotel said they saw tsunami warning signs: stillness in the waves after the earthquake, sudden heat (“heat like the sun” were the exact words, and said in an ominous Belizean accent it will definitely freak you out). From then on it was crisis mode, I threw on some clothes and put my laptop, bug spray, and water in my backpack. We ran onto the Peacework bus, which is actually a short bus, and crammed in with other students. After us 2 professors got on and we left, and there were definitely students left behind. “What about Mason and Richard? Where’s Bryan?” The bus was full and there wasn’t time, so James (our taxi driver who has a van) was on his way for them. Seriously, it was total crisis mode, I was so frightened. The plan was to drive to Belmopan, that’s where a lot of Belizeans went last year when they had a huge hurricane. We called Steve Darr, the head of Peacework, and found out that a tsunami watch was in effect, not a warning, so we only ended up heading about 15 miles outside of town where the ground was higher. We found out there that the watch had been lifted—there had been a tsunami but it was very shallow and mainly effected Honduras, we would have some strong currents and increased wave activity, but that was the extent of it. Our professors were so relieved that we got a lecture about how if it had been a real tsunami we’d probably all be dead, we were too slow to react, but it was good practice. For the next tsunami? I hope not, I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared in my life. I’ve experienced hurricanes multiple times, especially when we lived in Mobile, but tsunamis conjure up images of Indonesia and massive destruction. Natural disasters make you feel 10 times more vulnerable when you’re in a developing country. How long would it take for the National Guard to come? Do they even have a National Guard here? Would the US send help? Just thinking about how much damage could have been done freaked me out, because the sad reality is the people here most affected by natural disasters are the poor: the Belizeans living in rural areas in thatch roof houses, or the people in the cities who have no means to evacuate in time for something that would hit as fast as a tsunami (everyone rides bicycles and very few people own cars). But then again, I don’t think the people in Dangriga who livie in concrete houses would do that well with a tsunami, either. I’m just glad it’s over. On the plus side, driving back into town I saw my first Belizean sunrise. They don’t have daylight savings time here, so the sun comes up around 5:00. I swore I’d never wake up early enough to watch it, definitely ate my words on that one.
2 years ago