The Aftermath

Utter desolation.

Campus is at the center towards the bottom.

Vertical matchsticks dotted the landscape, which I recognized as trees completely devoid of green.  Our view of the ocean which had been obscured by flora was clear, though the water which rolled into the shore appeared brown and turbid. Palm fronds and roofing material covered our front porch.  Telephone poles with their tangled balls of wires had been felled across the streets, with one resting on our usual egress. K cautiously wandered onto our balcony, peering around the corner into the stairwell, where he noticed a dog, with his tattered rope collar, cold and shivering in the corner.  After determining that it was safe, he called for E and I.  The first thing I noticed upon exiting were the missing roofs.  More than one building had their eaves exposed, a result of the beating we had taken the night before.

I turned towards the west and saw that our neighbor’s house was missing the second floor where they had lived.  A lonely dresser stood amidst the wooden shambles of their home.  The concrete bottom floor remained intact.

Further down the hill, two entire walls were missing from an apartment building.  It was almost as if someone had created a model to show the interior of the building. The kitchens were exposed, with the cabinet doors hanging on by their hinges.

For months, we had heard construction noises close to our home and for the first time, we saw the site and heavy equipment as the rainforest had disappeared overnight.

We put E into the carrier and I put on his diaper bag backpack.  K slung our laptop bags onto his back and we started down the hill.  We had to stop every few minutes to try to remember how things had looked before the storm. Not 100 yards from our home, we ran into our neighbor whose home had been destroyed.  We asked him if he and his family were safe.  He replied that they were; they had made it through the night huddled together in their bathroom, praying for relief.  They were staying with some friends, he said, as he pointed to a building nearby.  With tears in his eyes and a slight tremble in his voice, he told us that they would rebuild. We wished him well and continued down the hill.

We ran into some friends at the base of the hill.  People had packed their remaining goods into suitcases and were headed up the big hill towards the school.  We also saw students and families coming down the hill from the school to survey the damage.  K decided to run back to the apartment at this point with our neighbor from our apartment building to grab our suitcase, in case we would not be able to return.  I had E in the carrier and we helped carry bottles of water up towards the school. 

 

On our way, we saw our friends at Jack’s Chinese restaurant.  We ate there frequently and had become close to the family, who had two little boys, a 4-year old and an 8-month old.  The family had moved a mattress into the first floor of the restaurant, where I found the little boys sitting with their grandmother.  They had lost a window upstairs in rooms where they lived, but otherwise were safe. After inquiring about our family and home, they told us they’d be opened soon and we continued on to campus.

Between Jack’s and campus was a relatively flat piece of land.  It had always been a welcome relief after pushing E and his stroller up the hill or after carrying a backpack, my breast pump, and books up the hill.  From this vantage point, we saw large poles crossing the street with their wires strewn on the ground, entire restaurants obliterated, and people walking about as if in a daze. 

Tulips Restaurant

We carefully made our way around the wires and to the shelter of campus.  We sat down in the campus center café and listened to the stories of other students who had survived the night at home.  After awhile, E tired of the carrier and whined to get down.  Gratefully, K arrived with our suitcase and a friend told us that some families had gathered on the third floor of the campus center.  We walked up the stairs laden with baby and bags to find a group of four families in one of the small conference rooms.  I was relieved because E could finally get down and crawl around with other babies.  The dads decided to go back to the homes and gather the rest of the food and water each of the families had stored.  So the other moms and I sat with the babies and let them play and crawl around.  At this point, the air conditioning was not turned on and the room had become stuffy.  After arriving back from our house, I asked K to go back and get the little fans which my mom and dad had brought for us back in May.  (They turned out to be a fantastic blessing!)  

I will pause here to tell you what an incredible man my husband is.  All week long, he didn’t complain once that he was tired or hungry or in pain.  Whenever E or I needed something, he made sure it was taken care of.  That first day, he walked home and back to campus five times. That’s five miles carrying heavy suitcases.  He made sure we had food to eat, he would walk with E outside at night to calm him down. He helped whenever he was needed, by whomever asked him, but he made sure that we were safe first.  He was my rock when I wanted to fall apart.  He was my protector when others had reached the end of their patience.  He was my leader when I didn’t know what to do.  He prayed over us and thanked God for our safety at every turn.  He has a hat which looks like something Indiana Jones would wear and after our Dominican adventure, he has earned the right to wear that wherever he pleases. He is extraordinary man and I am blessed to be his wife.

Back to our story….

Due to the heat, and with more family goods being brought into the room, I took E and decided to see if any of the other study rooms on the third floor were open.  The third room I ducked my head into had a group of women eating lunch.  They asked if I was looking for someone, and I said no, just a place to stay.  They smiled at E and responded that they were going to stay at one of their apartments, that we could have the room if we wanted.  Relieved, I thanked them and stood outside the door while they cleaned up their lunch.  They had moved some of the furniture from the common area into the room and had moved the large table to one side.  We moved our belongings to one corner and told our friends that they were welcome to join us.  They took us up on the offer and moved into CTL #3 with their little boy who is only 2 weeks younger than E!

Our two little fellas, courtesy of C.

What a blessing these friends were throughout the week.  They offered us whatever they had: baby food, toys, flashlights, fans, towels, and snacks.  We reciprocated and I believe our week went so smoothly because of the mutual kindness and understanding.  We had heard reports of things going missing from rooms, so we ensured that one adult remained in the room at all times.  They graciously watched E so K and I could walk about the campus and survey the damage. 

From the student center, there was some visible damage to the old library and one of the classrooms.  Metal sheeting was strewn about on the walkways.  As we walked towards the NW corner of campus, we saw that the IT building’s roof was gone.  The health center was missing its roof, as well as the glass doors to the ambulance bay.  At the very NW tip of campus was a building which contained a branch of the National Bank of Dominica, as well as a small convenience shop, a Subway restaurant, and Indian restaurant, and tiny phone store.  Off the back of the building was an area known as the Subway deck.  It was a covered place with a lovely view of the beach and it usually had a nice breeze.  Many students studied here and even more ate lunch here.  We walked back on the deck and came to an open area before turning and noticing that the glass doors separating the indoor eating area from the outdoor area were missing.  They had been blown away.  Equipment from the Indian restaurant laid sideways, toppled by the winds and pushed outside.  We walked back out and past the Early Learning Center (essentially a daycare and elementary school.)  Its windows were gone, as well as some of the walls.  Toys, furniture, and school supplies were littered across the floor. As we headed back to the student center, the family lounge came into view.  The family lounge had been a modular trailer situated close to Classroom 1.  Two entire walls were gone.  The only reason the kitchen remained was due to the cabinetry. Amazingly, the A/C continued to run, despite one of its supporting walls having had disappeared. 

A view from the Subway deck into the indoor eating area.

Overwhelmed, I wondered what our Dominican friends’ homes must look like if our well-constructed campus looked like this.  We had been friendly with many of the workers on campus, many of whom commuted two hours daily from the capital of Roseau to work at RUSM.  There is still great need in Dominica.  The country had generously put together aid for other Caribbean states after Hurricane Irma, aid that it desperately needs now to rebuild within its own borders.  If God puts it on your heart, please donate to hurricane relief in Dominica.  The following is a donation put together by a friend and fellow student: 

Hurricane Relief for Dominica 

For His Glory,

KCE 

*Also, the majority of the photo credits go to Ali Pitco, a friend and fellow student at RUSM. Thanks Ali for your terrific work in documenting this time.

How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria?

Dearest Family and Friends,

                Thank you so much for your prayers for our family.  Now that a little time has passed and we’ve been able to relax and recuperate a bit, I wanted to share our story with you.  I will write all of the little details that I remember here, so there will be more than one post over the next few days.  If you’d like to hear our story, pour yourself a cup of coffee (or K’s favorite, Diet Pepsi) and settle in with us for a tale of God’s incredible mercy.

                On Saturday afternoon (9/16) I was studying in our bedroom (which doubles as my office.)  On a whim, I checked the NOAA website, which tracks tropical storms/hurricanes in both the Atlantic and Pacific.  I noticed a few new ones, namely Tropical Depression Lee and Disturbance #15.  I made a mental note to recheck the website when I finished studying; later that night, the storm had become Tropical Depression Maria.  Early Sunday morning, she was Tropical Storm Maria, with suggestions that she would likely become a hurricane by the next day, likely passing over our home island of Dominica.  After a few jokes at church, K and I decided to pick up some water jugs at our local shop before heading home to our apartment.  I also made a quick check at home and refilled all of our empty gallon jugs using our Brita filter.  Later that night, we received an email from campus notifying us that campus would be closed the next day and that we should prepare enough food and water to last a few days.  We had plenty of canned goods and bags of pasta in the pantry, so we felt okay on our food supply.

                Monday came with blustery winds and gray skies.  Maria had become a Category 1 hurricane and was forecasted to become at least a Category 3 by late in the day.  I had an exam scheduled for Tuesday, so I spent quite a bit of time in the bedroom trying to study.  I say “trying to study” because I would read one line, then think about how the hurricane might impact our island, and especially our family.  Eventually, around 3:00 PM, I gave up studying, as we were getting constant weather reports from online indicating that Maria had strengthened to a Category 4.  Around 6:30 PM, we received an email from the Dean of the Dominica campus, which alerted us to the fact that this hurricane was potentially dangerous, and that we should shelter in place.  Just after this, the lights went out.

                A few minutes went by and our generator kicked into gear.  We went into the bedroom and peered out to the northwest, towards the direction of campus, and at many of the other student housing apartments, some of which did not have generators.  The winds picked up speed and as we laid E down into bed, I laid next to him, iPad in hand, to study my notes.  K walked in a little while later, informing me that Maria had become a Category 5.  Externally, I remained calm, internally, I felt ready to run or fight, whatever I had to do to protect our little one.  K suggested that we move the mattress into the living room, where we only had a small window above the door and one much farther away in the kitchen.  He felt we would be safer there than in the bedrooms, which both contained two larger windows.  I held E close as K wrestled the mattress next to our interior wall, barricading it in with the couch.  I moved E’s sound machine and bunny, Lenny, into our bed for the night. 

                K and I both attempted to call our parents and were thankfully successful.  K’s parents kept us up to date with storm information and told us that they had been in constant prayer for us.  My parents encouraged us that we would be okay and that this would be a really neat story someday.  We were able to send one last text before our internet went down around 9:30 PM.  So we laid down, nestling E between us, preparing for a long night.

                Around 11:30, we ventured into the bedroom to get a firsthand look at the storm. K stepped up to the window, but I was wearing socks and noticed that the floor was wet.  We looked for water coming in from the ceiling, but instead found it leaking in through the windows and from the light sockets on the wall.   When we went back into the living room, it looked like our house was filled with smoke.  We felt panic rising as the winds were gusting and we had already seen a porch roof sheared off our neighbor’s house.  We realized that we would have nowhere to go if the house really was on fire.  Luckily, the “smoke” didn’t smell and instead we decided the haze was a result of all of the water in the atmosphere.  At this point, K and I decided to pack our most important items:  food/clothes/diapers for E, passports, wallets, electronics, and E’s baby book in a bag in case we needed to leave immediately.  We put this bag on a couch and laid down again around our baby.

                It was then that we resolved to shield E’s body with our own, should the winds blow in our door or the windows.

                We laid there, listening intently to the storm.  From 11:30 PM to 1:40 AM, Maria tormented the island, laying waste to many homes.  At one point, we heard what sounded like an outdoor trashcan being thrown around in the apartment above ours.  It would occasionally quiet, only to pick back up again.  Water was flooding both bedrooms and we were fortunate that there is a lip between the bedrooms and living room, which kept our area dry.  Around 2:00 AM, we finally fell asleep, awakened on occasion by the rushing wind. E woke us up the next morning around 6:30 AM.  What we saw when we opened our front door astounded us.  

                In our next post, I'll include more before and after pictures from our island home.

 According to Google, we live in the Middle of Nowhere.  (Actually, Ross is located in Picard, just south of Portsmouth.)  The eye of Maria passed south of us, through the capital of Roseau, then spun north, passing directly over us and Portsmouth as well.

From the Weather Channel, this is how the Maria was forecasted to hit on Monday evening, just before we lost internet.

Our home was the one with the green roof.  We lived on the middle floor, on the right side in this view.  The purple building at the bottom of this picture will be shown in the next post.