Why Do You Say We’re a Third World Country?

“Well, it could have been worse,” we all tell each other to the sound of generators humming in the background. It could have been worse if Hurricane Dean had hit us dead on packing 160mph winds, or if the forward speed had not been a fast 20mph. “It could have been worse,” we say with long ago memories of Gilbert in our minds or newer memories as we sat transfixed in front of televisions watching Katrina wipe out an entire region of the richest country in the world and kill a city as big as Kingston. And it could have been worst if we had not prepared……

Dean, the hurricane with a name belonging to a bank manager or a church pastor, was set to hit Jamaica along the same course Gilbert had almost 20 years ago; Morant Point to Negril, straight down the middle; and was getting stronger every hour. On Thursday, three days before touchdown, hardware stores and supermarkets started to fill up. Plywood and tarpaulins were sold out by Saturday when the few who said “It nah come” finally realised they were wrong. People stocked up on what they really needed following carefully planned lists not frantic overspending. By Friday the sounds of power saws and hammers filled the air. Government Agencies were busy cleaning drains and ODPEM (our Emergency Management Agency) was preparing shelters. ODPEM, JPS (power) and NWC (water) were constantly on air giving instruction. By Saturday night we knew it would pass about sixty miles south, far enough for us to miss sustained 150mph winds but not far enough for us to avoid hurricane force winds, at least not the southern parishes. Food for the Poor, the Jamaican Red Cross and other charities were getting ready. Buses were sent to flood prone areas but, as usual, came back half empty. Some weren’t leaving, Residents of Port Royal, descendants of pirates, vowed they would “Go down with the ship”.

Sunday morning, zero hour, dawned clear and crisp with a soft breeze and a light drizzle. We’d done all we could. Now we waited. Reporters, those brave and half-mad people, started rolling out, positioning themselves in the areas expected to be hardest hits. Risking their lives for The Story, as reporters all over the world are wont to do. Photographers hoping for the perfect picture packed up their gear and headed out. Those mad, crazy people known as surfers packed their boards and headed for Palisadoes and Roselle in anticipation of the Big Wave. And they waited. JPS had announced they were shutting down the entire grid at approximately 10:00am or as soon as it would become dangerous not to.  10:00 o'clock came and went and still we waited. Meanwhile, friends and family all over the world listened intently to Power 106 on-line for the “blow-by-blow.”

At about 10:00 my cousins to the East phoned, they had had one or two squally showers. Then it started. That ominous announcement: “The Jamaica Public Service Company Limited wishes to advice their customers that they are now starting to shut down the power grid, commencing with the parish of St Thomas.” The waiting was over. Heavy showers and gusts of maybe 60mph. Then it stopped. Then it started again, only stronger. Sitting at the dining table listening to our battery radio give news coming from St Thomas, Dean had indeed started to blow. Things were not good; roofs were going, waves were pounding. Some cellular service was lost as repeaters were blown out of alignment. My Uncle, who lives on a hill overlooking the ocean, as sailors always do, saw the sea come in and cover two storey houses built on the beach. Then we heard a low roaring in the distance. Here it came, not much more rain than a March shower, nothing close to Ivan, but with winds speeding like Formula II cars. And sounding like them too. They receded and we peeped timidly through the blinds. Then closed them hurriedly as the blow started again. At about 5:00 or 6:00 a herd of wild elephants started to run across the roof. This seemed to continue forever but probably only lasted 10 minutes, our solid concrete house shook like an earthquake. This happened two or three more times. Then weaker and less often. Then fading away to a drizzle. But now the wild elephants had reached Clarendon and Manchester. By the early hours of Monday morning Dean was gone, gathering speed and heading for the Yucatan.

Monday morning dawned to the sound of chainsaws and generators. We went outside, tree limbs and awnings lay around. Our neighbours were already at work cutting fallen trees and piling them on the sidewalks. Others checked on the old folks living alone.

Then, pay close attention all you ex-Jamaicans who went to seek greener pastures, Jamaica came alive like a well-oiled machine.

The radio stations were back to back announcements. Utility companies told us what they were doing and what they planned to do. Of course, at that point it was all damage assessment but the plans sounded sensible and logical. By Tuesday JPS were telling us that Kingston and most of the main population areas in less damaged parishes would be back in service by the week-end with main population areas in the harder hit parishes up by the following week-end. Private corporations gave status reports, our largest chicken processor announced that all was well and deliveries were being carried out as long as roads were accessible. And KFC was open with cars lined up around the block.

Helicopters criss-crossed the skies; reporters still chasing The Story, utilities inspecting their facilities or politicians on their way to a photo op. Trucks and vans drove up and down. Private truckers with green dancing in their heads collecting fallen trees as MPM (city garbage collection) vehicles were all diverted to cleaning up the main business and industrial areas. Vans from no less than three different cable companies formed a traffic jam on our normally quiet suburban street. In the rural areas residents came out with their chain-saws and machetes to clear roads. Bulldozers stationed close by cleared the Palisadoes and Kingston’s airport was seeing emergency flights on Tuesday and commercial flights by Wednesday. Montego-Bay Airport was back to normal on Tuesday, the North having had less damage. The surfers missed the perfect wave which came in there at 50 feet and buried the airport road as well as washing away Caribbean Terrace yet again. We need to know that God or Mother Nature is telling us that we should not live in places like Caribbean Terrace and Portland Cottage.

By Tuesday most Kingston businesses were opened. Many for half day as they were running on generator and also to allow staff to get home before dark. Supermarkets were open with minimal spoilage as generators had kept refrigeration going, and fresh bread had been delivered. Gas stations were pumping gas by hand into jerry-cans for generators. Banks were announcing that most of their ATMs in Kingston were functioning. Public and private aid organisations were telling people where to go for aid. Food for the Poor were on their way to Portland Cottage, that unfortunate area which had drowned in Ivan and was now half blown away. And, now the shocker, Insurance Companies were instructing their clients how to fill out claim forms.  The Prime Minister announced a stipend for those on poor relief and pensioners. Only three cases of looting were reported to the police.

By Thursday most metropolitan areas, and half of the Island overall, were back on power, as promised. Water treatment plants and pumps were mostly up. Grocery shopping on Friday showed my local supermarket looking much the same as usual except for empty spaces on the shelves where biscuits and bleach normally are. The fresh fruit and vegetables were there though off course those might dwindle in the next few weeks.

Of course the rural areas will take longer to bring back to normal, utility companies will take care of industrial areas and main population areas first and those areas where thousands of yards of damaged wires or pipes or cables serve only a few hundred people will unfortunately be left for last. There were two great tragedies where the power of the wind cast missiles into homes and killed a young girl in St Thomas and a housewife in Clarendon. I don’t think it could have been any worse for their families. But for most of Jamaica it really could have been worse. And if global warming is going to send us hurricanes every three years instead of every thirty then we surely need to do what we did this last week-end and improve upon it. Man cannot battle nature but we can protect ourselves against it.

Most areas of Kingston and the other cities were back to normal by Saturday night, just a week later. In fact, just in time to turn on their televisions and watch the Miss Jamaica Contest which had been postponed just four days.

Betty S.
31st August 2007

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