Puerto Rico Earthquake Tourist Update

PART 1: For Puerto Ricans Living in the States

Over years of writing blogs and working with people I have always taken great pride in responding to every comment and email and call. With over 100,000 readers here in the last few days, dozens of comments here, hundreds on FB pages, and hundreds of emails, please, please forgive me if yours has been lost in the shuffle. If you feel it is important and I missed it, please send it to me again at buzzdmalone@gmail.com and I will try to get back to you as soon as humanly possible.

Before I begin to publicly address some of the issues and comments raised I want to say a few words about the earthquakes here out of recognition, based on emails, that the vast majority of new readers are Puerto Ricans living elsewhere, worried and desperately seeking anything from back home they can get their hands on. 

For you, I want you to know that this is not Maria. The island is not incapacitated. No one is waiting helplessly for a federal government that may never respond. Your people here are in good hands in their fellow Puerto Ricans. Just as your heart pours out to the island now, the roads from every community pour into the small affected area with goods and services of every imaginable kind. I cannot stress this enough. Pray, and lobby, but rest easy. Your relatives here are being cared for right now by people who know how to provide it because almost every caregiver lived through Maria. 

photos courtesy of Ramonita M Leandry FB Page

I am not saying every community is sending aid. I am saying every neighborhood is doing it. The line of cars stretches for miles and people from all over the island wait for hours only to drop off supplies. Nurses and doctors set up makeshift care facilities. Restaurant owners are cooking giant meals. Hair stylists are washing hair outside. Veterinarians and pet groomers are caring for animals. Entertainment of all sorts is being provided, and of course, as always, there is music in the streets. 

Some people are afraid. Some people are shaken up. Some people will experience a PTSD from so many quakes happening in such a short amount of time. They will rightfully need emotional care. 

But also remember this is Puerto Rico! Do not fill your head with bad thoughts of everyone being ruined by this. They are strong and resilient and for every person who is in fear, there are also tables full of old people sitting around playing dominoes, who only raise their coffees when the earth begins to tremble, and steady their dominoes with a free hand until it passes. Their greatest fear is spilling on the game table and leaving a stain on the score sheet. They will scan their surrounding when it stops, and if nothing is amiss, they will continue their game as if nothing has happened. 

If I assume that the majority of the 100,000+ new readers of this blog are Puerto Ricans living in the States as most of you seem to be based on comments and emails, then I would say this. The administration continues to withhold $8.3 Billion in congressional approved aid to Puerto Rico in the form of hurricane readiness monies to HUD. This money would directly benefit the people right now. Housing and infrastructure repair is the one long-term thing that the island will need to recover. 

There needs to be another earthquake and it needs to happen in the offices of every US Senator and Congress person in America from the shoes of Puerto Ricans and their supporters, demanding that the administration release these funds immediately. If a silly blog can get over 100,000 readers wanting to know what they can do to help, then I am saying here is your chance. Your people back home in PR are taken care of in the here and now. They need the government to do its part though for long term aid, and that is how you can help most. 

You can start by calling your congressional delegation. The switchboard in Washington DC will be able to put you in contact with your US Representative, and your two (2) US Senators, so you have at least 3 angry calls to make.

US Congressional Switchboard# 202-224-3121

Next, is to reach out to other Puerto Ricans in your state. Trust me, we have heard from a dozen living in our home state of Iowa and there are few whiter places on earth, so if there are a number of Puerto Ricans there, there are Puerto Ricans everywhere. Use social media to find one another or ask unemployed activists (like yours truly) to help. 

When you have half a dozen or more people willing to start marching into their Congressional offices, you have a political army. That is what it will take too. No elected official in Fargo, North Dakota, or Billings, Wyoming, is going to give a shit about the suffering of the people of Ponce until you force them to.

Part 2: For Everyone Else Who Wants to Help Puerto Rico

I will no doubt get some negative feedback about this or people saying I should direct people to give to this or that. So, I will preface by saying that everything in this here blog represents only my OPINION. 

That having been said, I would say to everyone in the world that if they have an interest in helping Puerto Rico, then they should immediately and without hesitation, book their next vacation here. Because, outside of a very small area, the island is completely open for business. Even the Bioluminescent Bay in nearby Lajas has continued to allow visitors the opportunity to swim among the stars of the ocean, with food and drink in businesses served by backup power. 

The absolute worst thing that could happen right now is for people to cancel plans or not come here. That creates an economic ripple effect. The only reason that the people can take such good care of one another right now is that the rest of the island continues to operate and function normally. Like the wait staff at one of our restaurants last weekend who had pooled their tip moneys and were eager to end their shift and head south with supplies for the earthquake victims, the cycle of self help depends upon the rest of the island's businesses humming.

So, the people and businesses of Rincon, San Juan, El Yunque, and everywhere in between want to let you know that the island is up and running! The lights are on and a warm beach and cold drink are waiting for you. NO PASSPORT NEEDED for AMERICANS! It's part of the US!

Finally, we have received HUNDREDS of communications and so many were simply blessings and well wishes from Puerto Ricans here and around the globe. Let us begin by saying our hearts have been moved beyond words by you all. A million blessings in return.

Your outpouring is an example of why we love Puerto Rico so much, and in one form or another, we have always been blessed to receive such a welcome from someone everywhere we have ever been on the island. We feel your love, and we radiate it back out into the universe. 

I wanted to publicly address just a few of the comments here that stood out, or represented trends or the like...

1. From my new friend Jorge, Puerto Rico is NOT an island nation. It is a Commonwealth of the United States.   In fact, it is indistinguishable from a state in your day to day living- except for the language, but you have that in Florida with Miami and Orlando, and throughout the Southwest.  To combat the constant misconceptions about Puerto Rico on the Mainland, it is important to accurately and consistently identify it as the United States any chance we get. We are not an island nation; we are the United States.

Jorge made an excellent point. And since we started this blog to basically educate our people back in the states why we love Puerto Rico so much, we should always remember to try be and consistent about that. I guess the poet in me gets carried away and I just like the sound of "island nation." But it is the United States, and you do not need a passport to come here.

2. About God and Curses and Clickbait. Enough people (like half a dozen) took the time to write to say they were upset about the blog title or the insinuation that the island was cursed, that I wanted to say something. I do not believe the island is cursed by God or anyone else. The point was that if you don't know Puerto Rico or Puerto Ricans, it would be easy to make that assumption based on any number of bad news headlines. 

I apologize to the people this offended. My intention was always to say that the people here are amazing and blessed and generous and caring no matter what the headlines say, or what might befall the island. 

It was also said a few times that I used a catchy headline as clickbait to get more readers. Guilty. That is how headlines work. And since at last count it has resulted in like 125,000 new readers, I doubt I will learn any lasting lessons regarding the negative impact of sensationalism. Also... not making a dime from the blog. 

3. My use of "these people" means I am a racist. If you walk through life looking to be offended, you will be. There is enough evil and racism to fight in the world without choosing battles where there isn't one. 

When I am not an unemployed blog and novel writer, I have spent the bulk of my career as a labor union organizer and civil rights activist. I have very much lived my life by the words of Eugene Debs that state "while there is a lower class I am in it, while there is a criminal element I am of it, and while there is a soul in prison, I am not free." 

Meaning that if I separate myself from a group of people as I did by using "these people," it is only because I aim to say that I feel unworthy of being included in the group. I am only a tourist here because I honestly don't know if I would climb from the rubble of my own home and have my first thought be about my neighbors. I do know, however, from having witnessed many acts of selfless heroism, that my wife, Lorri, would always be the first to dive into a stranger's burning home, or overturned car (seen it) and offer a nurse's aid. 

I am deeply moved by the people here. "These people" inspire me every day. 

4. I am a Capitalist Living the High Life of an Imperialist Colonizer. Lol. Love this. So many big words. If you follow social media closely, you might believe you would hear this kind of stuff frequently on the island. Truth is, I have yet to ever hear anything like it outside of FB, or a few emails. Sort of reminds me of some of my friends back home with their little red Trump hats and angry laptops though. 

Again, Lorri's career was in training and quality at a non-profit blood center serving hospitals. Mine was in labor and civil rights. Neither career exactly pushed us to the upper echelon of capitalist societal elite. We bought art to support local artists on installment plans. We gave to charities and causes until our bank accounts begged for mercy or over drafted. 

We began vacationing in Puerto Rico many years ago because it was affordable. We kept coming back because we loved the people. When our youngest went off to college, we decided to move here for a while. We are too poor to retire forever. It just seemed like a great place to spend some time so I could write and Lorri and could pursue her passion for creating art in wood, while we figured out what we were going to be when we grew up... again. Our being here this winter is sort of what happens when adult children leave their parents unsupervised. We sold our home and most belongings in Iowa and came here in October. 

The fact is, if we stay here, we would probably be flat broke by August. We wanted to join the capitalist colonialization and exploitation of the island's resources for fun and profit and amassing of private fortunes but turns out we were sick that day. 

 5. Blessings. We cannot begin to tell you all how much your words have meant to us. The outpouring of blessings and love and kindness have moved us to our very core. We have never felt so blessed. A million times over, thank you all. THIS is what we love about the island and the people here. To an extent, this is the way we have always been made to feel here. Welcome, loved, special, blessed, cared about. Familia. 

That is the Puerto Rico we know and the one we love, and we will take it with us always, and swear to do our best to spread that love to strangers, regardless of color or country or language, in all of our travels no matter where we go... just like so many Puerto Ricans have done for us here so many times. 

All of our love.

Buzz and Lorri Malone

buzzdmalone@gmail.com

Puerto Rico: Tourists on God's Cursed Island?

Lorri and our daughter Reagan on break from the University of Iowa

January is supposed to be a "safe" month in Puerto Rico. The potential dangers of hurricane season loom in the rearview mirror of the recent past, and a collective sigh of relief is exhaled on the island as the post Christmas tourists and snow birds arrive en mass from the States to enjoy the warm weather and relax on the beaches. 

We had heard there had been mild rumblings around the island, but hearing about seismic activity when you can't feel it is like having drinks at an ocean bar and not being able to taste the rum. It is almost meaningless until you get one with some kick that you can taste for yourself. 

In the days leading up to the big one, we heard about more and more quakes. The day before, there was a large one that was assumed to be the peak of all the activity. We read there had been over a thousand quakes detected by seismologists in recent days. But, not having felt anything, and never having experienced anything of the sort, we went to bed same as always without really giving it much thought.  

At shortly after 4:20am, I awoke to the bed shaking violently. Not simply moving back and forth, but as if several strong men had hold of the corners and were shoving it back and forth as hard and fast as they possibly could. It actually took me a second lying there to realize what was happening. It was the loud, low rumbling of the entire earth that alerted my half awakened mind to what it was. 

The noise is difficult to describe. Not because it is so loud. Or because it is so unique. It is neither of those things in and of itself. It is low, as if you were sitting very near a passing train, or the heavy sort of low rumbling sound you might get from the roar of a passing tornado when you're huddled in a basement in Iowa, except not nearly as loud. But... the difference is... this low rumbling was everywhere all at once. It were as if the entire earth were submerged in water screaming at the top of her lungs, overpoweringly loud, and yet strangely quiet above ground, all at the same moment, as only the echoes of the rumbles betrayed the silence of the perfect night sky.    

Overwhelmed by the sound of it, I nearly forgot that the earth was moving beneath my feet. It was really only when we met up with Reagan and ran outside and I had turned back to see the chandelier that I "remembered" it. It looked as if we were upon a ship in heavy seas, and another wave might knock it up into the ceiling and bust a light. 

As curiously and unceremoniously as it had arrived, it stopped, and the rumbling sound simply faded until the night was completely silent. Unsure quite what to expect next, we sat outside and watched as the line of cars drove by our house up from the coast in the next few minutes. They were fleeing the potential tsunami wave that might follow such earthly rumblings, up into the hills beyond our house. Even as it was just ceasing to rumble, the headlights were rounding the bend. It took us a few minutes and a few dozen cars to figure out what they were all doing, but we are on high ground, so eventually we went back inside. 

Believe it or not, we felt nothing else, and surprisingly (or foolishly), managed to get back to sleep. That's the thing about earthquakes. You simply cannot know what to do. You can get one in five minutes, or five hundred years. No one really knows. We were awoken again after 7am by the larger one. We were out of bed and out the door much faster that time. 

Pictures stolen from the internet. We have no damage and won't be looky loos.

After that the island lost power. Much of the island lost water as well. We ventured out that morning to find lines at the gas stations and ATMs. Grocery stores were either closed while they put everything back on their shelves, or had lines outside of them and only allowing a few customers in at a time to avoid runs and/or riots we guessed. 

Here in Rincon we had electricity back on in about 24 hours (probably because there are a lot of tourists and snow bunnies here and people from the states don't spend money when the power is out). Talking to friends in other places, no one else we know has electricity yet. 

Additionally, our rental house has solar power and a Tesla battery, that our spoiled, stupid American asses still managed to run dry before morning during our one night without power by running every conceivable device, even including intermittent air conditioning, while our neighbors an hour to the south slept outside on mattresses beneath the stars because they were too afraid to back inside their homes while the earth was still rumbling.  

Before you judge us too harshly, we had checked with all of our friends and neighbors and offered shelter and assistance and everyone is fine. We had offered the same to our friends who were sleeping outside or in their car to the south. I share it not out of self loathing, but to make the point that we really are just tourists here on what so many American from the States would assume to be an island cursed by God. 

If you had never been here it would certainly seem to be just that too. Even before the hurricane, there was poverty. Opportunity of almost any kind is such a scarcity here that is traded by power brokers like a commodity or precious metal. Old wooden houses were destroyed or deemed useless by the hurricane, and old concrete houses have been destroyed or deemed useless by the earthquake. 

Most of the island remains without electricity and running water, and no one can say within a day or a month when it will be restored or for how long. Hundreds still sleep outside on the ground or in their cars. Any one of these things could be seen as a curse from God by Americans in the States to our daily lives. Any single one. And no real relief is in sight for these people. 

But here is the thing about Puerto Ricans. Amidst it all, they do not despair. Outside beneath the stars neighbors talk to one another and care for each other. They never stop smiling or laughing. 

There will be want and hunger to be certain as there always is. But there will also be pots with extra beans and rice for sharing, and neighbors who cook too much pork. The poorest churches will be crowded with families adorned in their finest clothes. 

A hundred times over today and tonight, and every day and night, whenever and wherever any two men pass each other carrying instruments, they will stop, and begin to play, and people will start to gather and more musicians will hear the music and come from their houses to join them. The old people with the moonshine stills hidden in the backyards will come with their jars and bottles, and grandparents will dance beneath the stars like they were teenagers again, dancing together for their very first time. They will know no strangers. 

Though their roof may blow away, and their house may flood, and the entire thing collapse atop their car in an earthquake, they will emerge from the rubble, and even before they lament and feel sorry for themselves, they will go to check on their neighbors and see how they are. With nothing but the clothes upon their backs, they count every sunset and sunrise on the ocean, and every night beneath the stars as a blessing. No day is too grim to forego music, art and dance, and there is always cause to celebrate something.

God has not cursed these people. He is in them, and we are only tourists here for a little while.