On Nov. 6 (Wednesday), Hurricane Rafael hit central Cuba, and I was there. This is a contemporary account written from Marianao, Havana, four days later, while our electricity was still out.
It’s hard to assess the damage from here because the electricity system as a whole went down; between the damages of Rafael and its recently restored state after a previous hurricane two weeks ago, this was not surprising. The wind and water came from the southeast with tremendous force, as if a whole battery of fire hoses was blasting the walls and windows from that direction. It drove water right through the closed and fastened windows. I got quarts and quarts of water off the floor with a dirty rag and a bucket, but there was still more coming in all the time.
It toppled a lot of trees—some broke and some had less root-hold in the ground than the force of the wind. A tremendous number of branches were also torn off. A lot of power poles and wires were knocked down too.
The next morning was quiet and everyone was out in the street. Clearing and sweeping the sidewalks was the most popular task, which is notable because, if our experience was typical (and why not?) everyone also had a lot of mopping up to do inside.
By Thursday night some areas got their power restored and some more by Friday and Saturday. But this area of Marianao has a lot of trees and suffered a lot of damage. On Saturday, crews worked until midnight, and some tantalizing lights appeared along a different street just a block away, but it was a different circuit.
On Sunday, our lights were still out. All the perishable food that didn’t get eaten had spoiled. We were worried about how much water remained in the rooftop tank, especially because it’s water delivery day (every other day) and the water cannot rise to the tank by itself; it needs to be booster-pumped up.
We’ve been saving water in some of the usual gross ways but trying not to get too gross. But there were trucks and even a bulldozer scooping up the trees and garbage, even though it’s Sunday. We are waiting.
We are waiting for electricity and our phones are dead, and there’s no connection anyway. The refrigerator has been at room temperature for a while and smells bad.
Honestly, it’s no fun at all. But no one died. This is Cuba, the civil defense capital of the world. Everyone at severe risk was evacuated—not “warned to evacuate” but given bus transport and a place to stay (usually in school dorms) and food. Yes, it’s sad watching this on television before the event. People have only what they can carry and face the prospect of losing everything else.
Immediately after the event, the recuperation started. Cuba is in serious condition economically. The tightening of the U.S. blockade and the determined effort of the U.S. government to prevent Cuba from having any sources of income or finance have been diabolically successful. We should be ashamed.
But the crews are here, working hard, clearing debris, restoring posts and lines. And, most important, the people of Cuba are spontaneously clearing up, checking on each other, and collecting bundles of goods for those who have lost their possessions in this and the previous hurricane, Oscar, that hit Guantanamo and other eastern provinces two weeks ago.
All the evil that the governments of the United States have been able to do, over 65 years, has not been able to break these people. Cooperation and human solidarity are deeply ingrained in the Cuban psyche now. Cubans, in this worst moment, feel that they are not isolated and they are not victims. They are together fighting for a better future.
