By Will Coichy
Just days before, Jamaica glowed. Everywhere you went, the streets were filled with soft music, the mouth-watering smells of food, and the energy deserving of being called the heart of the Caribbean.
Then, it all changed.
In what seemed like seconds, doors of schools once overflowing with children were thrown open with floodwater, filled with dirt and debris. The same ground where millions of natives and tourists alike once stood, now ripped open and gushing with seawater, like a wound made with a serrated knife. The very same beaches where people partied were rendered unrecognisable in an instant.
Hurricane Melissa hit the island as a Category 5, with winds around 185 mph, making it one of the strongest ever to hit the area. Places like St. Elizabeth in the south had its streets clogged by landslides, and entire communities were drowned in mud. Nearly 80% of the Island went dark. Families upon families crowded into tight, underequipped shelters with nothing but soiled, foul-smelling clothes, and not even a grain of hope.
Soon after Jamaica, Melissa moved her deadly gaze over to eastern Cuba. Thankfully, nearly one million were evacuated beforehand. Though tons of major structural damage, like collapsed houses, destroyed roads, and ripped power lines, still happened. Not even religious landmarks were left untouched.
And yet, Melissa seemed to be saving her worst for neighboring Haiti. Dozens went missing, and over forty died, most of them children. Ti Gwav, a historic city located in the southern Tiburon Peninsula, was one of the worst hit, suffering unbelievable destruction. Entire blocks were devoured by water that came faster than even the most fit citizens could run. Emergency aid has started arriving, but is staggered, due to ongoing political instability in the country, and a lack of resources.
Yet, something remarkable came out of Jamaica during all of this. You see them, posting videos of waterlogged streets, but you also see kids riding the water on improvised rafts. Friend groups dancing together in the rain, a teen raising his hand in the air at the same time as a large wave, pretending to be controlling the water. This is resilience, this is the people using humor to feel like themselves again, a temporary reprieve from the storm that may have changed their lives forever.
The Caribbean, a well sought after holiday destination, has been fraught with hardship since day one. Everywhere you look, you see tourists having the time of their life, and many residents living in misery, waiting for the perfect opportunity to flee. But, there is something interesting here about these people using humour to lighten this moment. This humour helps them stay grounded, helps them support one another, and helps them work together. In a region of the world constantly battered by disasters, both natural and manmade, maybe this is what makes these people so resilient.