Trapped by a Cat. 5 Hurricane

The rain was getting worse and behind the large windows that faced the sea, only an abyss of darkness could be seen. «Leave Acapulco, you are not safe there,» my children told me two hours before, but it was already night and it was raining heavily. Too late. After twelve, Javier called me again.

—»Mom, go into a back room,» he urged me. «You are not sizing up what is coming.»

I was in my sister and brother-in-law’s apartment, they had already gone to sleep when I heard the first bang against a window, and I knew that something serious was going to happen.

It was October 25, 2023, a date that will remain engraved in the minds of millions of people and the history of Acapulco.

A normal day.

—»Come to my house, it’s safer here because where you are there could be floods,» my sister Gaby told me, on the afternoon of October 24.

I was washing dishes and wanted to talk to my grandchildren that afternoon as was our once a week custom. It hadn’t occurred to me to move from my house, but my sister’s proposal made me think. Her apartment was located in a high area while I was at sea level, where major floods had occurred due to hurricanes in the past.

What in the morning was a tropical storm that was aiming to make landfall south of Acapulco, had become a hurricane that quickly escalated to Category 4.

I decided to go stay with my sister and Gordon, her husband. It was 4 pm when I arrived at their apartment. Shortly thereafter, which was a few hours, we heard that the hurricane was already a Category 5. What we did not know and no one said was that a cyclone of that magnitude had never before been recorded on this coast.

We were calm but as a precaution, I suggested we should keep our documents and valuables handy. I was carrying a backpack with my passport and some money, but deep down I didn’t think it was necessary.

In the streets some people were on their way home, only disturbed by the constant rain that started in the afternoon. Others were still working or finishing their routine for the day. At some point of the night, we found out that a state of alert was declared. A list of shelters was spread so that people in risk areas could get to safety, in case of serious flooding.

It was then that my children called to tell us to leave Acapulco, but since neither my sister nor I could see well enough to drive at night, let alone in pouring rain, we decided that it was too risky to try to get to Cuernavaca. What worried my children most was that there could be a landslide because the building where my sister lives is on a hill, with a ravine in front and a rock wall behind. On the contrary, we were reassured that the large rocks had remained immovable for centuries, despite hurricanes and earthquakes.

Our optimism or denial of the real risk, I don’t know which perhaps a mixture of both, kept us calm, so much that when my sister and her husband went to sleep, I saw that she had left her hand bag in the living room without any concern.

It was clear that we had no idea what awaited us.

Four months before.

I moved to Acapulco in July 2023, from Ajijic, Jalisco, a picturesque town on the shore of Lake Chapala where I had lived for a year. Originally from Mexico City, I was pursuing my dream of moving to a natural, quieter environment. So, once my four kids became adults and left home to start their independent lives, it was time for me to leave the city where I was born, raised, and had lived my entire life. So, I said good-bye to the great metropolis full of contrasts, with its rich history, its irresistible attraction and at the same time all the problems inherent to an overpopulated city

I fell in love with Ajijic, its mountains and the lake, with the charm of its cobbled stone streets and the offer of restaurants and cultural events that give the town a special touch. I enjoyed the spectacular sunsets, being able to ride my bike, take photographs and go dancing to the many places with live music. However, I missed my four kids and two grandsons very much and I decided to move to Acapulco, which is much closer to Mexico City and to my family. A good opportunity came up to rent a nice furnished apartment on very favorable terms. I thought it was a good sign, so I packed and stored my furniture and all my household in Ajijic, and moved to what had always been one of my family’s favorite places for weekend’s getaways and vacations, Acapulco. My sister Gaby already lived there and my children could visit me more often.

I arrived at my new home, an apartment with a terrace that overlooked a garden in a gated community which had all the amenities, including a restaurant. There I could swim, ride my bike, go to the gym, or to the beach club. The location was ideal, near to a shopping center, a supermarket, restaurants and all kinds of shops.

It is easy for me to find the uniqueness of every place. I am able to see its positive traits and make them my home. So I was also very happy in Acapulco. If someone had told me then that from one day to the next I was going to have to leave my house and my things, that my quiet life by the sea was going to be abruptly interrupted, I would not have believed it. And yet, it happened.

This is the story.

The shelter.

Suddenly, Otis revealed his true bully face and hit the coast of Acapulco with enormous force, like no other hurricane ever before. It was initially estimated that it would make landfall south of the port in the early morning hours. However, it had accelerated its advance and changed its trajectory heading further north, directly to the center of Acapulco.

My son, Javier who was following the progress of the cyclone in real time, called me again at midnight. He warned me that it was going to hit at any moment and that we had to take refuge in an interior room without windows.

—»The wind is much louder,» I told him.

—“Get in the bathroom now” was the last I heard and just at that moment something crashed hard against a glass.

I hung up. Immediately my sister, my brother-in-law and I grabbed some yoga mats, several cushions, and a couple of flashlights. We didn’t have time to do anything else before going into the bathroom. We got to see a window shake and with a resounding crack, fly away complete with frame. We ran to lock ourselves in. It was 12:20AM

Five minutes later, it seemed like the end of the world! It sounded like everything around us was collapsing, and we wondered if the large picture windows would withstand the onslaught. We soon deduced that they did not, because the wind reached our door, shaking it furiously, like a tyrant who, was not content with taking over the entire space, slamming objects against the floor and the walls, also intended to take over our shelter.

Behind the door, my sister Gaby, Gordon, and I crouched down, could not believe what was happening. They pressed their feet against the bathroom door—where glass, wood, and iron were crashing—to make sure that the wind wouldn’t knock it down.

The bathroom where we took shelter was the place that seemed least exposed. We could feel the changes in pressure produced by the wind in our ears and the thunderous blows made me look at the ceiling wondering if it was going to hold up.

Suddenly, a more thunderous roar than the previous ones shook us. We looked at each other with wide eyes, without even speaking, in a state of shock. It sounded as if the roof had collapsed. Then I started praying out loud and my sister joined in. I remembered that we had not prayed together since my mother died four years earlier. Her image came to my mind, her sweet and sorrowful expression during her last days. With a heart tight with distress I asked her to give us her blessing and take care of us.

The Eye of the Hurricane.

As Gordon described it, the noise was such that it seemed like a locomotive was passing overhead, hissing and roaring at full speed.

Water was coming in under the door, which meant everything outside was flooded. Gaby and I looked at each other again with tears in our eyes. Soon we were sitting in a small lagoon. I felt extremely tired, with every muscle in my body stretched in tension. Consciously, I started inhaling and exhaling to try to relax my sore muscles. My sister’s back was also hurting from keeping her feet pressed against the door, but she didn’t let me do it myself.

The night seemed endless. We prayed several times and I told a silly tale that I had written for my grandchildren a long time ago and that Gaby illustrated with her drawings. When my throat closed with despair or anxiety, I took deep breaths and focused my attention on inhaling and exhaling. Anything that could distract us from the continuous roar of the wind, the blows, and the thunders.

Suddenly, there was silence and calm, as if pausing a recording, which kept us in suspense, hoping that everything was over, but terrified to be in the eye of the hurricane. That area at the center of the spiral where it is calm, but has the most intense winds on its perimeter. So every time the roar restarted with greatest violence, we knew that we were in the eye and it was moving.

For brief moments the possibility of not seeing my children and grandchildren again hurt like something stuck in my heart. I pushed the thought out of my mind and the feeling of unreality returned stating that what was happening could not be happening. Four hours passed like this, with contained crying, suppressed fear, choked screams, sometimes laughing, and other times just breathing, until finally the pauses became longer and the intensity began to decrease.

In one of those pauses, we quietly opened the bathroom door and peered into the darkness. I immediately felt the wind on my face and the sound of rain came to me. We first illuminated the floor full of broken glass and the doors of a closet thrown in the hallway, then pointed to the front where the windows should have been, but it was too dark, so we could not see much and we no longer had the strength to react. I stepped out carefully to explore the other bathroom, which was smaller but dry because it was one step higher and we moved into it. Gaby took out sheets and towels to lay on the floor as beds. Then she took a sleeping pill, gave one each to Gordon and me, and we laid down on the floor. It was around 4.30AM..

I barely slept at times, and the first light of day found me awake, restless and uncomfortable. I got up eager to see and know how everything was. In the next bedroom, the window lay broken, complete with frame. The entire floor was flooded and a lot of objects were scattered everywhere. To pass through the hallway full of debris and about two centimeters deep in water, I put a wooden door that was lying there as a deck to avoid walking on the rubble nor getting wet. Gaby had already gotten up and was coming after me taking cautious steps. Where the door plank ended I placed another similar door and walked through on it until we reached the living room.

When I looked up I couldn’t believe what was before me. We stood frozen watching the total destruction of the apartment. We were speechless, one more time, stunned by shock. Gordon was already coming towards us and his jaw dropped. I still remember his expression like it was yesterday.

Large pieces of the ceiling had fallen everywhere, the glass windows had all collapsed and were completely shattered; the furniture, some pieces overturned, others broken, and all had been blown by the wind to the edge of the windows. A chair hung suspended through the gap where there had been glass.

The only thing my sister said was that she didn’t have insurance and that it was a total loss.

—“I don’t think it will be worth rebuilding this; I’m going to end up selling it and losing a lot of money.” That was all she said. I wanted to hug her but I was afraid of breaking down, so I just held her hand squeezing it. She let go of my hand. I knew she didn’t want to break down either.

The state of shock prevented us from feeling, blocking the emotional reaction that would overwhelm us. To think only about the next step, the next moment, that was the game to silence the inner voice that kept repeating to us that we could not recover from. It said we were saved from dying but the mere fact of surviving would not give us back our past life. Acapulco is over, the voice said.

Isolated

After the fear of dying, the hardest thing was not being able to communicate with my children to let them know that we were fine. There was no cell phone signal, nor did the landline phone work, and of course, there was no electricity or water. We went outside the building to see the damage and found that the exit to the subdivision was blocked in several places by large branches. Even if there was a way to jump over it, my brother-in-law, Gordon, due to his health condition, would not have been able to do it. Our cars had both the windshields broken by the tiles that fell from the roof, so even if there was a path, we couldn’t get out by car.

—“Let’s see what we have to eat and how much water there is,” I told Gaby. In the destroyed kitchen the only thing we found was cheese, yogurt, apples and nuts. And to top it off, we barely had three liters of water to drink. We began to ration water because it didn’t look like help would come fast so we would not get out of there soon. We realized that the nightmare continued. We were totally cut off and isolated.

From the windows now without glass, one could see a desolate landscape of trunks and branches without foliage. Many trees had fallen, and in the background a turbulent gray sea, seemed inhospitable and musty to me.

We were just standing, kind of paralyzed looking into the distance in a “I can’t believe it” mode, when there was a knock at the door. It was the neighbors who rented the apartment below.

—»Everyone is fine?» was the first thing they said. We almost cried with emotion when we saw that we were not the only ones trapped in our building. They were a young couple who had been able to go out and walk down to the road. Although they couldn’t get far, they found out that there was no communication, most of the telephone and electricity towers were down or damaged. Both in the Diamante area and the old part looked like a war zone. The situation was chaotic and the entire city of Acapulco was isolated.

For now we had to wait and, as always, in stressful situations, I focused on taking care of something immediately, getting busy with what I could do. I took on the task of organizing the space to circulate and habilitate a place where we could sit and eat. The food inventory was scarce, but what was abundant was wine. With that I had enough to make jokes about Gaby’s priorities. The laughter undoubtedly revived us and we started bustling around taking debris out of the way. We swept, cleaned, shoveled, carried muddy water from the pool for the bathrooms, and collected as many liters from the flooded floor. We worked non-stop until the sun began to go down.

That second night the neighbors offered us a bedroom in their house that had not been damaged. This meant sleeping in beds instead of the bathroom floor. So we went down to their apartment where we shared our apple and cheese menu with them and then we fell exhausted into bed.

— “What I would give for a cup of coffee”, Gaby said the next morning. We missed morning coffee when we woke up and just like that habit and the daily bath, all daily rituals were suspended. For two days, we dedicated ourselves to trying to improve our space, organize it and make it as comfortable as possible.

The situation would not improve soon. We were shipwrecked in the rubble of the apartment. I was aware that we could not continue waiting for help to arrive, we had to create a plan B to get out of there by our own means. What stopped us was my brother-in-law’s health condition due to his diminished vision and his very precarious walking due to his Parkinson’s disease.

On the third day, everything changed.

The Rescue.

After 24 hours my four children started looking for us. They spread our photos on the networks, they investigated with contacts and María, my daughter, set out on the second day in the afternoon to Acapulco determined to find us.

When she arrived at night, accompanied by a friend, she had to jump over fallen trees to climb in the dark up the steep road to our building at the top of the driveway. When she made it to the apartment she found it empty. We were sleeping just one floor down at the neighbors’ house and we didn’t hear anything.

Early the next morning I woke up restless because I had dreamed that María was crying and calling me, so shortly before dawn I went up to the apartment. When I entered the bathroom where we had taken refuge, I found a message from my daughter written in lipstick on the mirror. It said that she would continue looking for us in the shelters and that we should try to reach the naval base. I cried out of helplessness imagining the anguish she must have felt. Irt tortured me to know that she had been there looking for us in the middle of the rubble, calling me in despair and then touring the shelters and hospitals without finding us.

—“I have to make it to the naval base somehow to contact María”, I told Gaby. My sister could see how desperate I was, that decided we should go together. We left Gordon there asking him not to move.

My dear brother-in-law, my adopted brother because in addition to his relationship with my sister, we were “two of a kind” and very empathetic with each other. He, with his ingenious ideas, and his rather silent presence, despite his limitations, was a great comfort to us.

So we left him and set off with a clear mission: to contact María or anyone else we could get through and ask for help to get Gordon out of the place. Half an hour later, with scratches and scrapes, we managed to jump over the obstacles blocking access and reached the main highway. We saw an army truck and asked if they could take us to the naval base, but they were going the other way. Finally a car stopped and gave us a lift.

We spent almost an hour asking and waiting without being able to hear anything from María or communicate with anyone. There was no mobile signal. Dejected, I sat on the curb under the relentless sun, wanting to scream out of frustration and helplessness.

The place was full of rescuers and Gaby was talking to one of them. We explained my brother-in-law’s situation to him and he must have seen how desperate we were that he went to talk to his boss to get his authorization. Finally, off we went with two firefighters in one truck and four others in the second truck, back to the apartment to get Gordon out of there. Once we arrived, in a matter of minutes they had him on a stretcher well strapped, and four men were ready to carry him down the steep debris strewn driveway. I saw he was nervous, so I approached him and said:

—“For a national water ski champion, this is a piece of cake, Gordie. You enjoy the ride.” At least he smiled, knowing my habit of making silly jokes. They lowered him down without any problems all the way, while Gaby and I followed the firefighters, carrying everything we could. These firefighters were angels who even gave us a ride to my apartment where we would regroup and take the next step.

On the way, the cell phones suddenly got a signal, the driver stopped the truck for a moment and I immediately dialed María. As soon as I heard her voice the lump in my throat didn’t allow me to speak.

—“Mommy, mommy, finally! I looked for you everywhere… and I had to return to Mexico, without knowing anything about you, dying of worry and fear…» she said amidst sobs. She told me that her brothers Javier and Fernando were already on their way to Acapulco to evacuate us. I felt as if my soul came back to my body, such a relief, such joy and such gratefulness.

When I opened my whatsapp I found hundreds of messages. We were certainly surprised by how many dear people, family and friends had been there, praying for us.

When we arrived at my place, we were struck by the desolate landscape of fallen palm trees everywhere, the gardens dotted with debris, and my apartment full of mud. Eusebio, the security guard at my building, was there. It was so soothing to be welcomed by a familiar and friendly face, and immediately asked him about his family. His expression darkened as he told me that he had lost his house, but he and his wife took refuge with a neighbor and were fine.

—“We have to start over, what else can we do?” he told me in a broken voice with the ancestral resignation of people who are victims of marginalization, that no matter how much they fight, they cannot overcome poverty. I hugged him in silence and then watched him walk away, his figure hunched over by the weight of life.

I became aware of the intensity of the emotions on that particular day, but didn’t stop to analyze anything, So I went to action! We had to mop, clean and pick–up things again. We did it in automatic mode as our occupational therapy to not think about the losses. Moving and concentrating on the work kept us from thinking beyond.

Farewell to Acapulco.

Through the fog in my mind, I remember going out of the apartment to explore the common areas and discovering the pool full of water, with the bottom covered in dirt but quite clear on the surface.

—“It doesn’t look that murky, does it? We have to get in,” I said. “Even if it’s just on the steps to get wet and cool off.”

We saw that there were no guards or other personnel to stop us, so we put on our swimsuits and Gaby brought soap and shampoo to have an express bath. It was a delightful treat to soak in the freshness of the water after three days of sweating and using wet wipes to clean ourselves. Once bathed, fresh, and wearing clean clothes, we took a break to relax a little. When the body relaxed, we would feel a mixture of relief, impotent anger sinking in a sea of sadness with the dubious feeling of triumph for the simple fact of being alive kept us afloat.

We sat down to eat something and have a glass of wine while we waited for my children to arrive. Suddenly I looked to the garden and there they came, Fernando and Javier, who at that moment for me were gallant and brave heroes who came to our aid. They only needed the sword and the horse. When they entered they started laughing.

—»What? We came to rescue you and you are snacking and drinking wine?”—

In a second I was hugging them with emotion stuck in my throat. I felt overwhelmed with love and pride realizing that their dad and I did something good to have two daughters and two sons with the hearts of warriors.

They came in my daughter Adriana’s van, a huge Chevrolet that was loaded with bottles of water, food, and even changes of clothes for us. They also brought shovels, and other tools, as well as gasoline, anticipating that the supply in Acapulco would be restricted.

After greetings, we prepared to leave as soon as possible to avoid traveling at night and we could only take what was essential and valuable. The rush increased my mental haze, so I couldn’t think clearly and ended up erratically packing what I could, of course forgetting many things.

We left for Mexico city, leaving the sad scene of what was the beautiful port, now an Acapulco in pieces not only physically, but socially and morally, with the streets full of people who wandered like zombies without a destination, and many others who dedicated themselves to looting the stores.

And the sea and the sky, as blue as if nothing had happened, gave us a spectacular sunset that increased the sadness and pain of the tragedy and the farewell.

This was the end of a chapter that, like all of them, was also a new beginning, a time to rebuild and redefine our life, but first, we would return to Acapulco sooner than we imagined.

After Otis

The reconstruction and recovery of Acapulco will take time. The number of victims is not known exactly, the data that could be closest to reality is the 300 deaths reported by funeral agencies. To this figure, we would have to add a few dozen missing people who were never found.

While the reconstruction takes place, millions of people are waiting to be able to go back to their favorite vacation place. Like me, they have unforgettable memories related to Acapulco: having fun on the beach, walking and shopping along Costera Avenue, eating in restaurants of all tastes and budgets and enjoying a dancing night. Its atmosphere and its people attracted and welcomed all types of tourists, national and foreign, from the popular area of Caleta and Pié de la Cuesta, to the exclusive Princess Hotel and the entire Diamante zone.

The big question on everyone’s mind is whether Acapulco will be able to recover. Will it emerge from the rubble like the phoenix from the ashes, with new strength to once again take its place in the country and in the world.

I wondered what was next for me. Looking back, I realize the end of the story could have been not living to tell it. So what I know for sure, is I don’t want to postpone important things, especially in regard to relationships and being close to my dear ones.

At first, when the cyclone still didn’t seem so threatening, I even thought that it could be an interesting experience to witness the spectacular force of nature, that the large windows would be like a panoramic screen where we could appreciate the intensity of the rain, the power of the wind and the rough sea.

But hurricane Otis turned out to be like a sadistic monster that destroyed everything in its path. It changed the name of the movie from “The Wonder of Nature” to “The deadly storm”. Just after making landfall it stopped its rapid advance, and parked itself for hours as if its mission were to destroy Acapulco. It mercilessly lashed the entire coastline and the highlands in all directions for more than three hours. After that, it dissolved.

The future is not clear, the only certainty is in the present moment. I am particularly grateful for my family. How fortunate I was to have their support and friends who have always been there for me.

A hurricane, or any catastrophic event, can destroy everything around us, but not the positive thoughts, nor the focus on what we have. The three of us, my sister Gabriela, my brother in law Gordon, and I, will always be bonded by this ordeal. We cried, prayed and fought together and will never forget what we shared those three days.

Now it was my time for us just to be patient and wait, while the panorama of the reconstruction of our own lives became clearer.

The threshold of tolerance for uncertainty had to be stretched, while the panorama of rebuilding my own life became clearer. Waiting for things to fall into place on their own –I was becoming an expert at that–, and those that didn’t, the time would come to deal with them.

The return

I closed my eyes for a moment, opened them again and there it was still. The devastated landscape looked as if it had been the target of a bombing. It had been two weeks since we left Acapulco and we were back.

My sister and I needed to recover our cars which we had left behind because they had broken wind chills. I also needed to see by myself the situation in Acapulco to decide if it was an option to go back to live there again.

On the main avenue of Acapulco Diamante, there were piles of rubble everywhere and buildings that looked like giant ghosts with big mouths and black eyes. I imagined what the marginal colonies would be like, where poverty in itself is rampant. Acapulco and its people hurt me.

With a pit in my stomach I arrived at the gated community where I had lived. There I was greeted by familiar faces, the security staff, and the receptionists. Carlos the gardener was busy collecting coconuts that fell with palm trees and all.. Many people were working on the cleaning of the common areas, picking up debris and making piles of the different materials.

In my apartment the damage had been minimal, there was only one broken window and still some traces of mud. The place had been cleaned the day before and was habitable enough for the three of us, Gaby, Gordon and I, to stay there for some time. My sister needed to clean up the rubble from their apartment to start reconstructing it. I helped her in the process of recovering what could be saved, throwing away what was useless and storing the rest. At the same time I was trying to find a place to get my car fixed, which was complicated without a steady internet signal and without cell phone communication. I needed to decide how long to stay there or if I should pack my things to vacate the apartment.

Despite my optimism, despite the fact that my apartment suffered minimal damage and the obvious effort to rebuild the whole place, reality hit me.

The conditions were precarious. In my apartment there was no Wi-Fi, the cell phone signal was very poor, the air conditioning didn’t work, and the amenities were still impossible to use. The general picture was even worse: the heat had intensified because of the lack of folliage, stagnant water was infested by mosquitoes and there were sanitary risks. The social situation was also deteriorating fast because so many people had lost their house, and their work, and that would soon have an impact on insecurity

As the future of thousands of people had been overshadowed or destroyed, I faced the fact that my dream of living by the sea and near my kids ended up buried under the rubble of Acapulco. Looking at the battered palm trees in front of my terrace, I couldn’t help but to feel beaten, worn out.

The onslaught of a hurricane that almost wiped Acapulco off the map left its mark on my life and that of thousands of people. It became a reference point from which both personal history and that of Acapulco can be divided into before and after Otis.

The experience had confronted me to the possibility of dying right there, being buried under the rubble, and the end of the story. It was a reminder of human mortality, a raw proof of our physical fragility that was clear in my mind but for the first time, I felt it in my gut. Fortunately, I survived to share this journey, which had to do with the discovery of one’s strengths and fears; the flesh-and-bone experience of life’s finitude; and the thoughts and emotions that can manifest during a catastrophe like this.

End and beginning

Pack the last things, close suitcases, load my car that will carry the luggage, some boxes and even the computer I had brought with me the five times I moved in the last three years. We’ll soon be ready to depart.

Sitting on the terrace for the last time, I had my morning coffee with a taste of nostalgia, like the last walk the previous afternoon. Observing the battered palm trees one more time, a new meaning arose in my mind. Just like them that had resisted the onslaught, I was also standing on my feet and was ready to let go of my dream of living in Acapulco like dust in the wind.

I felt the breeze gently moving the leaves of the palm trees and then with a whisper in my ear, the wind spoke and said I could always have a new dream.