Ooooooooooooooooooohh yeah. Uh, right. So that post I wrote a little more than a week ago about not being worried about Ike and the minimal chance that he would hit Houston? Scratch that. And let me tell you what it was like to get through my first hurricane.
Thursday, Sept. 10. Ike was confirmed to hit near us but we still weren't 100% sure it would hit Galveston. We were ordered to stay put but to get our water, food, gas, and all that jazz ready. I went to the Kroger mid-afternoon and wow, it left me speechless and honestly, if I wasn't afraid before, I was definitely afraid after. There was no bread. I had to buy hamburger buns. No tuna or canned meat of any type. No water. Little to no produce. Can you imagine? I bought a couple 2-liters of ginger ale, a bottle of wine, some more canned ravioli and spaghetti O's, a can of pineapple. We had to go back later to get crackers and toilet paper, but those we got at the fancy grocery store across the street from us who, by the way, even at 6pm, were totally stocked with everything and the people there were like ooh, la-di-da, and no panic. We filled the car up with gas and that took awhile;; the gas stations were wild. The one across the street wasn't even open anymore because they were out of gas. Out of gas??!! I never even imagined. The whole grocery store and gas station thing really signaled a crisis to me, so I frantically spent the night packing a bag in case we had to leave, looking around and figuring out what were things I couldn't live without (funny how if you'd asked me a month ago I would have named a number of things but in the face of the hurricane my list was much much smaller), and generally freaking out about the possibility of mass destruction. The image (thanks to my neighbor) of laying in the bathtub with a mattress over my head while the roof was blown off didn't help. It took multiple phone calls from generous friends and family to get me settled down. I was cool again.
Friday, Sept. 11, afternoon. Ike was definitely coming to hit us and we were going to be screwed. I tried to play it cool. We filled up every possible container with water, filled the bathtub with water, put all of our valuable things in closets in case the windows were blown out, and Carlos cooked up a nice chicken dinner in preparation for the eventual loss of electricity.
Friday, Sept. 11, evening. Talked to my mom once an hour and checked online to see what was happening with Ike. Played games on Facebook. We went out from time to time to watch the sky and man, let me tell you what, that was something else. Seeing clouds swirling around is kind of freaky. So anyway, the plan was to keep calling my mom every hour until it just wasn't possible or a good idea. It kept me sane, plus she was able to tell me what they were saying on the news since we don't have a TV.
Friday, Sept. 11, night-Friday, Sept. 12, 9am. This is when shit hit the fan. Around midnight I holed up in the bathroom which is I believe around about the time we lost power. I think I maybe called my mom one more time. I brought with me a blanket to lay on the floor, a couple of pillows, the cats, the cat box, cat food, a gallon of water, my purse, a flashlight, a deck of cards, and the radio. And let me tell you how big our bathroom is. The floor space runs the length of a regular-sized bathtub and the width, oh, I'd say two feet. So what is that, a 5' x 2' space. I had visions of Carlos and I playing games and listening to the radio by candlelight as the hurricane passed over us. He had no such intention of complying. So I made Carlos get in with me and the cats and he sat on the toilet and sulked because it was too hot and crowded. But I was like, shit dude, there's a fucking HURRICANE outside and the radio says we're supposed to stay in a safe place without windows and this is the only place and so who cares if it sucks or not, we should stay here. So the wind whipped and the palm trees bent, transformers exploded and lit up the sky and the rooms in the house a scary orange, shit hit the side of the house and landed on the roof, and it was bad news. We listened to the radio talk us through it and then after maybe an hour Carlos got crabby and left. This caused a minor argument because I didn't think he should be in a room with windows, but whatever. He went to sleep. So I was alone until 9 a.m. when the storm finally abated, scared shitless, exhausted, praying, and listening to the radio. I have to say, that radio really got me through. Not like they were talking about anything great, it was just the announcers talking about Ike's progress, where the eye was, how much longer it was going to be bad, and taking calls from people whose phones worked and seeing how they were faring. When it all passed, I crashed.
Saturday, Sept. 12- Monday, Sept. 14: We listened to the radio a lot until we realized that our particular radio eats batteries. We have to get one of those crank radios. Our battery-less flashlight kicked ass, and I think a crank radio would have been super sweet. The damage around our place wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. There was no real flooding or windows out or cars smashed or trees in houses, but there were tons of trees down, branches everywhere, stoplights down or hanging dangerously, stoplight poles hanging over, telephone poles barely standing, and total silence. People were out walking around checking out the damage, getting together outside and chatting with neighbors, sharing grills and cooking up all of the meat that was thawing, and really, here in my neighborhood, people were really taking care of each other. One guy hooked some sort of something up to his truck and so he had electricity until the gas ran out. He and his buddies played poker every night, ran a fan, and watched football. I spent a lot of time reading a New Orleans mystery, talking to my new neighbor, and generally chilling out. Despite the destruction, I really must say that I was enjoying myself, all things considered. I feel bad saying that because so many people suffered and are still suffering. The weather cooled down, and for an entire week we were able to sleep peacefully. I think it was the first time since we moved here that it wasn't too hot to snuggle together in bed.
Tuesday, Sept. 15-: Back to work, believe it or not. Carlos had to go back to Rice and UH opened up as well. Unbelievable. The other school that I teach at, the University of St. Thomas, shut down for the week and actually is still closed. I think they'll open up again on Tuesday. But anyway, imagine having to go back to work without electricity in your house, with the city being destroyed, the campus littered with debris, stop lights out, people waiting hours for gas, no grocery stores open, nothing. It was very inhumane if you ask me. Sure, for me it was just a pain in the ass to go back because we didn't have electricity or Internet. But for other people, it was just cruel. Those who had trees fall through their roofs, those without electricity AND water, people without food, whatever, it just shouldn't have happened. I mean, when grocery stores are letting people in 5 at a time and the line wraps around the building, I don't think we should be working. We spent the days at work/school and then came home and did what we had to do while it was still light out. In the evenings, we read by candlelight and ate cold, canned food. It was disgusting, the canned food part. Twice I took a cold bath, but really it wasn't a bath. It was more like kneeling down in water and trying to take a PTA bath (that's a Pits-Tits-Ass bath, in case you didn't know) with the least amount of water possible. But we talked more, played with the cats more, went to bed earlier, and woke up feeling good.
Saturday, Sept. 20: A week had gone by, and that day we went to the university so that I could use the computer and get some work done. When we came home, we had electricity. Everyone was jubilant. I was happy too, but would be lying if I said I didn't shed a small tear knowing that we'd be back to the same old: working and studying all day, coming home and working and studying all night, sitting in front of the stupid computer with the fan on high, listening to music, not talking to our neighbors, not talking much to each other, going to bed late, getting up tired, less pleasure-reading, and stressing more. Admittedly though, the hot bath was nice.
Lessons learned: Of all that freakin' tuna we have, we only ate one can. So while tuna is a good idea for your hurricane supply, it sure isn't appetizing without mayonnaise. And cold spaghetti O's are okay but the meatballs taste like shit. We didn't eat one single can of vegetables. And who would have thought that the hurricane would screw up your door locks so much that in order to get your key to turn you have to WD-40 them? Lastly, next time we need to have more booze on hand. Much more booze.
Picture of Ike courtesy of Boston Globe. Click for more pictures.
