“I've covered devastation. I've covered disaster. I've covered destruction. Hurricane Maria was more,” said Leyla Santiago after returning to Puerto Rico and seeing the aftermath of Hurricane Maria for herself.
Leyla Santiago was born in the village of Corozal, Puerto Rico. Although she left at the age of three with her military family, Corozal and Puerto Rico are integrated into her life. She remembers the holidays and summers she spent there. She remembers her marriage, with the mountainous terrain of Corozal as its backdrop. She remembers the once vibrant vegetation and brilliant blue waters. As she returns to Puerto Rico by plane, she can hardly recognize the place she once knew.
“‘Whoa, it looks like a bomb went off here,” the pilot says. Hurricane Maria might be gone but the destruction it left behind is not. In Leyla’s hometown of Corozal, where her family has lived since the 1880s, the village high school has become a home for over a hundred people. “There were children with asthma, an elderly woman with Parkinson's disease, and a woman with cancer,” Leyla says as she describes the squalor. Conditions are unsanitary and there is no medicine. With the energy generator no longer working, there is much spoiled food. Many people are trying to leave. “The last time I saw a cruise ship anchored here, I could hear music and laughter coming from tourists on board.” recalls Leyla. “This time, there were no celebrations. These weren't tourists. The ship would soon be filled with thousands of Puerto Ricans carrying suitcases fleeing the hurricane-ravaged island.”
But for some, escape is not an option. Iris Perez lives in an elementary school classroom with her expectant older daughter, her younger daughter, and her two-year-old grandchild. Ramón Marrero, a 79-year-old village elder, makes his home in his brother’s toolshed-- a sparse room with a single light bulb. Felix Cruz, whose garage is transformed into a makeshift motel, eats together with his neighbors, combining the little money they have to pay for gas and food. 69-year-old Raquel Mercado and her son sell snacks from her apartment in order to earn some money. Maricarmen del Llano shares her house with her husband, their two children, seven relations, a psychologist, and a veterinarian. 92-year-old Georgia Lopez Ortiz hides in her home, too afraid to brave the gang-patrolled streets. Maria Julia Martinez, who is better off than most Puerto Ricans, is surviving on a hand cranked energy generator.
There is no escaping Hurricane Maria in Puerto Rico. It’s there in the flattened houses and trees. It’s there in the darkness where there's not enough energy to power a lightbulb. It’s there in the increasing costs and decreasing hope of those who remain. It’s there in the haunted faces of 3.4 million people. People who are working together to survive. People who are living with the bare minimum. People who are surviving on hope. Hurricane Maria is not gone. It’s still there.
http://www.cnn.com/2017/10/20/us/puerto-rico-one-month-santiago/index.html