El Temblor

As I walked up the little road to my house last night, the sky was quickly growing dark and with the darkness, a tremble began to swell inside of me. With the daylight, I was fine. With the darkness, the only picture in my mind was last night’s 7.3 earthquake. Thank goodness I had Justin and together we tried to untangle the events of last night. In the end, I decided my fear was because it was so unlike anything I had ever experienced, that I couldn’t describe it. I couldn’t put it into words so it remained a frightful picture for my mind to watch over and over. So here I am, hoping to get the right words out...



It’s 2:24am. We’re all asleep in bed: Justin, me, Cleo and Pedro. The bedroom door is shut and the ceiling fan rattles around and around. Suddenly, out of sleep I am jolted awake; the house is alive. There is a terrible creaking, an almost human groaning sound. We are thrown back and forth like we are on the Mini Mine Train in Six Flags. I ask Justin, “What is going on?” Are there mean men in the house trying to kill us? We’re struggling to get out of bed, but it’s difficult. We are thrown against each other, our arms grasping for something to hold onto. There’s the sound of breaking glass, of crashing objects. Is the house breaking apart and falling down? Are we crashing to the earth along with suffocating piles of timber on top of us? At last we make it out of bed and Justin opens the bedroom door. I wobble to the door frame; it’s dark and I do not move any further. I can’t see Cleo, but can feel her against my leg. The house is still standing- still shaking, but the pilings are holding. I am beginning to understand it is a earthquake but the words for it are not in my head. I am not sure where Justin is or what he’s doing. I hear myself calling out, “Come over here” or something of that nature. From the light outside the living room window, I can see Justin’s shadow swaying and tripping over the couch cushions which are now on the floor. As he makes it to my side, we reach out for one another. Cleo is still at my leg, but I have no idea where Pedro has gone. This is the first ten seconds; we have twenty more to go.

The earth continues to rumble and the room shakes around us. It feels like it should have ended a long time ago. How can it persist? How far can this house bend? When will it crumble to the ground? Unable to make sense of our world, we hold on to each other as our home continues to grumble and shudder back and forth.

As quickly as it started, it is over. It is unnaturally quiet after the roar of the earthquake. There are no sirens or car alarms going off. The only sound is the beat of the techno dance music from the Bar in the Bush. Justin cracks the front door and a streak of orange fur zooms outside- Pedro. I get dressed, find my flashlight on the floor and walk downstairs to try and coax him back home. There are lights on in the surrounding houses, but no one running around naked and bloody. The dogs have started barking as a sort of Utilian siren. Their howls continue for hours as those who live closer to shore ran from the fear of a tsunami into the island's center.

When I am on the other side of our apartment building we have our first aftershock. It creaks a different kind of creak from the outside, a less alive kind of creak. In the dim light, I stop and watch our apartment building move slowly from side to side. Pedro isn’t seen again until sunrise.

For the rest of the night, the next day, and weeks afterward we continue to experience these aftershocks. Sometimes you don’t know if it’s real or if you’re imagining it. Other times it feels like you’re walking on a waterbed. The first nights after the main earthquake the aftershocks rumbled at regular intervals and Cleo and I clung to each other, shaking as Justin slept soundly. It's weird, but now we have become somewhat accustomed to the earth shaking around us. The other night during dinner, there was an aftershock and we didn't even stop eating. Cleo is also much braver. She woke and growled furiously at the aftershock we had last night and promptly feel back asleep.

It is really quite amazing how very little damage was done. The worst of the damage seems to have happened on the mainland. There, most of the houses are made out of cinder block while in Utila, everything is built out of wood and was our saving grace. For us, we had a lot of broken glass from picture frames and candle holders. Somehow, the TV fell from its metal enclosure. Also, the refrigerator tried to walk across the kitchen. I had made chicken chili in a crock pot that evening. We both had a bowl for dinner and then I put the pot inside the fridge. In those thirty seconds, the chili, inside the pot, inside the refrigerator splashed up and over the lid. The unlocked windows jiggled open. My iPod fell from the top shelf and now has the white screen of death, but I don’t care. I can buy a new iPod someday.

Thanks for reading. I think this has really helped, however I don’t think I will ever forget that first moment of waking up with my house roaring at me and jolting back and forth. I see it almost as a cartoon because houses are not meant to move like that. If I hadn’t experienced it, I wouldn’t believe it were real.



P.S. I have looked on the internet and the American Red Cross has not recommended you stand in a doorway during an earthquake for many years now. There is actually a bit of disagreement on what you are supposed to do. So, who knows? Just keep breathing.