Holguin Won’t Forget Melissa

Late Tuesday night, October 28th, in the city of Holguin. Not a light was visible nearby. There was no electricity, just like in previous days. This time the reason was different: hours were left before the arrival of an unprecedented hurricane to these lands.

It’s drizzling heavily. It clears up intermittently. When I turn on the lamp, I think that Melissa has always seemed like a pretty, sweet name to me, one I could perfectly well give my daughter. Curious that it was chosen for something that promises to be so catastrophic. There are still people on the sidewalk.

The night progresses and a light wind begins, just a few gusts that force us to close the only part of the house that remains closed: the front door. We go inside and everything is dark. Going to bed would be the best option. Perhaps when we wake up it will all be over; however, it wouldn’t be that easy.

Early Wednesday morning, October 29th. I will never forget that sound. If nightmares had music, perhaps the strong winds would be one of their melodies. It was something persistent, endless, that set off alarms with every shrill noise it made in its wake.

Every time I felt a tile or a piece of wood hit something. I thought about the work its former owners had gone through to acquire them. About the place they occupied and to which they would never return. Also about how they might be flying away because they hadn’t been properly secured. You think about many things while a hurricane is passing.

The water begins to seep into the house. The gaps between the doors seem to be the perfect place for the rain to seep in. I hear nothing but the sounds from outside. My family doesn’t hear anything either. We don’t speak; we act like automatons trying to protect the place where we live.

The clarity of day makes everything look different. The gusts and the rain remain, but you lose that suffocating feeling that total darkness brings. The sound of the wind continued to rage. I’ll hardly be able to forget that sound.

Holguin had been spared the direct impact of a hurricane for years. The younger generation lacked a vivid experience of these phenomena. Which are devastating both during and after their passage. That changed in the early hours of October 29th.

The rain is beginning to recede, and the wind is weakening. Radio Rebelde tells us that the eye of the storm is already outside of Cuba. Although the effects are still being felt. We are cut off, at least for the moment. Our only link to the outside world is our neighbors. They are safe. I hope my family is too.

A brief walk through the city allows me to glance at social media. The damage in other municipalities of the province was terrible. As it was in the neighboring eastern territories. I think of the victims, while I am certain that Holguin will not forget Melissa.