Monday, August 31, 2020

stop raining on my parade


Steve owns a house in Barra de Navidad. During the recent rains that were dragged along in the wake of off-shore Tropical Storm Hernan, his house suffered no flood damage. Not even from a rumored sewage backup.

The only rain damage was from the usual ceiling cracks, and subsequent leaks, that plague Mexican homes. In this case, in his son's bedroom and in the library.

Valeria lives in a house in Jaluco. As a result of local flooding brought on by the rains, her house was completely inundated. The only visible part was a portion of her roof.

When the water receded, it left behind a thick layer of mud that was a bit reminiscent of what a box of chocolate cake mix bought on sale at a discount grocery outlet would produce. Her family has lost everything.

Most of the people here fall in the Steve category. With a bit of tinkering, their homes are in fine fettle. But there are hundreds of families and businesses who have suffered the same fate as Valeria's home.



These mud deluges are not new. There are certain areas of Villa Obregon and Melaque that have minor floods from the annual heavy summer rains. During those rains, the streets of Barra de Navidad do not flood as much as they act as conduits for sewage bubbling out of the ground.

Melaque is a bit different. Like many towns built on alluvial flood plains, a good portion of the town is built in a low trough between the highway and the beach. That trough was once part of a drainage system that fed into the largest fresh water lagoon on the west coast of Mexico.

When it rains, the system returns to its natural course -- and the houses and businesses built in its path pay the price. Think of New Orleans on a smaller scale.


In 2011 Hurricane Jova hit just north of us. The winds howled through town -- as would be expected of a type 2 hurricane. But most of Jova's destruction came from the rain it dropped. Houses were invaded by mud and water. All caused by 313.9 L/M² of rain.*

Tropical Storm Herman was far more generous. In a 36-hour period, it dumped 393.8 L/M
² on the Costalegre. As a consequence, the same areas that were flooded in 2011 were once again flooded -- but the flood covered a much wider area.




For some people, that meant the loss of everything. Bedding. Furniture. Food. Refrigerators. Stoves. And, most of all, memories and the loss of peace of mind when a home is visited by tragedy.

But, this is Mexico. And the story never ends on a sad note -- even though the best Mexican ballads do.

By the time I returned on Saturday afternoon, it was apparent on the drive in from the airport that heavy rains had had their way with the countryside. The night before I arrived, the road from the airport had been under water. Other than a few patches where the road bed had been undermined, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

That was not true when I drove through the business center of Melaque. The streets were still mired in mud, and business owners were attempting to salvage their inventory. 

Government teams were spraying down the streets and scraping up mounds of mud** with front loaders. Other teams were clearing off the almost-foot thick mud that still encrusted the benches in the jardin.


But the bulk of the work was under way in homes. Family members gathered to help one another by shoveling and raking mud out of houses to give the bucket brigade some room to work effectively. I drove over to help Dora, the woman who helps me keep my house clean, get her home in shape. But she and her family had already done that.

And that is the lesson I learned on my journeys today and on Saturday.

I ran into my accountant on Saturday cleaning out the mess that had once been his office. He repeated what we all already knew. This was the worst flood most of us had witnessed in Melaque. But he added a coda: "And I fear it is going to get worse in the future."


He may be correct. Those businesses and houses that are built in the historical flood plain may see these types of storm-based floods with some regularity. 

If it does happen, though, I know one thing. Individual Mexicans working together will get the job done. Certainly, the government is doing its part to help. Cash disbursements are already being delivered through Banamex to those who have suffered losses.




But the road repairs, families cleaning houses, and businesses getting back on their feet have been accomplished within days of the flood -- and all done by people who, out of necessity and grit, have learned how to face what life has next on its agenda for them.

For those of my friends who still ask why I live in Mexico, I can think of no better reply. 



* -- Litres per square meter is the calculation meteorologists use to measure rain. I tried relying on my high school math to convert that reading into inches. The absence of that calculation gives you some idea how successful I was.

** -- One of the side effects of the mud is that it will long be with us. Every year when it floods, but especially after major storms, the mounds of sewer-infused mud dries out and hangs in the air along major roads for months. It is best not to think about it too much. 
 


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