by Riyan Choudhury and Steven Baksa
The scent of opportunity was wild in the air as we drove into the small town. It was exactly as I’d expected. The clear roads, the blue skies, the crafty architecture of the buildings, it was all within my sight. “Look there Ricardo!” said my beautiful wife Joanna as she pointed to the open grass fields. As much as we loved the Dominican Republic, we were excited to head to Hazleton. Joanna and I had had enough of the endless corruption and faulty living conditions. We were ready to settle. But more importantly, we were ready to set the lives of our grandchildren. Being of advanced age ourselves, we were more excited to give life to our grandchildren in a land where opportunity was plentiful.
Joanna’s sister, Emily, had been living in Hazleton with her husband Matt for decades now. Emily’s house was gorgeous. As packed as it was with modern furniture, just about every room had a touch of their Dominican heritage. The walls of their living room were adorned with paintings of fruits. This is a Dominican tradition. It made me happy to see that Emily and Matt had not lost touch with their roots. Emily and Matt were extremely hospitable, just as we were to them each time they had visited in the Dominican Republic, which was about every year. We made sure that they felt right at home during each visit. Emily and Matt were doing a splendid job making us feel at home. For dinner we had savory rice, beans, and chicken along with my favorite, mangu, or mashed plantains. As we were gathered around the dinner table, I started to notice the clear skies becoming gloomy-looking. Within minutes, we could hear droplets of water pounding against the streets and the windows in the dining room. I turned my head towards the window to see the drops of rainwater come down. “Don’t look so shocked Ricardo.” said Matt happily. “Thunderstorms will be something you’ll have to become accustomed to here in Hazleton.”
Joanna and I had a room all to ourselves. The guest room was massive. I laid on the bed for a long while. I must have stayed up for another two hours after watching my beautiful wife fall asleep. It was strange. Despite having such a long flight, I found myself not being able to rest my eyes. The continued rhythm of the water droplets mesmerized me. It brought solitude. It wasn’t long before my peace was ruined by strong gusts of winds. They were like demonic whispers. For the first time in a long time, I was frightened. The scariest part was I had no idea what it was I feared, but whatever it was, it brought tears to my eyes. I cried myself to sleep that night. My eyes shut tight behind the tears that drowned my face. And just like that, I was asleep.
“So far 1, 200 Dominicans have died, causing over $1 billion in damage.” said the news reporter through the old functioning radio. The radio was set atop a desk that stood in front of a painting of a fruit bowl. “Where was I?” I thought to myself. One look out the window had my question answered instantly. I was in Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic. How I ended up here was a mystery to me. It was strange. Despite the fact that I was back home in South America, I felt cold. As I continued to peer out the window into the muddy roads, it came as a shock to me to see how hard it had been raining. Water flooded the dirt roads and the trees looked as though they were being pulled down. As I looked away from the window I peered down only to realize that I had no idea where I stood. Whose house was I in? How did I get in? As I began to roam around the deserted house my memory began to come back to me. I was, undoubtedly, in the home of my parents. This was my childhood home, but what was I doing here right now? To make things stir even wilder in my head, I looked at a calendar. The X’s marked out from day to day made it clear that the date was August 31, 1979. Suddenly it was all clear to me. I wasn’t living in the present. I was reliving the past. I was reliving the tragic events of Hurricane David.
It happened on the afternoon of August 31, 1979. A huge hurricane blew with 175 mile an hour winds and gusts of up to 200 mph. It was the biggest storm to ever hit the Dominican Republic, reaching Category 5 on the Saffir-Simpson Hurricane scale. It went so far that some people resorted to living in caves, and using huge palm leaves as shelter. The mudslides destroyed water stations, fouled reservoirs, broke aqueducts, and isolated the people from food and medical help. Some people had no way no way of receiving any food; some took matters into their own hands; a group of lepers attacked a food truck that was for one of its colonies. Chaos. Pure chaos, simply put, is what was occurring. I wanted more than anything to wake up from this nightmare and erase the memories from my head. The lucidity of the dream only made matters worse, because events were no longer occurring in order. I was now walking down the village path in Santo Domingo, and as I did, I saw a woman with bloody feet. The storm had taken her shoes. As I continued to venture down I walked past another woman ironing a shirt without the iron plugged in. “What are you doing?” I asked. “Sh! Silence.” The lady spoke. “I must iron these clothes.” I walked away silently with goosebumps on my arms. And I knew for sure that I was not only dreaming of having these goosebumps. They must have been on my physical body as I laid there in the guest room of Matt and Emily’s home. I continued to walk. I focused long and hard on each step because if not, then I may have forgotten where I was heading. But just like that, I’d forgotten. I looked around. It was deserted. The lady with the bloody feet and the lady with the iron were both gone. Suddenly I realized why, but it was already too late. One blink of an eye and the roaring winds sent me flying.
I’d never felt more relieved to wake up from my sleep. As I laid up in bed, I stared out the window once more. It was drizzling outside. I looked towards my beautiful wife Joanna to find her staring and smiling at me. “You spoke in your sleep last night.” she said to me. “Bad dream?” I looked her in the eyes and said “no.” She gave me an intense look, followed by a passionate kiss. I was happy to be spending the rest of my life with this women, and in a place where we could start fresh, with all of our past-life experiences in the past. This was it. The start of a new era.
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