 |
|
|
Introducing her book
"I am my father's daughter"
 |
|
|
|
| THE PRICE OF LIVING IN PARADISE |
| Written by Maria Elena Salinas |
| Monday, October 31 2005 |
| |
| MIAMI -- To many people, Miami is paradise. There is tropical weather year-round, endless miles of beaches and a unique international flavor. Tourists come here in droves to soak up the sun and hang out in the famed Art Deco district of South Beach. Luxury condos are popping up everywhere, and the sale of oceanfront property is hotter than the temperature on a blistering Florida summer day.
But we might as well face it: If we want to live in paradise, we have to pay the price. This is hurricane territory, and from June 1 to Nov. 30, there is always a chance that this area could get hit by a hurricane or tropical storm. And when it does, paradise can turn into your worst nightmare.
The nightmare begins the moment meteorologists start reporting that there's a tropical wave or depression forming off the coast of Africa or in the waters near the Caribbean. Should it become a tropical storm and start heading north, the guessing game begins: Will it increase in strength? Will it go up the Atlantic or into the Gulf of Mexico? Either way, Florida can get it from both sides.
If there's even a slight chance that the storm is headed our way, the frenzy begins. Our local weathercasters show us the dreaded cone of uncertainty, and if we have the misfortune of being anywhere inside that shaded area, our anxiety level rises dramatically.
Those of us who live in the tropics know the drill: We have to stock up on bottled water, canned food, flashlights and batteries. We have to make sure the car has a full tank of gas, and that hurricane shutters are protecting our windows and glass doors. For those who don't have shutters, there's the obligatory trip to the hardware store for sheets of plywood.
After being hit by so many hurricanes, you would think the drill would be an easy task, but no. People always wait until the last minute and end up being unprepared. Maybe it's because of the imperfect science of predicting hurricanes -- it could hit north or south of us, it could bring more rain than gusts, or vice versa. You never know for sure.
Or maybe it's because we have gotten so many false alarms. Too often, after going through the motions of hurricane hysteria, we sit there for endless hours, waiting for the storm, and not a leaf moves from the trees; not a drop falls from the sky. The tempest decides to change course at the last minute and leaves us with the frustration of having worked for nothing.
But it's a risky thing, being complacent, skeptical or apathetic. The consequences of a powerful storm can be as unpredictable as its exact target. It's happened to us twice in just two months. Before heading out through the Gulf Coast, Hurricane Katrina came in here as a Category 1 storm, causing havoc, ripping roofs off homes and businesses, flooding neighborhoods, destroying trailer homes, uprooting decades-old trees and knocking out power for more than a week. Then came Hurricane Wilma.
For several days, we knew that Wilma had become the most powerful storm of the season and could very well be heading in our direction. Yet when it arrived, it caught many by surprise. How could a storm that comes in through the west coast of the state leave the Atlantic Coast cities of Miami and Fort Lauderdale in such shambles? There were more floods, uprooted trees, shattered windows and the possibility of going up to a month without electricity or water.
Of course, after the devastation that Katrina left in the Gulf Coast states, what Rita did to Texas and Louisiana, and the death and destruction caused by Stan and Wilma in Mexico and Central America, we can't complain. We know that, year in and year out, there is a chance that we will again be the target of a hurricane. And if you can see past the fallen trees, roof shingles and mile-long lines for gas, food and ice, you have to admit that this is still paradise. But to live here, we have to pay a heavy price.
*** |
|
|
