"I survived Hurricane Irma" • The odyssey by GV

“At the end of the world, on an unknown island that has become my homeland, we were 6 in a bathroom of 4m2, the children rebeled under a mattress, waiting for the end of the world to get away”

Wanderlix presents the Odyssey of Marion, a young mother of family who moved to Saint-Martin, a paradise island in the West Indies, having had to face Hurricane Irma.

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Paris – 2014.

It’s been months, years, maybe the idea is sprouting in my head: leaving, escaping from the other end of the world, on those called “the heavenly islands”. But leaving with his children and his spouse, leaving his family, his home, his work behind, is not so easy after all.

Yet in 2013, when a couple of friends told us to have left everything to settle in Saint-Martin, a small island in the West Indies located near the Guadeloupe and of Martinique , the idea of leaving in our turn becomes an obsession.

So it’s a little year later, in 2014, that my spouse and I decide to visit them for about 15 days. But in fact, I already know that we're not really on vacation, but rather... on a search mission! Observe nature, culture and daily life, imagine my children running on the beach while I enjoy the view, my spouse alongside me...

We do not need more than two or three days to decide: we will live here. Time is no longer valuable, and everything accelerates on our return to Paris. We quit our jobs quickly, sell our furniture, let’s go our flat without browing and take the time to announce, all smiles, this decision to our families. We left for the end of the world.

At 29, I finally take the time to realize my dream. My spouse, my children and I will live on a paradise island! Without a job, without a home and almost without a bag, at the roots... The total foot!

Arrival on the island

When we arrived on site in 2015, the paradise island took all its meaning: everything we touch, see, smell or eat seems to come from paradise. My spouse gets a job and we find a sublime small house in less than 3 weeks, before registering the children in school.

In addition, we integrate particularly quickly into the local population and culture, which is also incredible. A cultural melting-pot is available to us!

The most striking example is probably that of the language. As soon as we arrive, I understand that my shortcomings in English will be a brake on my adaptation. But very soon I realize that here, it will not be a problem for a long time. In fact, in Saint-Martin, there are so many different cultures and horizons that everyone communicates a little in several languages.

The discussions are made of English, Creole, French and Spanish. It is as complex as it is sublime. Sometimes I just need to hear a stranger talk to have a smile.

On our side, we live quietly in a small village, named Colombiar, and our daily life is made of iguanas on the dryer and on the outskirts of the house, monkeys swinging in the mountain in front of our garden, smells of “street-barbecues” from 10am when the locals put music and laugh for a yes or no... We swim in happiness, with the vague impression that it will never stop.

The arrival of Hurricane Irma

Of course, when we move into a place like Saint-Martin, we find out before we leave. So obviously, we knew it was a risk zone. But that risk was out of the question of not taking it. After all, natural disasters happen even in France, so why should we give up our dream?

The season is wet and hot when we approach the end of August 2017, and we have been here for two years. At that time, many things say about the island, and the history of the cyclone Harvey , the one who hits Texas then, is on all lips.

Then comes the moment we hear about Hurricane Irma for the first time, about a week before the cyclone passes. Local channels and premises themselves are working to ensure that all residents are aware.

The concern rises slightly over the days and the first doubts are felt on the island, while some tourists are repatriated. But I have never really been scared. When I started seeing our neighbors barricading their windows, their doors with wooden boards, I simply realized that we were going to live something amazing, exceptional. In our turn, assisted by friends, we strengthened our home, as best we could.

We then think of our neighbor, a little woman living with her son in a house right next to us. Without hesitation or discussion, we invite him to come and take refuge with us for the night, because we know at the bottom of us that his house will not hold the blow.

Hurricane

It is in the middle of the evening that everything begins. The sky darkens and the wind grows, as excitement and stress grow in me. For its part, adrenaline makes sleep impossible to find. I remember that we didn’t think of going to bed before 3:00 in the morning. Electricity is still stable, and I take advantage of it to power my social networks to reassure my loved ones.

The night then flows slowly, every minute seems to last hours. The sound of the wind is getting more and more pressing, I feel the vibrations of the walls shaking up into my bones, while fear grows tirelessly in me.

It is then 5 a.m. when a smiling noise comes to shock my fears: some of our roof just flew away. I am panicked, my brain is boiling but I try to stay calm for the good of my children, and that of my neighbor. I gather all this little world in our bathroom. At the end of the world, on an unknown island that became my homeland, we were 6 in a bathroom of 4m2, the children rebeled under a mattress, waiting for the end of the world to get away.

The situation seems to last forever. Minutes go together and don’t look like each other. Sometimes chatty, sometimes silent, I try to reassure mine as best I can. Rassored, I'm not myself, but it's out of the question to show it. I am terrorized, but I try to look as quiet as possible.

I sometimes pray that my children may fall asleep and that their worries are calming down. But with this wind, it is impossible. This wind, always this wind that seems to make only gain in power, while we all urge it to calm down. I am then marked by the noise it releases. Sometimes it resembles the sound of a high-speed train, and trying to pull the brakes of all its forces. The screaming is unbearable, at least as much as the noise of water invading our living room.

The night is long, endless. But here the sun rises very early, between 05:00 and 06:00. So I know the worst is gone, and the calm will come back soon. To determine the time remaining in our suffering, I look at the time: already 7:30. Yet, not a glimmer on the horizon...

The day after the cyclone

It is already 9h when, always in our bathroom, barricaded in our house with half a roof over the head, we see the first lights of the day: the storm is over, Hurricane Irma has passed.

Before we go out, we take a first look, careful, through the window. The parking lot next to our house doesn't look like anything anymore, cars are stacked on each other. When we get out, the shock is brutal: our host land, our heavenly island is destroyed, nothing remains. Above all, panic takes hold of the whole population.

As soon as Irma has passed, other cyclones seem to be approaching. This is certainly what drives a part of the tourists to flee, joining the metropolis by sometimes leaving their animals behind them... The chaos is total, and I remember thinking about leaving the island for a few hours. After all, how else can we do?

Our house is totally flooded, schools are destroyed, our paradise no longer exists. But this thought quickly leaves me, we will not be part of these tourists coming to enjoy the island when everything goes well, fleeing when everything goes wrong. We will stay to help rebuild Saint-Martin.

So we donate more than half of our clothes, help unpack, rebuild. Yet today, much remains to be done. 3 years later, there are still many people who don’t have a roof, and it’s unfortunately not due to chance...

The post-apocalypse

One of the burdens of a small island like that of Saint-Martin is corruption. Of course, we receive many aids from the state after the passage of Irma. Unfortunately, they never reach the population. Communities prefer to keep money for them, seeing an opportunity to enrich themselves, to buy pretty cars. But if only the only bad memory related to “after Irma” was here...

There is something I have to tell you, that breaks my heart every time I think about it. The French state has spoken of only 11 deaths, for an island of about 40,000 inhabitants, and destroyed 90% by the cyclone... There, we all know they're bullshit. Already, we see a building on the beach, totally destroyed.

If he was probably no longer sheltering anyone in the hurricane, it is because many had left him to take refuge in a stadium, which was destroyed. We also know that many premises have no paper, and are not listed in the census...

Above all, I have to face a smell that I will never forget. We are a few days after the passage of Irma when I pass in front of a container, then protected by the army. From this container a odor emerges, which embalms all the neighboring streets, a pestilent smell, a smell of death.

She immersed me a few years before when in Paris, one of my neighbours had died, and we knew it only by the smell of her apartment. I would recognize this odor for the rest of my life, and the smell of this container is this one.

For me it is obvious, this container is filled with corpses, which the army protects and hides. I will never have the proof, but I am convinced.

The use to the pleasant

Obviously, after the passage of Irma, we must forget electricity and drinking water for a good time. With 90% of the island destroyed, the desalinisation plants out of use, one must find a way to manage... And it is here in this galery that one of my most beautiful memories resides in Saint-Martin.

As we pass in front of a large surface, almost destroyed, we see a sort of attroupement. We already know that people are inside, recovering a maximum of non-perishable products to survive. Without the shadow of a hesitation, I decided to do the same.

But as I expect scenes of chaos, I’m surprised to see a perfectly organized population, helping each other, and spreading products fairly. It reigns in this place a calm and serene atmosphere, almost reassuring. We then proceed to the cold room to distribute fresh products.

I find myself alive one of the most unlikely scenes of my life: I am given a gigantic fish, a red tuna of at least one meter that I have to report home as soon as possible. These fresh and perishable products must be eaten as soon as possible. The locals then organize large festivals outside, in the streets destroyed, in the midst of chaos.

BBQs are out, alcohol too and people sing, dance and eat while partying. The truth is that I have never eaten as well as the week after the passage of Irma! The atmosphere is unimaginable, indescribable. We are all here, coming to be struck with a whip, and we celebrate the joy of being together again.

I already know that these moments of communion will remain forever. Life then slowly resumed its course, while I stayed in Saint-Martin two more years. For his part, my spouse has been obliged to return to the metropolitan territory, and we have found it wiser than our children are with it.

For my part, I could not resign myself to leave this island, this land on which I felt I had always lived. We are then at the beginning of 2020 when I decide to return to France, with my children. The idea of leaving Saint-Martin terrifies me, but I know that I will come back, for good this time...

Life after Saint-Martin

For a few months I am back in France, with my children, my real happiness. But Saint-Martin never leaves me. The sun, the blue of the ocean, the turtles, the rays, the population, I know that I will find them one day.

It must be said that once we have discovered this island, and it has opened your arms, it is impossible to forget it. I found friends there, and even a sister of heart, who will welcome me as long as necessary when I return to it, definitively.

Today, tourism has resumed in Saint-Martin, and Covid-19 does not seem to be a constraint. I receive videos from my friends, who continue to enjoy every moment of life, as usual, and I'm late to join them.

Saint-Martin and Irma represent a large part of my life today. They totally changed the person I am, and the vision I have of the world. The importance of smiling, always, whatever happens, and the importance of supporting each other. It is also important to believe in his dream and not hesitate to follow him, he will only bring you happiness.