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Greetings from Yap!! Our group survived the 40-hour trip from Charlotte-Houston-Tokyo-Guam-Yap, and it seemed to take only slightly longer than an afternoon commute on I-77. Maybe a bit shorter, actually. We were met at the airport by old friends Charles Chieng (Chief of Dalipebinaw), Margie Falanruw (Director, Yap Institute of Natural Science), and Dave Vecella (Owner, Beyond The Reef dive shop), and shared laughs and smiles all around. After throwing our bags and selves into the pick-up trucks waiting for us, we left for our house.
Yap is not the place it used to be because, well, typhoons have a way of doing that to a place. On April 9, Typhoon Sudal, which had been wending its way harmlessly across the Pacific, suddenly turned almost directly south. Towards Yap.
If you ever find yourself about to be hit by a Pacific typhoon, here's a quick primer: the worst place to be is the "eyewall" where the winds are at maximum strength, fueled by the evaporative energy gathered from an ocean area the size of the continental United States, then concentrated to an area about the size of Massachusetts (or smaller). That April 9 morning, Yap found itself in the eyewall of Typhoon Sudal for six hours - exposed to peak winds of up to 150 mph.
By the time Sudal had passed, 99% of residents were without electricity, water, and phone. Eighty percent of homes had been destroyed or lost their roofs. Coconut trees were not only ripped from the ground, some were snapped in half with roots still attached to the soil. Chunks of sheet metal roofing were peeled off and blown around, twirling like six-foot razor blades.
At the airport, we met up with Joe, the owner of Yap Surf Lodge, which, like most things on the east side of Yap, was completely destroyed. "It's like it was never there," he said. Joe was at home when Sudal hit with such suddenness and ferocity that he had to throw a TV through his back window to get out of his house. For the five days it took for aid to arrive, he survived by drinking juice from downed coconuts, spearing fish in the reef, and cooking them over a fire of tree braches and coconut husks. And I thought exam week was hard.
But, nature has a way of recovering, and already new leaves are coming out of the trees. On April 11, Yap was declared a Federal Disaster Area by the U. S. government, bringing the full force of the Federal Emergency Management Agency to help in Yap's recovery. For over a week, three to four C-130 military transport planes came daily to Yap loaded with generators, fresh water, medical supplies, and temporary housing. Of course, some places were hit worse than others.
Today, we helped clean up the debris from a traditional community building in Kadai destroyed by Sudal. The village will rebuild it. Across the island, the major debris has been cleaned up. Power, water, and phone lines all have been repaired. And so, even though much work remains to be done, a good portion of Yapese life has returned to normal.
During our first few days on island, we've been busily making ourselves at home in the village of Kanif on Yap's west side. Last night we walked to the beach and watched the sunset. The jet lag is leaving us a little more each day — today we actually slept in to 5:00 am, then popped out of bed like toast from a toaster. If only we could do that in Charlotte!
Our past accommodations in Colonia are being used by the home's owner, Thomas Moon, whose first home was obliterated by Sudal. Our new house is a comfortable cement building with a 20' by 40' main room, kitchen, and two bathrooms. A few students brought tents to sleep in to get the evening breezes.
One thing to note about our new house is that there are no mirrors. Since none of us brought one, we are living in a very un-American way: we have no idea what we look like. Somehow, we've survived this cultural adjustment.
We have hooked up the water filter, floor fans, and coffee pot. We have beach towels hanging on the line and posters on the wall. We have CDs playing on the computer. We know our neighbors and have even named the roosters that greet us (early!) each morning. And we're home.
— Dr. Reed Perkins |
