Most hurricanes blow into an area, devastate it, and blow out within hours. Hurricane Wilma planted herself on Cozumel for two full days. A cruise ship pier was destroyed. Along the San Miguel promenade, restaurants, shops and bars were eviscerated. The national park of Chankanaab experienced catastrophic damage and our five-star resort was blown to bits. Sixty-three people died in the storm and the area suffered $29 billion in loss.
Thousands of tourists crowded Cancun and waited days for planes to get them home. They sweated out the time in stifling shelters set up in schools. Some were given care kits, each containing a sheet of plastic and a bag of potato chips.
From all reports, the Mexican people remained gracious hosts under extraordinarily difficult circumstances. Many of their own homes were in rubble, yet they continued to help stranded foreigners find food and water.
We flew into Mexico City, changed planes and continued on to Los Angeles. At the end of the long day I crawled into bed and fell asleep. William stayed up. The house was quiet until I woke up screaming from a nightmare.
Do you think there's a tiny part of us that would like to experience the drama of a hurricane?
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