Remembering what happened before Typhoon Nuro, I was on the beach, taking in the tranquility just before the storm was about to hit. Contrasted with the impending mayhem, the tranquil ambiance was misleading. The neighborhood was abuzz with activity as people scrambled to secure their properties and get ready for what was to come. The rarity of the situation—the whole beach to myself—emphasized how serious it was. There was a noticeable air of urgency as the normally busy businesses closed their doors. Even though the storm wasn't due for another six or seven hours, everyone was busy getting ready.
It is to be commended that the villagers were so diligent. They demonstrated an impressive degree of planning ahead of time and camaraderie by beginning to get ready days in advance. But when I looked about for potential dangers, I noticed things like construction debris that could become deadly projectiles in the storm's power. The construction site next to it appeared especially weak, with things lying about that couldn't have survived the typhoon.
It was clear that the whole neighborhood had come together as I meandered around the neighborhood. In preparation for the storm surge, sandbags were stacked high and temporary barriers were built. The dramatic decline of the once-thriving tourist destination into a deserted wasteland was striking. Stages for live music and other attractions were nowhere to be found, and the infrastructure that had entertained people during the weekend was removed. Even though it had once brought happiness and leisure, the ocean was now a major danger.
As everyone braced for the worst, I noticed efforts to protect property, even ATMs. The adjoining hotel was being boarded up to protect the progress that had been made during its construction. As if to foreshadow the typhoon's approach, the wind was already building up speed, and its direction was changing, making the approaching calamity all the more unexpected.
The gravity of our situation became clear as the sky darkened. Authorities in the area had issued a lockdown order, telling residents to take cover until the storm passed. A stronger wind was becoming increasingly apparent, indicating that Typhoon Nuro was getting closer.
Chaos reigned that night. A stark reminder of the destructive power of nature, my structure shook and creaked as the storm pounded on. The feeling that the structure was shifting was unnerving, even though it was engineered to endure such conditions. The constant rain and howling wind made for a very uncomfortable night.
Typhoon Nuro was a life-altering event that taught us to be prepared and to stand together as a nation in the face of adversity. It brought devastation and terror, but it also brought out the best in the people who met the disaster head-on: their resilience and willingness to work together. Life went back to normal, but the typhoon was still fresh in everyone's mind, a constant reminder of the brief respite before the storm and the unity needed to survive it.