Acapulco’s Recovery Moves Ahead In Fits And Starts After Hurricane Otis Devastation

ACAPULCO, MX (AP) — On a recent afternoon, the 58-year-old lady, a cook by trade, worked inside a beautiful apartment with panoramic views of the Pacific, stuffing Gucci and Dior shoes into a suitcase to carry to her employer. Only the skeleton of her flat and piles of garbage remained, the walls and windows shredded by Hurricane Otis.

Rufina Ruiz, on the other hand, was upbeat. Her house, in a suburb near Acapulco’s entrance, was just flooded, while others in the surrounding neighborhood were “buried.” And she still works, even though she was not at home when the government census of hurricane victims was performed, which would have resulted in relief. “I’d rather work,” she responded.

More than two weeks after Otis raced from tropical storm to Category 5 hurricane in a record 12 hours, catching authorities and people off guard, this 1 million-person city, a mix of large hotels and impoverished suburbs, tourism and drug crime, is attempting to rebuild at a similarly uneven pace.

Cars may now drive down the city’s main thoroughfares, past rubble and downed palm palms. There are signs all across town that say “free food.” There are lines everywhere for water, food, and pharmacy access.

Acapulco’s wealthiest citizens, who evacuated before or shortly after Otis, began to return to assess the value of their seaside properties.

A young man hauled tables and chairs from a modest restaurant along Acapulco’s coastal avenue, which formerly bobbed with yachts. Workers nearby nailed boards over damaged business windows.

Soldiers and National Guard personnel outnumber the once-ubiquitous palm trees in the major streets.

Some residents are upset that officials did not provide greater information about what would happen. Even many who had heard that Otis had become a Category 5 storm had no idea what it entailed.

Acapulco’s Recovery Moves Ahead In Fits And Starts After Hurricane Otis Devastation

Mariel Campos used to work at a hotel and now lives in one of Acapulco’s poorest hillside neighborhoods. She claims she was offered the opportunity to keep her job — cleaning up debris instead of making beds — but declined since it would have cost her more than half of her daily wage of $16 to cover increasing transportation costs to and from her damaged home.

Officially, Hurricane Otis killed at least 48 people and left many more missing. Otis destroyed 80% of the hotel infrastructure and 96% of the businesses in a city that relies heavily on tourism, although it lost some luster in recent decades as organized crime tightened its grip.

The federal government unveiled a $3.4 billion restoration plan earlier this month, including aid for families, small business owners, and hotels, and claims that basic services have been nearly restored. The government of President Andrés Manuel López Obrador called an end to the state of emergency on Thursday.

“It’s outrageous that they think living in these conditions is not an emergency,” said Ana Mextlitzin Méndez, a 44-year-old psychologist whose neighborhood is still without power, away from the tourist corridor.

Acapulco’s Recovery Moves Ahead In Fits And Starts After Hurricane Otis Devastation

Neighbors across the city have banded together to pile branches and clear paths through the streets, but they haven’t been able to clear all of the debris. It is being burned in certain spots while other streets remain closed.

Humanitarian organizations such as Doctors Without Borders have warned of the risk of diseases such as dengue, and many damaged hospitals are already overcrowded. The muggy air is thick with dust, and mosquitoes abound.

Méndez acknowledged that the government cannot do everything independently, but she stated that residents require guidance, which they have not received.

The losses were enormous, but so was the dread, at least in the immediate aftermath of the blow.

“You heard gunshots, screams,” said Alci Garcia, 36, who had to get his wife and 2-year-old daughter out of the city as quickly as possible since his daughter became ill. “Save yourself,” he said, without electricity, water, food, or security. They have yet to return to Acapulco.

Daniela Fiesco, 40, admits that she was among the residents who went to stores straight after the hurricane to get what they needed. She dashed for water, milk, and dog food, carrying whatever she could. But she was also among her neighbors who banded together to build barriers on their street and keep an eye on each other’s backs.

“They said people were breaking into homes and everyone panicked,” she said. “It was really crazy.” Young males were armed with sticks and machetes. She believes the city has become a state of “collective hysteria.”

There were also acts of solidarity, which often come before any government assistance.

A community kitchen opened before Fiesco’s house and was only closed a few days ago.

Alejandra Hernández protected numerous neighbors’ families when Otis struck on Oct. 25 because her in-laws’ house was one of the few made of concrete in the disadvantaged neighborhood.

Except for the iconic — and now ancient — Volkswagen Beetles, popularly known as “vochos,” very few cars make it through the neighborhood’s narrow streets.

The only relief here, where the Acapulco Bay stretches out before inhabitants, has been from individual citizens or churches, said Victorino Justo Bolaos, from where his house stood. There is now only a concrete room and a patch of ground where a kitchen once stood. However, the roof and wooden walls were blown away along with the kitchen.

A couple of teenagers nearby discovered something nice among the devastation. Anthony Sánchez, 16, said as he watched their homemade kites dive and soar, “now that there are no wires, we can fly.”

SOURCE – (AP)