It’s an earthquake; quick get the water bottle

As you probably already know, yesterday Costa Rica experienced a 7.6 magnitude earthquake.  This will make the third earthquake I’ve experienced since I arrived; the fourth in my life having experienced the random one in NY last year (of which my neighbors were sure the construction workers outside had knocked into the building).  Anyway of the four this one was definitely the scariest. 

We had just finished recess, my two fifth graders had settled in and I was getting ready to start my lesson.  I was standing in front of my desk when I felt extremely ill.  I felt really dizzy and thought that I was going to faint.  My vision was blurry and I was really scared.  If you’ve ever felt dizzy you know that usually you can sit down or just stay still and it goes away.  I kept waiting for this to happen and it wouldn’t.  All I kept thinking was please don’t let me faint because I know all the nurses and doctors in training (aka my students) would arrive in two seconds flat to observe me lying there on the ground.  In the distance I could see the blackboard, which hangs from the ceiling, rocking back and forth and in my haze I realized it had to be an earthquake.  I looked over to my students, who with their terrified faces confirmed, as we all said at the same time, in my English only classroom, “temblor.”

The two girls quickly walked, well really ran out of my classroom and I followed, though it was a bit difficult.  It was like one of those amusement park rides where you can’t stand up straight because some force is pulling you in another direction, only there was no ticket booth, there was no cotton candy and there was no laugher.  This was real life.  I arrived in the front of the school in time to see the rest of the school evacuating.  I instantly grabbed one of the kindergarteners’ hands and proceeded to the exit.  When I got just about to the gate, one of the teachers shouted “Teacher get the water bottle.” I still don’t understand her thinking on this one, but she wanted me to walk back and grab the bottle of water that was sitting on a nearby table.  I, like an idiot obliged.  The kindergartner, who obviously had more sense than I did; realizing that I was going away from the direction of safety dropped my hand and followed the group.  I guess he learned at an early age, every man for himself.  I later learned that the teacher was in such a panic that the principal actually had to calm her down.  She frantically kept shouting “It’s an earthquake, it’s an earthquake.” 

We walked behind the school to the little concrete playground to wait it out.  The principal was very calm and collected the entire time.  I really did admire her leadership.  She gathered all the children in a circle and explained to them, especially the younger ones (all the Kindergarten and First graders were there at the time), the situation and how proud she was of all of them for remaining calm.  In the background you could hear the custodian shouting on the phone and frantically pacing because she couldn’t get through to her sons.  The principal had to stop her speech to let her know that her sons were fine.  I still felt a bit dizzy and realized we probably would be out there for a bit, so I decided to sit down on the ground.  I guess the principal liked this idea because she told them all to sit down with me and then all the teachers walked to the side and conversed.  Well, listening to about twenty students tell you how scared they were and recounting their version of what happened wasn’t exactly what I’d call a good time so I decided we were going to sing a song.  What better song than “If you’re happy and you know it.”  They all sang, though those were the most pitiful happy faces I’ve seen in my life, poor things were probably scared to death.

The rest of the day was spent recounting the tale; how mothers and grandmothers smothered children and began praying, how people were on farms, or dizzy, or didn’t even know that there was an earthquake.

I’d say the whole account only lasted about twenty minutes, but it definitely felt longer.  In those twenty minutes I learned a couple of things.  1) In a crisis, don’t go back for a water bottle, life is do short and I would like to not risk mine for a water bottle, I don’t care if it was made of platinum I’m going to keep it moving; and 2) Adults act worse than children in times of a crisis.