The Mija Chronicles

Mexican food and culture, on both sides of the border

earthquakes

A couple of thoughts after the earthquake

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A section of pedestrian bridge fell on this empty pesero during the quake. No one was hurt. (AP Photo/Alexandre Meneghini)

Thanks to everyone for asking about us. We’re fine.

I’m sorry I didn’t check in sooner, but I left for California for a few days to hang out with my family. (I already had the trip planned.) The quake was a doozy, though — people here are still talking about it.

I was just getting off the elevator when it happened. The door opened and I went to put my key in the door, and the door hit me in the forehead. I thought: What the…? Am I dizzy? Just then a young guy came downstairs and grabbed my elbow. “Vámanos, vámanos!” I stared at him. “There’s an earthquake, señorita, we have to go.” Feeling numb, I ran down five flights of stairs, holding onto his arm with one hand and clutching a stack of copies I’d made with another.

The building was still swaying when we got to the parking garage. One of the cleaning ladies, who was also in the parking garage, fainted. She later told me her brother-in-law’s family died in the earthquake in ’85 because they were unable to get out of their building.

After the quake was over, the power was out and the phones didn’t work. I finally got a hold of Crayton about 1 1/2 hours later. I cried when I heard his voice.

I’m still a little shaken up, even though it was a week ago. If Crayton stirs just a little bit in bed, I’m up immediately, thinking about the roof caving in. This whole thing also has me seriously wondering whether we should move into a lower floor apartment building. We’re on the fifth floor now, and I really don’t want to run down five flights of stairs again when the next quake hits.

And I’m wondering, honestly, how much more of this I can take. Crazy drivers I can deal with. Mexican bureaucracy, ok. But earthquakes? I don’t want to die in a stairwell, crushed by a falling wall. For the first time, I thought seriously about moving back to the States.

There are earthquakes there, too, though. And I don’t want to be afraid of something that may not happen. I’ll probably start looking at apartments when I get back from my trip to New York next week, which I was planning to do anyway. Now I have a bigger excuse.

Mexico vs. California Earthquakes

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We had an earthquake last night. It happened in the middle of the night — I was sleeping when suddenly I heard the house creak, and some rustling sounds. Then our apartment started to gently sway, like a swing being pushed by the wind.

At first I thought: should I get under the desk in my office?

Then I thought: hey. This is actually kind of nice, as far as earthquakes go.

I know it’s a ridiculous thing to say, because a much stronger earthquake here in 1985 destroyed much of the city and caused thousands of casualties. I’m not being cavalier here and saying that earthquakes don’t matter. I’m aware of what nature is capable of.

But a Mexico City earthquake, up to this point in my life, has been much easier to handle than a Southern California earthquake. The latter starts out with a sharp rattle. It immediately wakes you up — or at least, it woke me up as a kid — and then, before you can even get out of bed, the shaking gets harder, faster. It’s like being a spider stuck in a jar, owned by a giant child. At any minute he’s going to toss you to the other side of the house.

Mexico City earthquakes, on the other hand, ripple and undulate. You’re not sure immediately if it’s you that’s moving or the house.

In fact, the first time I experienced an earthquake here, shortly after swine flu, I thought I had come down with a bout of dizziness. Took me a good five seconds to realize: wait. I don’t have dizziness-induced swine flu. Crap, this is an earthquake. Then I ran out the door, my heart pounding. (Note: not a good idea.)

Of course, the worst thing about any earthquake, gentle shakes or no, is that we really don’t know how bad it’s going to get. Will it be a 5.5? An 8.5? Will our apartment building be structurally sound enough to handle it? I’ve heard that after the 1985 quake, new apartment buildings were built with extra earthquake protection measures. But you really just never know.

In any case, I’d much rather experience that terror while swaying and undulating, rather than erratic rattling and shaking. Give me Patrick Swayze over Joan Crawford any day.

*Photo above is of damage from an unknown quake, not last night’s minor quake in Mexico. Swiped it from a website about Bible prophecies.

First swine flu and now earthquakes?

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I was IM’ing with a friend a few minutes ago when suddenly the house started swaying. I thought I was getting dizzy. I.e., OH CRAP, I THINK THE SWINE FLU FINALLY HIT ME.

Nope. It was an earthquake. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m getting the hell out of this house.

As a side note, the quake did wake up my street. It’s been deathly quiet all morning, and now people are outside talking.

Update: El Universal says the quake was centered northeast of Guerrero. Still no word on injuries/deaths/material damage. However, I am loving the comments on El Universal’s story. Two faves:

“Ay no manchen. Que sigue?? Mañana van a llover ranas.”
You’ve got to be kidding me. What’s next? Tomorrow it’s going to rain toads.

“Qué sigue?? El Popocatepetlzaso??”
What’s next? Popocatepetl’s gigantic eruption-disaster?

Off to paint now. Much more calm than earlier.