Typhoon Soulik

“Typhoon grass” is a knee- to thigh-high, wide-bladed wild grass that grows in forests at lower and middle elevations in Taiwan. It is a very sturdy grass, with prominent ribs running parallel to its axis. The feature that gives it is name are faint markings traversing across the blade, like folds in the grass. The first time I was introduced to it, I was told to count the lines and that’s would be the number of tropical storms that would pass over Chiayi. When I came up with a dozen and a half after counting the ribs, I was then taught to count the traversing lines, which was the proper method of meteorological storm predictions.

Before coming to Taiwan, the only encounter I had every had with a tropical storm was in 1972, when Hurricane Agnes passed through Florida while my family and I played Monopoly in a trailer just outside Orlando during our trip to Disney World. Though I didn’t know it at the time, Mom and Dad had thought that it would have been a better idea to bunker down for the day than to try to outrun the storm. I remembered their worried looks every time a gust rocked the caravan, as well as the tractor trailers flipped over on the sides of I-95 the next day on our drive back to Jersey. A few years later, on a trip to Hersheypark, I saw a seven-foot high line on a wall at the entrance of a roller coaster noting the height of the flood waters from the same Hurricane Agnes. I imagined myself treading water amongst all these attractions and realizing that I couldn’t ride them.

Since most typhoons come from the east and are dampened by the Central Taiwan Mountain Range, Chiayi City, does not suffer as much as other areas of the island, like the mountainous regions of Chiayi County east of us. After twenty-eight years in Taiwan, typhoons, if anything, are an inconvenience. If it arrives on a weekday, my wife complains about how we have to close the school and lose money, while I prefer to look at the glass half full and point out that we didn’t actually lose anything, just didn’t make any money. That’s when she usually turns around and walks away shaking her head. Though I am the beneficiary of an unexpected day-off, I am not really delighted. At least with snow days when I was a kid, I could go out and enjoy the weather. Instead, I get to watch old movies on TV or read on Facebook how teachers new to the island are getting excited or were disappointed by the typhoon.

Four days before Typhoon Soulik hit us this past weekend, new reports from western agencies were predicting the catastrophic destruction it would bring. “Typhoon Soulik Could Devastate Taiwan” ran one headline. Local broadcasters replayed clips from American news programs predicting the impending crushing onslaught of nature, as if to say, “Hey, Mom, look, I made the Sunday papers.” On Saturday morning, local reporters fanned out across the island for stories of the wreckage Soulik had left. One female correspondent found a traffic light dangling precariously at an isolated intersection in a flat rural area and, in that atypical hysterical voice that young Taiwanese women often use, exclaimed how “frightening” the situation was. However, the cab driver she interviewed said that it would not be a problem until it became a problem, namely, when it actually fell onto the middle of the road, which it did not as he proceeded through the intersection.

Here in Chiayi, we escaped any real damage. On Saturday morning, the rain had subsided, but there were still gusts swaying trees. A few broken tree limbs could be seen in New Chiayi Park and a sign or two had been damaged. The worst destruction of the night was caused by a car accident just opposite the park. A white sedan had apparently lost control on the curve leading to the intersection of Nanjing Road and Shinyeh Road and plowed in a cell phone shop on the corner. Though the winds were gusting rather high, it was evident from the force of the impact that high speed and slick roads were the cause. A pile of debris piled in front of the destroyed gate prevented anyone from entering the shop and helping themselves to some Samsungs or Motorolas. Two dented and scratched doors from the sedan under shattered display cases were the only remains of the car. The mangled shop gate shuttered and clanged occasionally in the wind.

My intention is not to belittle the carnage and tragedy that’s this terrible force of nature unleashes. Soulik caused terrible damage to the north of the island and “wreaked havoc” (a favorite broadcasting description) for businessmen and vacationers hoping to take international flights. In contrast to their A.M. broadcasts, Saturday evening’s news showed cars crushed under trees, roofs turned into twisted slats of metal and landslides coming to rest just meters from residents’ backyards. Thousands were evacuated, hundreds rescued, just over a hundred injured and 3 dead.

The fact is that Taiwan is used to this kind of stuff. The Taiwanese know to stay indoors and lock the dog in the bathroom instead of taking it out for a walk in the middle of a storm. They get home before the weather turns bad and listen to the authorities when told they are in a danger zone and need to be evacuated. And this is why I can’t understand why so many American Northeasterners died from falling trees or carbon monoxide poisoning when Sandy hit last year. They are told how to prepare for blizzards the same way Taiwanese, and for that matter, Floridians are told to prepare for tropical storms. Hurricanes and blizzards are basically the same thing; it’s just a difference of degrees. I wonder what New Yorkers are going to do when the big earthquake hits.