The surreal and Cubist world of Guam after Typhoon Mawar
Trees are white, as if shocked into paleness by the fierce winds of Typhoon Mawar, stripped naked and shamed by the assault of violent rain. Driving is confusing - the landscape looks familiar and strange at the same time. Some of the usual landmarks are gone. It is like my home, or my intended destination, is playing hide and seek. It is there still. But it is not how I used to find it. Inside, my house is clean, and comfortable. But I bump into things in the dark. I have to navigate hampers full of dirty laundry. Pots and bowls with water collected before the typhoon, and buckets of rain water. Familiar objects not used as intended and not in their usual place. All the plumbing and light fixtures work. But for now, they are all purely ornamental. Outdoors, a giant malevolent hand knocked down even the tallest and strongest. Flotsam and jetsam everywhere, but switched up. I have my neighbors’ and they have mine. I like things to be sorted and aligned. (I surreptitiously organize shelv...