By Zaldy Dandan – Variety Editor
WE have been battered by another super typhoon — the third to make landfall in just over a decade — but most of us are safe, though a few were injured. We are moving on. The only way out is through.
As in previous disasters, some are again pontificating after the fact on what should have been done before Sinlaku pummeled the islands. More objective observers, however, are likely to concede that no one could have fully anticipated the fresh horrors a super typhoon could unleash in its wake. Jean (April 1968), Soudelor (Aug. 2015), Yutu (Oct. 2018), and now Sinlaku (April 2026) were different beasts, each with its own way of ravaging the islands.
By now, we should acknowledge the immense difficulty of responding quickly while a super typhoon stalls over the islands. (The governor’s “all-clear” announcement came three days after Sinlaku plowed through Saipan and Tinian.) We may also have forgotten that a “shelter-in-place” advisory applied to emergency responders as well.
The last warning Variety posted in the early evening of April 14, before we lost power, read: “Eye of Super Typhoon Sinlaku nearing Saipan and Tinian; shelter in place; extreme wind warning in effect — take action now to protect your life.”
A local resident told us it was the most terrifying weather alert he had ever read.
Clearly, it could have been worse. Here is the report from the TT-era District Digest regarding the first super typhoon to make landfall on Saipan since the early 20th century:
It was impossible for anyone to accept that a storm could be much worse than Typhoon Jean, which pounded Saipan with winds of up to 190 mph on Thursday, April 11, completely changing the face of the island.
Jean destroyed ninety percent of the island’s housing [and] only [Capital] Hill’s implacable concrete residences escaped serious injury.
Jean hopelessly mangled the island’s utilities [and] paralyzed [the] school system…. Although no lives were lost, many were changed. The whole complexion of life on Saipan became more grim and somber. Hard-hit villages like Chalan Kanoa, San Antonio, San Roque, Tanapag, Susupe, once crowded and bustling, were transformed into hot plains of tangled wire, twisted metal, damp, smelly wood. Punctured tires and feet were commonplace, water a precious commodity, cold water a sought-after prize. Families doubled up, cooked out of doors, picked among the wreckage, hung things out to dry. The lucky ones — that is, those who could recover enough 2-by-4s to start work — began nailing away. Others looked at their splintered homesteads and shrugged….
In the aftermath of Sinlaku, it is evident that the government, many businesses, and households have learned the hard lessons of Soudelor and Yutu in terms of preparedness, including the timely release of critical information. But Sinlaku was simply too relentless and vicious.
Still, when the Emergency Operations Center itself was practically shut down by the typhoon, the office of Delegate King-Hinds picked up the baton and provided updates — even as internet connections failed or slowed to a snail’s pace.
We also know this: federal response may not be as quick as any of us would like, but we should be mindful of the review process involved and the certainty of eventual assistance.
In the meantime, many of us are understandably irritated, upset, or impatient with the recovery process. But that, too, shows the sheer force of the disaster we have just survived. We must keep our composure. We must help one another.
And perhaps this is not yet the time to remind ourselves that we’re not even in typhoon season.
Zaldy Dandan is the recipient of the NMI Society of Professional Journalists’ Best in Editorial Writing Award and the NMI Humanities Award for Outstanding Contributions to Journalism. His four books are available on amazon.com/.
