Reference no: EM133262489

Although the Storm Blows

Amanda Lopez

Tiny, gold, cheap, and probably made in China. That would be the physical description of a little coqui pin I wear when I can bear to look at it. I bought it on the morning of November 3rd, 2017, in San Juan International Airport. A cheap trinket for tourists to give to someone as a last minute gift from their trip to sunny Puerto Rico. I found it while wandering around aimlessly that morning in the airport terminal with my mother, trying to keep ourselves occupied during the long wait for our flight to New York. We were finally escaping the hell that was breaking out on the island after Hurricane Maria left my homeland destroyed and dangerous to stay in.

A duty-free shop was our first stop that morning, my mother looking for some rum to take to her sisters as a gift. The shop attendant was a tiny, nerdy looking girl with thick glasses and pigtails, which made me wonder if she was even old enough to sell liquor. My mother didn't think twice to ask her for a recommendation, and this girl started to whip out bottles of everything she had for us to try. She told us all about her favorite cocktails and I realized she was a bit of a party animal as she got us drunk with shots of Bacardi and DonQ. We were more than happy to accept this, as my mother and I were nervous about the trip ahead (and neither of us would dare say no to free booze). We did leave once she started bringing out bottles of expensive scotch, still sober enough to know that flying while completely wasted wasn't a great idea.

The next stop (that I can remember with the alcohol in my system) was the gift shop. Among the flags, mugs and t-shirts was a bowl filled with different pins. Among them I found this little gold one in the shape of a coqui, a tiny frog native to Puerto Rico, that is famous for its singing at night. The thing was tacky and I wouldn't have looked twice at it before, but I was sentimental and still drunk, so I took it as a reminder of my home. I really wanted a plushy of a coqui instead, but I didn't have enough cash on me and bank card readers were still not working, so my debit card was as good as useless. We got our things and boarded that plane to what we thought was salvation. I can still remember being completely silent as the plane made its ascent, but screaming like hell inside my head. I didn't want to leave.

When I look at it now, one scene in particular comes to mind. A few days after the hurricane hit, and after we were forced by the government and US military to evacuate our homes, when we were staying in the gym of a Boys and Girls Club, I went looking for my mom outside. It wasn't too late into the night, but it was so dark that if you wandered away far enough from the diesel-powered generators you wouldn't be able to see your own nose on your face. I was hoping to find her and get a few puffs of one of her awful tasting Ashford cigarettes before she finished it. I found her by following a tiny orange light that hovered at about her height. She was looking at her cellphone when I got to her, which was odd. There was no phone service or any other kind of communication in any part of the island. We were completely cut off from the rest of the world, and at this point any hope for a cellphone being useful was foolish. I asked her what she was doing, and she said recording the sounds. She told me to listen very carefully. I did, but besides the generators, there was nothing. She again told me to listen for something that I hadn't heard in a long time.

When I concentrated, I heard it. Coquis, a lot of them. It was almost deafening, but I didn't notice it at first because this was something I grew up with. For years, their numbers had declined, causing fears that they were in danger of being wiped out. This night, though, you would never be able to guess they had any trouble. I felt wrapped in a blanket of their calls, a feeling that took me back to when I was a little girl. My mom just looked at me and said, "See? They're alive. We're alive. We're still here." I didn't know what to say, tears starting to fill my eyes but I willed myself not to let them spill. There was no time to cry right now, our only option was to stay strong and carry on. It would be a lie to say that her words didn't have an effect on me, though. By then we realized how bad things were, and no one knew how we would get out of this situation, but she was right. We're here. We're alive.

For weeks after that I would see and feel how bad things were, and how good things could be, but the constant would be the sounds at night. These little frogs thriving in the destruction of everything, coming back from the brink after what felt like the end of the world. They were small, but loud and determined to keep living, and it felt like that was the Puerto Rican spirit then. We are so small, we were so hurt, but we would get out of this somehow, we would live! I was never one to give much thought to feeling pride in where I came from, but in those moments, I learned what it felt like to love a place and people more than words can ever say.

It's been two years since those days, and I can't always look at this pin. There are months at a time where I keep it tucked away somewhere in my jewelry box, because I know I'll want to throw it against a wall. There's a lot of pain associated with those memories of life after Hurricane Maria. There are other times when I get nostalgic for those times in the dark, reminiscing with my parents about our lives because we had nothing but each other's company, listening to the night's creatures sing and dream of better times and the future. It's a strange feeling to miss such a horrible time, but there are so many moments I'm fond of in those horrible months.

for this short assignment, you'll enter into the text box. As always, I recommend that you save your work offline or to the cloud and paste in here. These are thinking questions for the text you just read.

Question 1: What is the main idea or claim of the text?

Question 2: What are two different ways in which the speaker supports the main idea?

Question 3: How does the speaker establish ethos in the text?

Question 4: How does the speaker appeal to reason (logos)?

Question 5: How does the speaker appeal to emotion (pathos)?

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Question 7: What is one rhetorical device used in the text, and what do you think it does? (E.g. metaphor, hyperbole, alliteration...)

Question 8: How would you describe the text overall? Would you recommend it to a friend? Did it hold your interest? Why or why not?