All Shook Up

It’s the morbid truth of life—As humans, we can literally be squashed like bugs at any given moment. Compared to the forces of nature, we’re fragile, small, and rather insignificant. Ten days ago, I found myself smack in the middle of Mexico City, just in time for that big-ass earthquake you may have heard about. It’s taken almost 10 days for the surplus adrenaline in my veins to metabolize so that I can finally sit down and calmly reflect on what happened.

On September 19th, I had a whopping 8 hour layover at the Mexico City International Airport. If you’ve been there, you’ll know how bad that airport sucks. It’s almost as bad as LAX was a couple of years ago. Like any sane human I decided to leave the airport during my extended layover. Where would I go? For a man if my refined high-culture sensibilities, the choice was easy—I’d go see that new Stephen King horror flick—”It.” And I’d see it in the best part of town, at Plaza Insurgentes in the Roma Norte/Condesa area of Mexico City.

Roma Norte/Condesa is a fantastic neighborhood. There’s a great park with tall trees, lots of neato older buildings, vibrant life in the streets, and endless supply of great restaurants to visit. It has an overall unpretentious and down-to-earth vibe unlike many other large cities, and it also feels unmolested by global commerce—I don’t recall seeing a Nike or Apple store anywhere.

So it was to be a viewing of “It” and maybe a late lunch by the park. Needless to say my innocent-enough plan would live in infamy. “It” started out about as well as you could expect it to—dang scary. Right after Pennywise made his grand entrance (no spoilers) I felt a modest shaking through the floor. This wimpy 3.0 earthquake would surely pass, I thought, and I could finish the movie. Others were far less amused—they ran out of the theater screaming. Flighty folks, they were.

Then, the quake unleashed its full seismic fury.

Okay, time to get up, I thought. Where was my urgency? I walked. Others ran. Seeing their reactions, I picked up the pace. The building shook with brutal force.It groaned and shuddered. Lights flickered. Loud bangs. Thuds. Things breaking. Then, panic sets in. I can’t walk very fast. My heart won’t allow it. Gotta catch my breath. Watch for falling objects, that’s my biggest threat. No desks to get under. I’ll stand next to a pillar. Yup. That’s what I’ll do.

“GET OUT!” (or the spanish equivalent, yelled)The security guard wasn’t kidding. Who was this stupid gringo standing next to a pillar?

I listened, and walked briskly toward the idle escalator. I went down the steps, into a department store. A woman in front of me knocked over a display. As she stopped to pick it up, another spanish equivalent of “GET OUT” came from the security guard. We hustled our way out into the streets.

My arrival to the streets was tardy. The entire populous of the area was already there, fully assembled, fully panicked. There was none of that post-earthquake casualness you’d see in LA after a temblor. No joking and laughing. Lots of tears. Lots of fear. Lots of confusion. What should I do? Where should I go? Why are people running this way? Should I run with them?

Seeing that practically every building around me was in some form of disrepair—broken windows, collapsed fascias, fallen tiles—I decided to make my way to Parque Mexico, where there was less falling debris and less chance of being trampled. It was only a few blocks away. After some amateur attempts at photojournalism, I put the phone in airplane mode to preserve juice. Then I arrived at the park.

Inside Parque Mexico I’d find more fear and confusion. More tears. More running. I saw a man frantically calling a loved one’s name, over and over, as he ran through the park, searching. I wasn’t the only one seeking refuge there, Mexico City’s miniature Central Park was probably at capacity. Nobody wanted to stand next to a building. Trees are better for that. They bend, but don’t break.

I managed to talk to a Canadian and a few Americans in the crowd. One showed me pictures of a fully collapsed building nearby. Later on, I’d learn there were numerous spontaneous demolitions all around the park, I just didn’t witness any directly. And I wasn’t looking to. I did, however, see one building with a its first floor pancaked, one five+ story building that was leaning to one side, and numerous buildings that were severely damaged, though still standing.

Being completely alone, I felt an urgency to get into a safe spot. I knew I was going to miss my connecting flight back to LA—that was a given—so I needed lodging. But I wasn’t about to stay in one of the more traditionally-built structures of Mexico City, no way. So I headed toward Reforma, the financial, or “downtown” part of Mexico City, hoping to find a vacant room in a modern hotel. When I say modern, I mean mostly steel.

On my way over to Reforma I saw a more damaged buildings, and many more scared, confused people. One sight that I’ll never forget was a herd of people standing in line at a small hardware store. They were buying up all the hammers, chisels, and hard-hats in stock. I saw several groups of these grass-roots rescue crews on their way to help dig survivors out of collapsed buildings. Although touched by their own courage, I had no urge to follow them. I wanted to get safe, then get home.

An improvised hospital triage in a park was the last horrific thing I saw before checking into the Hotel Marquis Reforma. I actually saw a photo of that scene on the internet days later when I was back in LA.

How did all of this make me feel? Beyond feeling obviously lucky I came out of it unscathed, I was pretty rattled. I’ve been through earthquakes, and other harrowing experiences, but this was my first time seeing the effects of widespread panic in a large city. That’s what haunted me the most—the feeling of impending doom, total lack of order, general lawlessness, confusion, and overall fear. I have a new respect for that feeling. At any given moment, it’s happening somewhere. I can only imagine it’s far worse in a warzone, somewhere like Syria for example.

The following may sound a corny: I’m glad I was there. The experience reminded me how fragile life is. So, I’m going to try live a little better now, meaning, I’m going to be try to be nicer to strangers, more present with family, friends and loved ones. I’m also going to be practice having a more positive internal monologue (be less hard on myself), eat better, wake up earlier, get angry less, etc.  

So, how about another earthquake? No, thank you. I’m fine.