Otis: the difference between suspecting there were more dead people and actually proving it.

By Sandra Romandía

In the circular hall, a sudden and improvised shelter, people stopped talking. We held our breath for a moment when we heard the first bang that burst the windows of the building. It was the night of Tuesday, October 24, 2023, and less than an hour had passed since some 60 people, including myself, managed to take shelter at the last minute in that space of the Hotel Pierre Marqués Acapulco, in the Punta Diamante area of the port of Guerrero. Thanks to the vehicles that transported us and to the hotel staff that warned us about the risks of staying in our rooms -by then without electricity and water-, we reached that bastion.

The clock was past 11 p.m. and, like everyone else, I expected the hurricane to make landfall between 5 and 6 a.m., according to the scarce information provided by the federal authority. But no. That bursting of the glass, the blowing of objects against everything, the sea raging against roofs, palm trees, walls, and everything you can imagine, did not seem to indicate that it would be so many hours before the eye of the hurricane would arrive.

-How strong is a hurricane five?" a miner asked his colleague with derision. They had arrived from the north of the country two days earlier to attend the XXXV International Mining Convention Mexico 2023, held in Acapulco. The question hung in the air, mixed with the uncertainty that was already beginning to be palpable in every corner of the room.