The inhabitants of the school
After Hurricane Georges devastated Puerto Rico, this family lost their home and all their belongings. In order to have a roof over their heads, they turned to a closed school where they have been living for the past two decades. Despite the many challenges they have faced, including a lack of access to clean drinking water and electricity, they have made it their home. (Leer en Español)
Story and photographs by Yadira Hernández-Picó
That morning it was impossible to resist the pleasant temperature, the deep blue sky, and that delicate golden light that is typical during the Christmas season. The ideal conditions to risk an adventure, camera in hand, through the countryside of Maricao, a town embedded in the mountains in western Puerto Rico. To get there, one has to drive along a serpentine road that crosses the Central Mountain Range.
The trip with no pre-determined route, on narrow, curvy roads winding between mountains and foliage that became taller and more oppressive the higher I went, was interrupted by the unmistakable odor of coolant which made it necessary to stop the car immediately! The first option to consider would be to call for a towing service, which would cost an arm and a leg because of the distance, and surely it would be impossible to pinpoint my location in this remote spot.
As I journeyed further, the houses dwindled behind me until all that remained was a skeletal structure of walls in a dull green hue, an old gate that had rusted over, and a dilapidated car. Suddenly, a white dog emerged from the ruins, followed by a man and a woman who offered their assistance. The man, Ramón Santos Figueroa, introduced himself as a mechanic and strode towards our smoking vehicle. His mother, Blanca Figueroa, kindly invited me into their home.
The Santos Figueroa family lost their home and possessions during Hurricane Georges, on September 21, 1998. The storm also caused damage to the Noel Molini school in the Indiera Alta neighborhood of Maricao, resulting in its closure. The family has since made their home in three of the school's four classrooms, which they transformed with limited resources and a lot of imagination. They added a kitchen and later a living room to complete their living quarters.
What was once the school cafeteria, its walls painted with flowers and butterflies are now only silhouettes, empty and without a roof.
There, the same dog that preceded the inhabitants of the school restes and sunbathes.
Going through the front door to the room that was converted into Blanca’s home reveals a festival of colors, flowers, and shiny little ceramic figurines that are everywhere. Besides, domestic electrical appliances necessary to modern life are observed, such as a refrigerator, microwave, television set, and also a radio without realizing at that particular moment that they have lived there for about 20 years with no minimal basic services of electricity and potable water. When they get sick, they must be prepared to drive along continuous curvy roads for more than an hour in order to receive medical attention.
The impeccable cleanliness, the colorful atmosphere, and the visual abundance of Blanca Figueroa's home make the contrast with the surrounding necessity even more evident.
Blanca Figueroa, 67, was widowed one rainy afternoon when the Jeep her husband was driving fell into a ravine. Every morning at 8, or “when the car starts” and goes to the Bartolo sector to buy bread and ice. The trip to Bartolo, where the closest establishment is located that sells essential articles, is only 40 minutes away by car. The closest gas station is in Castañer (Lares) or Maricao at about one hour distance.
“At ten in the morning , I cook the food for the whole day on a gas stove and heat some water for bathing, if not, I do it in the sun. I pray and light a candle to the Virgin of Miracles every day at five in the afternoon, not only because it’s a religious custom, but also it’s a source of light when the day ends. I am already in bed at six and by seven or eight I go to sleep because what else am I going to do? Once the Mayor (of Maricao) sent us an electric generator so we would vote for him, but three or four days after the elections, they took it back again.”
One of the most common episodes in the daily life of the family matriarch is “moving” into the same house:
“I clean and change things around to entertain myself. I move the furniture, I disarm and put the shelves back together again and move the figurines from one place to another… that’s how I entertain myself to pass the time.”
Every day at five in the afternoon, Blanca lights a candle that serves a double purpose: as a devotion to the Virgin of Miracles and as a source of illumination, as she still lacks electricity.
A broken fridge is used to store rice and other food supplies.
Blanca puts the ice that she buys daily in a small refrigerator “to drink cold juice or keep just a little of meat, because it spoils, that I buy when I go to the supermarket once a month”.
Neyda Esteba has four children, of whom she has not heard from for a long time, and insists on telling me and showing their photos in case I run into them. Her two daughters are named Yesenia and Yahaira, and if she had a third one she would name her Yadira “the same as you!”, Neyda assures.
Thanks to Ramón's temporary fix as a mechanic, I was able to make the long journey back. Before leaving, he kindly offered me a delicious cup of coffee and fresh fruits and vegetables from their farm. Most importantly, they taught me a valuable lesson about the hospitality, hope, and strength of those with very little. I'm constantly amazed by their resilience.
The greetings and farewells are always the same in the visits following that unforgettable first encounter: “Do not forget us!” Never.
Steps from the school is a skeleton of a church, also in ruins. According to them, it is where the ancient owner of the property was married, and an open mass was offered to the community every Sunday.