surviving the tsunami

Yesterday morning, I was lazily dragging myself out of bed, attempting to begin the morning rush of getting ready for work when an earthquake hit.  It took a minute for me to recognize it was an earthquake, but eventually we stood in the door frames (funny how that training from elementary school comes back to you!) to wait out the quake.  Having just gone through a tsunami warning a few months ago, I assumed that we needed to get to higher ground.  As we left the house, I tried to call everyone on the island to tell them to head to higher ground.  I couldn't get through to anyone!

As we headed up the mountain, the radio announcers said that there was no tsunami warning in effect.  I felt a bit foolish for rushing off so quickly and was thankful that I hadn't been the crazy person sounding the alarm without a warning in effect.  Immediately after the announcers said there was no warning, someone called in saying that the ocean in Faga'alu had quickly dropped and that people were running for high ground.  A few minutes later, the announcers were yelling that there was a tsunami hitting their building.  I listened to the panic and chaos over the air until the radio station cut off.

The kids and I had driven up the road to Aloau.  We met some friends there and hung out for hours until the warning was lifted.  I figured I had nothing better to do than make sure I stayed alive.  Other than a sunburn (me) and some minor swordfighting injuries (the boys), we were safe and sound during the entire ordeal. In  spite of the fact that my house is on a peninsula and the ground floor is only 5 feet above sea level, it was fine too.