Sometimes an emergency is a wake up call… I can honestly say I am very much aware of climate change and its consequences. I have never denied it, and read a good deal about it. The question, though, is: Am I prepared? I never gave that question much thought. Until last night…
It has been a very, very hot summer in The Netherlands. I hated the extreme heat, but drank lots of water and dealt with it. My beautiful garden survived, thanks to my loving care. I watered the plants when needed with water from my rain barrel, until that ran out and I had to use tap water. Only if and when absolutely necessary, of course.
As I wrote in my last blog, my Mediterranean plants thrived: beautiful Coeur de Boeuf tomatoes, eggplants, olives, figs and an enormous amount of grapes, which are sweet and delicious. It is a small comfort in light of the weather horrors, of course, but I’ll take it.
And then the rain came… nothing happened, no roof calamities. In the first dry week after the rains, the roofer came to install new roof windows on the section of my house that has a flat roof. Shortly after starting his work, he called me and told me the roof was in terrible condition; he took photos of the problem areas where he was working, so he could prove the leakages that were to be expected weren’t his fault. When the work was done, he offered two options: fix the upper layer of roof covering, or replace the roof completely. I asked him to send me a quotation for a new roof. I would have to take out a loan, but The Netherlands has a service called ‘Warmtefonds’ which lends money for climate adaptation measures against very good conditions.
The roof held. No leaks. Until last night. There was a downpour of the extreme kind that we are just getting used to. I wanted to go to bed and had to be in the bathroom… My first thought was that the faucet was leaking, because the small towels next to it were soaking wet. As was the marble top of my beautiful old bathroom cabinet. After drying everything, I felt for a leak in the faucet. Nothing.
But then. Drip. Nothing. Drip. It finally dawned on me: the leakage came from the newly installed roof window. As the downpour did not subside, I entered a full-blown panic attack. What if the whole roof collapses… I will be on vacation in ten days from now… what if it keeps raining all the time? I suddenly didn’t feel the safety of my house anymore. It could all vanish, just like that.
Amidst my doom fantasies, I remembered what – most recently – happened in Tibet, where probably thousands of people have drowned due to floods caused by climate change. And then I thought of the thousands of Ukrainians who not only lost their homes because of Russia bombing civilian targets, but often also family members. And the people in Gaza, who have nothing to return to; the Palestinians in the occupied West Bank, who are driven from their homes by settler terrorists… And … and … and.
It did not exactly allay my fears, but it made me understand how brave and resilient these people must be… and I realised how completely unprepared I am for real calamities. Not a comforting thought, but it brought everything into perspective.
So, instead of giving in to fear and (self)loathing, I waited for a break in the rain, put on my shoes and rain coat, got the ladder, a broom and a tarp from the shed. Suppressing my fear of heights, I climbed the ladder, swept as much water as possible toward the drainpipe at the edge of the roof, and carefully spread the tarp over the leaking roof window.
The leakage didn’t stop, but diminished to a manageable amount. I went to bed and – contrary to my expectation – slept like a log until early this morning. Luckily, I was just in time to empty the small container I place under the leak.
I am still utterly unprepared for a real big world calamity. But at least I know now.
Manja Ressler's Blog 