Tsunami? Maybe.

Last week’s tsunami scare: Whazzzup with that?

On that memorable Thursday, I was just debating whether six o’clock high was too late for one last cup of caffeinated coffee (and decided is was). Just then I got a phone call with ominous news. A tsunami was on the way!

Maybe.

So–-head for the hills!

Maybe.

My famous encyclopedic knowledge failed me, alas, and I was at a stuttering loss for how to react to a tsunami, or, more to the point, a maybe tsunami.

I can only puzzle out a problem with a cup of coffee in my hand, so I fired up Mr. Coffee.

Typhoons, of course, are a rote drill for us. And, as they approach–or don’t approach–we can behave accordingly. When you decide to yank the steaks from the fridge and cook them up, you’ve determined that the ‘phoon is probably going to knock you around, so you might as well chow down before the electricity is lost and that tender Angus beef goes spoiled. At that point, you’re officially braced for impact. You’ve already gassed up the cars, saved up some water and food and beer, you had the wife keep the kids busy and out of trouble, and you telephoned the mistress and ensured she’s ok.

You can see and sense a typhoon moving in, so there’s reassurance with mother nature’s tangible character. This nothing tsunami, though, had no observable manifestations. Maybe it was out there. Maybe not. There was nothing to see or not see. There was no way to tell.

Furthermore, if it did smack us, I had no idea what kind of damage I could reasonably expect. Would everything below the crown of Mount Tagpochau be washed into the sea? Or would the hermit crabs on the beaches be the only critters imperiled?

I finally figured that we were OK, since KMCV’s television news came on. If the newsies weren’t heading for the hills, then we were safe. Of course, the Nauru building is so ugly, no self-respecting tsunami would touch it.

Fresh java in hand, I went back to work, and smugly ignored the whole tsunami thing.

Accounts from my pals after the fact, though, proved that a spot of panic was in evidence in some places. Some people, evidently, headed for the hills on foot. Hmmm. Was that rational behavior? Or was it herd-mentality panic, result of the primal fight or flight gig? I suspect the latter, but I don’t know.

In any event, though we’re experts at typhoons, maybe we need some schooling in the tsunami businesses. Just what kind of threat do they really pose to our fair rock? I’ve got no idea. I’ve never heard of one hitting us, but I’m no historian–-I can’t even remember what I had for lunch today.

Maybe some enterprising soul at the Emergency Management Office could give the ignoramuses in the general public (that’s me) some kind of threat analysis of the tsunami thing. Barring that, it would be a great project for a student at NMC. Either way, if such an endeavor is tackled, please let me know.

Until then, I’m ignoring the tsunami warnings, because I don’t havesufficient understanding of the threat they represent. So, next time around, don’t head for the hills. Come on over to my place. We’ll have some coffee.

Stephens is an economist with Stephens Corporation, a professional organization in the NMI. His column appears three times a week: Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. Mr. Stephens can be contacted via the following e-mail address: ed4Saipan@yahoo.com.