Which is more damaging: Hurricane, or typhoon, or cyclone?

It is not the meteorology in which I am interested.

All these are natural events.  And, yes, human activities warming up the world have added power to them.

But, a natural event by itself is merely a natural event.  It is the equivalent of the old philosophical question on whether a tree falling in a forest makes a sound if there is nobody to hear it.  These natural events become "disasters" and "catastrophes" only because they affect us humans.

So, in such a framework, which is the more damaging event?

Consider one of those tropical storms making landfall where no humans live.  It will, of course, uproot trees and flood the rivers.  Is there any damage?

Now, consider one of those tropical storms making landfall in one of the sparsely populated islands in the Philippines.  And then imagine if a storm goes through the Bangladeshi coast.  The number of humans who will be affected will be vastly different, right?

Does it matter that the average Bangladeshi is poorer than the typical Filipino?

Now consider a hurricane hitting the southeastern coast of the US.  Does the "disaster" become costlier because the typical American and the property are way more "expensive"?

One doesn't even need to look beyond Wikipedia for this:

The costs of disasters vary considerably depending on a range of factors, such as the geographical location where they occur. When a disaster occurs in a densely populated area in a wealthy country, the financial damage might be huge, but when a comparable disaster occurs in a densely populated area in a poorer country, the actual financial damage might be relatively small, in part due to a lack of insurance. For example, the 2004 Indian Ocean earthquake and tsunami, with a death toll of over 230,000 people, cost a 'mere' $15 billion,^[1] whereas in the Deepwater Horizon oil spill, in which 11 people died, the damages were six-fold.

This is an issue that I have struggling with ever since my graduate school days: The "cost" of life varies.  It boggles my mind.  In that Wiki example, a quarter million people perished, but the "cost" of the disaster was low because it all happened in the emerging economies.

It is such economic logic that led Larry Summers, back when he was the World Bank's chief economist, to write that controversial memo, from which he later back-pedaled saying it was a thought experiment and was sarcastic.  That memo joked about the low earnings in emerging economies leading to the "cost" of pollution being lower there and, therefore, polluting industries should migrate to those poorer countries.  In reality, isn't that how the world has operated over the past three decades?

Rich people's lives and property are valued more than poor people's lives are.  As long as this framework does not change, the "costliest" natural disasters will happen only in rich countries.

Therefore, cyclones are the "cheapest" of those storms!

Such is life.

"Driver Chacha" and I, and the cosmos. All about life ... and death

The cellphone text message informed me that I will be met by "Driver Chacha" at the Aurangabad station, and that he will carry a sign with my name on it.  Another bit of detail about him: doesn't speak English.

Over the years, I have gotten used to having delightful conversations with taxi drivers who speak little to no English. (But then perhaps my students also think that I speak little to no English, eh!)  Even after all these years, I can still picture in my mind the taxi driver in Italy who took us to a quaint restaurant outside of Florence.  I knew no Italian, while he at least knew a few words in English through which he described "beautiful California."  I was excited he had been to California, which is where I lived back then.  "No, saw on TV" he replied.

I got off at Aurangabad after the train stopped there at pre-dawn hours.  There was an older man, a couple of inches even shorter than me, holding a piece of paper that said "Mr. Sriram."  Aha, this was Driver Chacha!  He had on a white Islamic skullcap, and gave me a polite smile as I stopped beside him.

Over the two days, we "talked" a lot as he drove me to the fantastic destinations that I had planned on visiting.  Sometimes, Driver Chacha suggested we go to a certain touristy place, and we did even if I told him I was not keen on it.  He was hell bent on making sure I had a great time. 

"Ellora ke paas ek mandir hai (near Ellora is a temple)" is all I understood before he added a lot more in Hindi.  I told him that I didn't want to go to Shirdi--I worried we were going to make some serious detours and end up skipping things from my list. 

He smiled big time.  "Shirdi nahin. Ellora se dho kilometer ... (Not Shirdi.  Two kilometers from Ellora.)

It was quite an interesting scene: a Muslim driver keen on taking an atheist to a Hindu temple. 

I left my shoes and socks and backpack behind in the car, and walked with my camera to the temple entrance.  Of course, there was a board that made it clear that taking photos was not allowed.  "Can I take photos from the outside?" I asked the security guy there and invited his scathing look and a harsh negation. 

I wanted to head back to the car, but went in only because Driver Chacha was so keen on me going there.

Am glad I did, though.  For the first time in my life, I saw devotees performing the puja themselves, without going through an intermediary--the priest.  Even more fascinating it was to see that it was mostly women doing the puja, while the accompanying men stood or knelt down with folded hands. 

I didn't go inside into the inner sanctum because of the requirement that men had to remove all clothing from the upper half, and I was not ready to be a topless tourist there.  Once was enough for this trip--when I went with my sister and brother-in-law to the temple at Sucheendram :)

I reached the car after chugging down a cold soda to rehydrate myself on that hot and humid afternoon.  I handed Driver Chacha a cold Coca Cola I bought for him.  "Thanks, sir" he said.  And then added in Hindi that he would have that later with dinner at home, with the kids.  It was yet another reminder to me that drinking a Coke can be a special event to many here in India.

As we started driving back to Aurangabad, we passed what seemed like a couple of huge tombstone memorials.  Driver Chacha observed me staring at them through the passenger window. 

He gave me a long detailed explanation in between a couple of sarcastic chuckles, which I understood as: "they are the grave sites of a father and son, one of whom worked as the Regional Transport Officer.  They made money (illegally) and had built these for themselves.  While the Emperor Aurangazeb lay in a simple tomb, these small people want such huge memorials!"

Most people, be they small or big, seem to walk around with a mistaken notion that they are far too important, not understanding that the cosmos couldn't care.  As for my end, I visualize that the remains after my cremation will be scattered in the Willamette River. I will become one with the cosmos.