The fishy and salty stench of the ocean hit my nose as I stood in the sand, hand in hand with my mother. We stared out at the calming waves ahead, less calm than we appeared.

Our home on the coast of Chile had been destroyed. It was a seemingly normal day, my father stood in the kitchen sizzling up empanadas de pino while dancing alongside my mother to music I thought was quite corny.

We heard a...