After a month of silence since Hurricane Maria hit Puerto Rico, Edwin Aponte finally made contact last week with the world beyond his town of Coamo. It came via a Facebook post, a simple check-in from afar that his friends celebrated as if it brought news that they had hit the lottery. Sure, he had no water, power and little food. Nor did he have his apartment, which was flooded.

But he had hope.

“Coamo was hit hard,” he wrote, “but we will be reborn stronger than ever.”

The devastation is widespread and heartbreaking, he said a few days later by phone. The first glimpse he got of federal emergency workers, he said, was 12 days after the hurricane. Some military rations and a case of water were dropped off at his childhood home on day 33. By then, people were getting desperate, he said, with some resorting to theft while tempers flared over minor dust-ups. Like thousands of other Puerto Ricans, he is leaving for Florida, at least until water and power are restored.

But as he reconnected with friends and caught up on the news, he grew angry. Why the delayed response? Would President Trump allow a state to go weeks without water or power? How did Whitefish Energy, a two-person company in Montana, land a $300 million no-bid contract to rebuild the island’s power grid? The task ahead is gargantuan, as are the challenges. If anything, he said, now is the time to enlist the Puerto Rican diaspora, some 5.4 million people, to push their Congressional representatives to help the island’s 3.4 million residents.

“We are talking so much time and money to do the proper thing,” Mr. Aponte said. “The Trump administration wants to turn around and put a Band-Aid on this. We need the diaspora to pressure Congress and make sure they step up. Nothing the diaspora does alone can finance what is needed. People have to call their representatives and tell them to vote yes on any bills for Puerto Rico assistance.”