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Bissian (12 km from Balakot), Pakistan
Monday December 12th 2005
Snow has covered the mountains surrounding Balakot. At
night, the temperature drops to -15 degrees as families huddle close together
to keep warm. The tents provided by the relief organizations do little
to keep the cold wind from blowing through. Balakot is a graveyard and
everyone here has a story that breaks your heart.
I arrived at the Khanpur Medical relief Camp to volunteer
as a translator for the Cuban doctors who have come on a 6-month stint
to provide medical assistance in the earthquake affected zone. As the
helicopter hovered above, I could see the destruction below. The city
of Balakot and its surrounding areas are now refugee zones. Entire buildings
have collapsed. Roads have split open, houses crushed underneath the mountains.
Amidst the debris rows of UNHCR tents line the side of the road. The stench
of dead bodies still lingers in the air, and there is a sense of desperation
amongst the refugees. For them their world has come crashing down and
the relief organisations can never fill the void the earthquake has left
in their lives.
Some 400 patients visit Khanpur Medical camp each day
to get free medicines, consultations, x-rays, ECG tests, and ultrasounds.
The camp, run by Cuban doctors, provides much needed relief to the people
in this area who are suffering from broken bones, pneumonia, severe respiratory
diseases, severe kidney problems, diarrhea, scabies, urinary infections
and post-traumatic disorders. These are the lucky ones. They made it through
the brutal earthquake and the aftershocks.But they know that they will
not survive the winter in these conditions.
The tent I am sharing with two other volunteers was freezing
cold last night. Gas heaters are not allowed inside tents because of the
danger they pose. Already several fires in nearby camps have claimed the
lives of young children. My fingers and toes were numb as I struggled
to sleep. In the tent behind me a baby wailed the night through. These
are the brutal living conditions that these people have to endure on a
daily basis. No photograph or television news piece can do justice to
what these people are going through.
At 2.47 am an earthquake (not a tremor) measuring 6.6
on the Richter scale rocked the area. The refugees rushed out of their
tents, the babies started howling and fear spread through the camp. The
earth shook with intensity, a loud bang and then silence. Then, the wailing
began again. The fear of not knowing which building will fall next, which
family member will succumb next has shaken these people to the core. Everywhere
I went, the same question as repeated, "why are we being punished,
what have we done to deserve this?" For many in Balakot, the world
has already come to an end, the lights have already dimmed...Some time
later, most people returned to their tents. They had seen another earthquake
through and when the call to prayers was announced at dawn, they headed
to the mosque to thank God for saving them yet again.
Tuesday December 13th 2005
At 7am the patients start to line up. Some walk down
for miles from their tents in the mountains, others come from as far away
as Muzzafarabad. The Cuban doctors have built quite a reputation for themselves
here and the locals have taken to them immediately. Their quiet, unassuming
ways have won them respect. Their message is clear; they are here to stay
and are going to help as many people as possible. These doctors and nurses
are taking Urdu language lessons from Mr. Bhatti (the camp director) so
that they can communicate more effectively with their patients. Their
dedication is an inspiration to the other relief workers in the area.
Kiran Bibi, a 25-year-old woman who lost 3 children in
the earthquake and whose only surviving child is in danger of succumbing
to a respiratory disease, cannot find the words to thank the doctors for
helping her. Tears stream down her face when the doctors give her free
medicines, kind words and reassurances that they are here 24 hours a day
for her if she needs them.
This evening I sat with a few Cuban doctors to understand
why they chose to come to Pakistan. Since Cuba and Pakistan have limited
diplomatic relationships and the people of the two countries do not share
the same culture, language or religion, many of us are intrigued by the
help that the Cuban government has given to Pakistan. Over 1500 doctors
have come on a 6-month stint and are working in 30 such camps across the
devastated zone.
Maily Betancourt is a gynecologist and the mother of
a 10-year-old. She volunteered to come to Pakistan because she was moved
by the images she saw on television after the earthquake. "It is
my duty to help anyone who is in pain anywhere in the world," she
tells me. Even though she is unaccustomed to the harsh winter and life
in a tent she strives ahead because "the people of Pakistan need
medical help now." The Cuban help has not made headlines around the
world, but the work they are doing every day is making a difference in
the lives of thousands of people.
Wednesday December 14th 2005
Before coming to the region, I had read reports that
the Pakistani army was not doing enough to help the people affected by
the earthquake. But once I got there, I understood the gravity of the
situation. The Pakistani army has a mammoth task ahead of them and they
are trying their best to cope with the situation. No third world country
is equipped to handle a disaster of this magnitude. I see Pakistani army
helicopters, trucks, and personnel carrying supplies, setting up camps
and rebuilding broken roads and bridges. They work around the clock, but
there is always something left to do at the end of the day. More demands
and more expectations...
Khan Sahib, a 70-year-old grandfather, put the situation
in context for me this evening. He has lost his entire family, including
several grandchildren. "When god takes everything away all at once
- lives, property, health, wealth - well then nobody can ever replace
it all, as much as they try to. We are grateful to the army, the volunteers,
the non-profits. They are doing what they can, but they can never bring
back our loved ones, our homes, and our lives. So nothing they can ever
do, will be enough."
Tonight the director of the camp informed us that with
the temperature dropping and the illnesses multiplying, medicines were
running in short supply. He would have to start reaching out to people
in Islamabad in order to fill the void. As the world`s attention drifts
away from Pakistan, the international help seems to be drying up. A second
wave of disaster is around the corner for Pakistan. As soon as the first
snow falls in the valley, the death toll is bound to rise. Last year at
this time, the valleys were covered with snow, so everyone here knows
it`s only a matter of time before the first flake drifts down, bringing
with it more death and destruction.
Down the road from the medical camp, several Islamic
radical groups have set up their tents. They are also providing food,
shelter and medicines to the people in the area. And since these people
need all the help they can get, one cannot deny that the these groups
are filling a void and doing important work. However, these people have
a hidden agenda no doubt, as i discovered that afternoon.
Mini vans packed with Islamic religious school students
whiz through the streets. On a loud speaker they announce that their camps
are willing to accept everyone. They boast about the medical help their
doctors have provided to the people, and reassure them that when the foreign
volunteers, the Pakistan army and the Pakistani NGO`s leave, they will
still be there. Before the earthquake Balakot was a fertile recruiting
ground for many Jihadi Kashmiri organizations and these people want to
make sure that the people of this area continue to support them. So ever
so often they take to the streets announcing their feats and encouraging
people to support their noble cause. A troubling sign no doubt.
Thursday December 15, 2005
Last night was the coldest night of the week by far.
Most of us shivered through the night. At 2am we were awakened by the
camp guard. A young mother had brought her 9-month-old baby who was suffering
from severe pneumonia to the camp and the Cuban doctors needed translators
to help communicate with the woman. By early morning, the baby was doing
much better and mother and son went back to their relief camp.
We woke up to the news that a 40-year-old woman had been found alive 63
days after the earthquake in Muzaffrabad. Everybody marvelled at the miracle
and hoped that the woman would be able to lead a normal life. Wild rumors
spread throughout the relief camps and refugees who were still searching
for the
bodies of their loved ones started praying for small miracles.We headed
out to the city of Balakot to see how the relief operations were
coming along there. We arrived at a graveyard. On both sides of the road
workers were busy clearing debris, breaking down the walls of buildings
that
were threatening to collapse with each passing tremor. Cracked pots and
pans, torn photographs, and broken flowerpots were visible through the
debris. As we walked up the hill we came across a girls` high school that
had been flattened by the earthquake. The government had attempted to
rebuild the structure and now classes were being held in shacks made out
of tin. A young man standing close to the school told us that almost 600
girls
had died in this school alone. Mounds of fresh earth lay beside the school
where some of the girls had been buried. There were no headstones with
names, just lines of graves, some with fresh flowers.
Further down the road, a makeshift relief camp had been
set up. Young boys played cricket in an open field, while the young girls
carried jars of water
from the water tank to their tents. Here we met Mir Afzal a local resident
who told us that his 85-year-old mother kissed his hand before dying in
his
arms on 8 October. "My mother, my wife, my daughter, my granddaughter,
they all died", he told us. His 5-year-old daughter survived and
he spent the
first night comforting her in the darkness, shielding her from the cold
rain. "She kept asking me for her mother, and I didn`t know what
to tell
her," he said. Afzal later sent his daughter to live with his aunt
in Rawalpindi.
Later that afternoon, two young girls arrived at the
medical camp seeking help. Amina and Farah had walked for miles to bring
their 15-month-old baby
brother who was suffering from high fever and diarrhea to the doctors.
The earthquake has forced many young children to grow up fast. The parents
of
these girls were severely injured in the earthquake and the day-to-day
running of the household now falls on their tiny shoulders.
Just when the camp was low on medicines and tetanus injections
a German doctor, who had spent a week seeing patients in Kashmir, dropped
by. He
donated all his medicines and equipment to the Khanpur medical camp before
flying off to Frankfurt.
Friday December 16, 2005
The water was freezing as I washed my face in the morning.
As the week has progressed, the temperature has continued to drop and
today was definitely
the coldest morning of the week. The Cuban nurses wore several layers
of clothing and took turns standing around the gas heater. Some remarked
how
this would be their first Christmas away from Cuba and away from their
families. Others joked about how this could be their first white Christmas
ever.
We packed our things and waited for our ride back to
Islamabad. This would be our last day at the camp. More volunteers were
arriving and I would be
back to replace them in a few weeks.This morning two Malaysian doctors
arrived to help out at the Khanpur camp.
They had come from Kuala Lumpur to volunteer for a week, and immediately
set off to work.
Two friends brought Haji Kadeer, who was suffering from
severe kidney pain, to the camp. Dr. Juan Alberto immediately advised
him to get an injection
for the pain and sent him to the Cuban hospital down the road to get an
ultrasound. Kadeer kept shaking his head and mumbling under his breath.
His
entire family had perished in the earthquake including his four children
and the grief he was suffering was too much for him to bear. "My
babies," he
kept saying, "they took them all away, they didn`t even leave one
behind. I just want one back." Dr. Alberto didn`t need me to translate
the grief to
him; the language of pain is universal.
We left in the afternoon and as we drove away the reality
of the situation hit us hard. We had the opportunity to leave, we had
homes and families to
go back to, but for these people this was their life now. They had nowhere
else to go and no other family to turn to. The disaster has made millions
homeless and millions refugees, and their situation will not change until
spring arrives. This winter, life is going to be spent in tents; in the
hope
that their loved ones, the ones who survived, will make it through with
them. |
