PAKISTAN EARTHQUAKE: HELL ON EARTH, MAGNUS MACEDO
Everywhere you turned your head there were scenes of human desperation to its limit and, with it, came our frustration of being unable to help.
Chaos, desperation, grief, pain, despair. More than a month after the worst ever earthquake in their history, the situation still is desperate in Muzafarrabad, capital of Pakistani controlled Kashmir.
Muzafarrabad is situated in the beautiful Neelum Valley, on the banks Neelum River, and used to be the capital of the region. Despite the military tension between India and Pakistan for control of the Kashmir Mountains, Muzafarrabad had enjoyed a normal and stable community life in this paradisiacal region.
Three days after the earthquake it was like Dante’s Purgatory.
Wrapped bodies waiting to be collected from the pavements, people frantically driving their overloaded cars through jammed streets, desperate men digging through the rubble of collapsed buildings in search of relatives, friends, in many cases children. Screams for help and honking car horns. For days, in the dusted chilled smelly air, everywhere I looked in that doomed city were shocking scenes. A communal mad desperate anarchy was suddenly there, nonstop.
A destroyed football stadium was being used as an airfield for rescue helicopters to land. Pain and puzzlement were evident in every face on that football field.
Everywhere you turned your head there were scenes of human desperation to its limit and, with it, came our frustration of being unable to help.
The smell of deteriorating bodies was overwhelming and spread all over the city, what was left of it.
Homeless families [the lucky ones for being alive] were still hanging around in despair of what used to be their homes. Most of them were left with nothing but the clothes they were wearing or a few belongings they managed to salvage from the rubble.
I came across many children who were probably unaware of what was happening around them. Like this little girl standing in front of what used to be her house.
Little Isma, seen here eating a few cookies we gave to her, is now probably living in one single tent with her five older brothers and sisters together with eight other members of her family. She is considered a lucky one despite the grim future ahead of her.
Most of the basic infrastructure of this city of approximately four hundred and fifty thousand people was totally destroyed or badly damaged by the earthquake.
“Water and electricity, hospitals and schools, shops, our people! everything is gone!” a tearful man shouted to us. He was helping to bury his friend’s two sons, 17 and 18, on the back of a collapsed grocery store.
There are about three million homeless in the region and the dead are still being counted on the top of the 70,000+. Over 200,000 people are still trapped in the mountains risking death by frostbite or starvation, or both. There is also the permanent risk of diseases like cholera, diphtheria, and hepatitis. Many of the villages in the mountains haven’t yet received any kind of aid. Their injured are being left to painful slow death with the winter approaching
It is difficult to draw a line of comparison between the earthquake in Pakistan to the Hurricanes in America. Pakistan is a poor country and the areas affected even poorer before the earthquake stroke. The access to the affected regions is also much harder because of the mountains and the weather. It’s winter in the Himalayans and the snow falls hard with temperatures dropping dramatically below zero. These factors make the task of flying the “few” rescue helicopters extremely dangerous.
We flew with a Pakistani air force helicopter to villages close to Bagh, on the border with Indian controlled Kashmir. There we found a group of people who, despite their injuries, managed to walk miles through the mountains to get close to the airfield.
They were going to be taken to first aid treatment far away from their homes, but with hope they will be fortunate enough to get shelter until the end of the winter.
Many of these mountain-rescued people are being left adrift in the streets of host neighboring cities for lack of resources, aid workers say. Many, if not all of them will freeze to death.
Many roads to remote villages are only being re-opened now, more than a month after the landslides. The aftershocks are constant there, further damaging what was hanging on or being repaired. Add snow to all that and the scenario is clear.
The UN, rescue organizers, charity workers, NGOs were saying that Pakistani Kashmir was not getting enough aid from the public and foreign private sectors because there were no foreign tourists involved in the tragedy. They said the Tsunami victims received much more help because the region was a tourist destination before.
The story had already been dropped from TV and newspaper headlines and it was fading.
Aid workers were already feeling frustrated and left behind for lack of resources. Time is ticking quick, temperatures dropping daily and the snow already appearing on the top of mountains.
Tomorrow will be too late.
photos and text c Magnus Macedo
EMAIL MAGNUS MACEDO
Chaos, desperation, grief, pain, despair. More than a month after the worst ever earthquake in their history, the situation still is desperate in Muzafarrabad, capital of Pakistani controlled Kashmir.
Muzafarrabad is situated in the beautiful Neelum Valley, on the banks Neelum River, and used to be the capital of the region. Despite the military tension between India and Pakistan for control of the Kashmir Mountains, Muzafarrabad had enjoyed a normal and stable community life in this paradisiacal region.
Three days after the earthquake it was like Dante’s Purgatory.
Wrapped bodies waiting to be collected from the pavements, people frantically driving their overloaded cars through jammed streets, desperate men digging through the rubble of collapsed buildings in search of relatives, friends, in many cases children. Screams for help and honking car horns. For days, in the dusted chilled smelly air, everywhere I looked in that doomed city were shocking scenes. A communal mad desperate anarchy was suddenly there, nonstop.
A destroyed football stadium was being used as an airfield for rescue helicopters to land. Pain and puzzlement were evident in every face on that football field.
Everywhere you turned your head there were scenes of human desperation to its limit and, with it, came our frustration of being unable to help.
The smell of deteriorating bodies was overwhelming and spread all over the city, what was left of it.
Homeless families [the lucky ones for being alive] were still hanging around in despair of what used to be their homes. Most of them were left with nothing but the clothes they were wearing or a few belongings they managed to salvage from the rubble.
I came across many children who were probably unaware of what was happening around them. Like this little girl standing in front of what used to be her house.
Little Isma, seen here eating a few cookies we gave to her, is now probably living in one single tent with her five older brothers and sisters together with eight other members of her family. She is considered a lucky one despite the grim future ahead of her.
Most of the basic infrastructure of this city of approximately four hundred and fifty thousand people was totally destroyed or badly damaged by the earthquake.
“Water and electricity, hospitals and schools, shops, our people! everything is gone!” a tearful man shouted to us. He was helping to bury his friend’s two sons, 17 and 18, on the back of a collapsed grocery store.
There are about three million homeless in the region and the dead are still being counted on the top of the 70,000+. Over 200,000 people are still trapped in the mountains risking death by frostbite or starvation, or both. There is also the permanent risk of diseases like cholera, diphtheria, and hepatitis. Many of the villages in the mountains haven’t yet received any kind of aid. Their injured are being left to painful slow death with the winter approaching
It is difficult to draw a line of comparison between the earthquake in Pakistan to the Hurricanes in America. Pakistan is a poor country and the areas affected even poorer before the earthquake stroke. The access to the affected regions is also much harder because of the mountains and the weather. It’s winter in the Himalayans and the snow falls hard with temperatures dropping dramatically below zero. These factors make the task of flying the “few” rescue helicopters extremely dangerous.
We flew with a Pakistani air force helicopter to villages close to Bagh, on the border with Indian controlled Kashmir. There we found a group of people who, despite their injuries, managed to walk miles through the mountains to get close to the airfield.
They were going to be taken to first aid treatment far away from their homes, but with hope they will be fortunate enough to get shelter until the end of the winter.
Many of these mountain-rescued people are being left adrift in the streets of host neighboring cities for lack of resources, aid workers say. Many, if not all of them will freeze to death.
Many roads to remote villages are only being re-opened now, more than a month after the landslides. The aftershocks are constant there, further damaging what was hanging on or being repaired. Add snow to all that and the scenario is clear.
The UN, rescue organizers, charity workers, NGOs were saying that Pakistani Kashmir was not getting enough aid from the public and foreign private sectors because there were no foreign tourists involved in the tragedy. They said the Tsunami victims received much more help because the region was a tourist destination before.
The story had already been dropped from TV and newspaper headlines and it was fading.
Aid workers were already feeling frustrated and left behind for lack of resources. Time is ticking quick, temperatures dropping daily and the snow already appearing on the top of mountains.
Tomorrow will be too late.
photos and text c Magnus Macedo
EMAIL MAGNUS MACEDO
posted by AMY at 12:53 AM
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