rocks and mountains

Waking up Sunday morning, November 8th to my host mom standing over my bed with a flashlight and saying very passionately - Verapaz está hundido!, Verapaz está perdido!, Verapaz está inundado! at 3 am is not my idea of a good morning. I didn't immediately register what she was saying, so I went back to sleep to the sound of falling rain. It had been raining on and off since Friday afternoon. When I finally woke up for real at 7 am, I realized what my host mom was saying - Verapaz is buried!, Verapaz is lost!, Verapaz is flooded!. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what to do.

It was still drizzling outside but, there wasn't any water on the porch like there usually was after bad rains. Nothing seemed abnormal where we were, and no one was offering to run off to Verapaz right away to help, so I didn't do anything. The power was out, and I was planning on spending Sunday with my host family anyway, so I started to help with breakfast. As we were preparing breakfast, there was a decently steady stream of men and boys with shovels and ropes and hoes heading off to go help in Verapaz. I would have liked to go, but I figured we would all go as a group later. A little while later Alicea came over and that's when I knew it was bad. Her family woke at 2:30 am and hiked to higher ground through knee deep water as the rain was pouring down. They had lost their home before (during the earthquake, I think) so they were not messing around with Mother Nature. It was Alicea's host mom who woke up my host mom who woke me up to inform us what was going on. After sitting in the rain, but on higher ground, for about 3 hours, they came back down the mountain and walked to Verapaz to look for family members. It was (and still is the house shown at second 42 is in Molineros) a disaster zone. Rocks the size of motorcycles destroyed entire houses and twisted barbed wire into pretzels. We realized later that day, while comparing stories, that what we thought were thunder claps at night, were actually rocks crushing in to Verapaz. The San Vicente Volcano, Chichontepeque, looms large over Verapaz, Guadelupe and San Vicente. The 355 mm of rain that fell in 4 hours was too much for the rocky subsurface to hold onto the mountain anymore, so parts of the volcano came sliding down.

Peace Corps began contacting us all in the early morning to verify that we were all right and where we were. Our second part of training was set to start on Monday, so all of our training class was back in the area, i.e. communities surrounding San Vicente, the hardest hit in the nation. Thank goodness that most of them had taken the opportunity to go to San Salvador for the night, and most of them were already there when the "standfast" call was made Sunday. That means that no matter where you are, you are not supposed to leave that community/city/pueblo unless told specifically otherwise by the safety and security officer. (Some lucky volunteers were taking a vacation up in the northern reaches of El Salvador, so they had to stay another night because of the standfast call!)

So we waited. We waited in Molineros, which is a 15 minute walk from Verapaz. All day long the caravan of people going back and forth to Verapaz was immense. Trucks would pass by and pick up anyone that was going to help, until the back was practically touching the ground. Other trucks were shuttling people who had lost their homes up to the homes of family members or friends in the higher communities of San Isidro and Cañas. The Red Cross and Salvadoran Army had showed up by 9 am. The rural police had already been there since day break, shuttling the wounded off to regional hospitals.

I was torn between going and not. The opportunity finally came at 4 pm, but it was starting to get dark, it had been raining all day, we still hadn't heard from Peace Corps what we were supposed to do, and I had the only charged phone with signal and saldo (pre-paid minutes) of the Molineros volunteers. (There were three of us in Molineros, two in San Isidro/Cañas, two in San Cayetano and one in San Antonio Caminas.) It was a good thing I didn't go because we received a call at 5:45 pm saying that we needed to evacuate. We were told that Peace Corps was trying to arrange transport, but some of the other volunteers were much more stuck than we were (bridges out, roads completely blocked etc.) Luckily Alicea's host uncle was heading back to San Sal (he and some friends had come to help in Verapaz all day) and they were heading back for the night. We quickly packed up our things, said goodbye to our families - and encouraged them to get out as well, because more rain was prognistacated for Sunday night.

We arrived in San Sal without a glitch, and got to the hotel were Peace Corps was putting up the evacuees. I eventually headed back to SAS (my permanent community) on Tuesday night. SAS was not affected at all by the heavy rains. We live in a relatively flat area, with the closest river many kilometers away. The closest volcano, Volcano of San Miguel, is quite a ways away so land slides aren't too much of a concern. Though, supposedly it is a very active volcano and due to erupt, so we'll see about that natural disaster!

It definitely is something to live through one of Mother Nature's shows of force. I have even more respect for the power of water, (and the necessity of trees in this country! El Salvador counts with only about 3% of the original forest cover.) It's also quite amazing the aid response. This country, though developing and small, has been able to rally people from all over the country, through the help of radio, print and television, to donate items. However, as in our country, and all over the world, there are plenty who have turned a blind eye to the situation. I know that I have done the same when other natural disasters are publicized, partly because I didn't know how to help, and partly because the natural disaster, and victims, felt so distant. This time was different. Family members of host families were lost. One municipal development volunteer (their training class stays in Verapaz during training) lost his entire host family. I've walked the streets that were being shown on television. When Peace Corps tells us we can go back in to San Vicente (the area is still off limits) I will be heading back to help in any way I can.

While I understand that if people were to let themselves get worked into a tizzy about every disaster and every victim, they would do nothing but worry all the time, I do think that we all could extend ourselves a little more to help victims of disasters. Whether it's through donating items, money, planting a tree, saying a prayer or even just telling people about it, to raise awareness, all these actions help in their own way. The relative geographical privledge that the United States has is not to be taken for granted.