Arrived home safely from Peru last night. The trip certainly didn't go as planned! Chris's very unfortunate heart attack changed things more than slightly. Thankfully, after a few days in a private clinic in Lima he was feeling well enough to be left, which meant I was able to return to the earthquake zone for a better assessment of the situation.
It doesn't mater how many emergency trips I make, no two situations are ever the same - but I regularly leave feeling humbled by the resilience and optimism of people who have suffered tremendously.
On Wednesday I was in a small village called El Olivo. There are 365 houses there - or should I say, there were. There's only 1 left standing now - and that will need to be pulled down because it's structurally unsafe. I met a number of people - but let me introduce you to 2 of them. Annelle lived in the house that's still standing. She's not there now, of course, but living in a plastic shelter on some waste ground. When the quake happened she was in her front room, standing with her Mum at the foot of the stairs. Annelle ran out the front door - her Mum was behind her but couldn't get out. By the time she made it to the door the frame of the house was twisting and buckling as the earth moved underneath it. The door was shut tight and Luvi, her Mum, was stuck inside. Her house stayed in one piece - if it hadn't then Luvi probably wouldn't be alive today.
As I chatted with Annelle I tried to imagine what it must have been like for her as she ran out of the house, scared out of her life. Trying to find safety, what on earth did she feel when she looked around her and saw every single house in her street collapsing around her? I just can't comprehend what that must be like.
Then there was Juana. In her 20's, I found her with a small group of women working at a communal kitchen, preparing food for her friends and neighbours. I asked where her house was. She walked about 5 metres from the stove, stood on a small piece of ground and said, 'this was where my house stood, and this is the spot where my Mum died in the earthquake'. What words can you say after being told that? (the picture with this posting shows Juana and her own daughter showing Major Alex Nesterenko where their home once stood)
Despite their amazing hurt, I saw something wonderful in Annelle, Luvi and Juana. As we talked they smiled and laughed with me. They talked about the things they were doing to rebuild their lives. Despite everything, they hadn't given up!
People sometimes ask me where God is at times of disaster. I see God in people like Juana, a young woman caring for others when she could allow her own grief to overwhelm her.
I feel hugely privileged to meet such wonderful people.
It doesn't mater how many emergency trips I make, no two situations are ever the same - but I regularly leave feeling humbled by the resilience and optimism of people who have suffered tremendously.
On Wednesday I was in a small village called El Olivo. There are 365 houses there - or should I say, there were. There's only 1 left standing now - and that will need to be pulled down because it's structurally unsafe. I met a number of people - but let me introduce you to 2 of them. Annelle lived in the house that's still standing. She's not there now, of course, but living in a plastic shelter on some waste ground. When the quake happened she was in her front room, standing with her Mum at the foot of the stairs. Annelle ran out the front door - her Mum was behind her but couldn't get out. By the time she made it to the door the frame of the house was twisting and buckling as the earth moved underneath it. The door was shut tight and Luvi, her Mum, was stuck inside. Her house stayed in one piece - if it hadn't then Luvi probably wouldn't be alive today.
As I chatted with Annelle I tried to imagine what it must have been like for her as she ran out of the house, scared out of her life. Trying to find safety, what on earth did she feel when she looked around her and saw every single house in her street collapsing around her? I just can't comprehend what that must be like.
Then there was Juana. In her 20's, I found her with a small group of women working at a communal kitchen, preparing food for her friends and neighbours. I asked where her house was. She walked about 5 metres from the stove, stood on a small piece of ground and said, 'this was where my house stood, and this is the spot where my Mum died in the earthquake'. What words can you say after being told that? (the picture with this posting shows Juana and her own daughter showing Major Alex Nesterenko where their home once stood)
Despite their amazing hurt, I saw something wonderful in Annelle, Luvi and Juana. As we talked they smiled and laughed with me. They talked about the things they were doing to rebuild their lives. Despite everything, they hadn't given up!
People sometimes ask me where God is at times of disaster. I see God in people like Juana, a young woman caring for others when she could allow her own grief to overwhelm her.
I feel hugely privileged to meet such wonderful people.
1 comment:
Thanks for your postings, Cedric.
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