It was Saturday morning and I was pottering around at home. I was looking forward to seeing my husband Simon who was away in Baglung – a town about 50 miles west of where we live in Besisahar. He was due back on Sunday. I’d been down to our small vegetable plot but had come home earlier than planned as I’d forgotten a bag with seeds. I put down some lettuce and spinach next to the sink and took off my dirty sandals.
A matter of minutes
As I walked back to the sink, there was a very sudden shudder. So much went through my mind in the split seconds that followed. I rushed to the doorway. I could hear panicky voices and running so I quickly joined the rush down the stairs and outside.
No-one knew where to go or what to do. The tremendous shaking was causing the reinforcement bars on the next door building to clatter and sway. Although I was among a crowd, I felt very alone. Where was Simon? Was he OK?
This was something serious
The quake stopped as quickly as it had started and the buildings were all standing. About 10 minutes later I did something I’m sure I shouldn't have done so soon after the earthquake: I went inside to find my phone so that I could try to get hold of Simon. I threw some things into a bag, put on some more comfortable shoes and beat a hasty retreat.
I sat, somewhat dumbfounded, on a low wall. After several attempts at phoning Simon and the VSO emergency number, I got a call from him. Thank goodness he was OK - a huge relief. I managed to get messages to our family by the amazing tool of WhatsApp which got through while more conventional means were blocked by overuse.
The shocked village mere minutes after the first earthquake
Having made contact with my fellow volunteer, Ann, I set off to her flat at the other end of town. As we stood outside, a head of a local college said that he was 59 years old and had never experienced anything like this. It confirmed our thoughts that this was something serious. It was a long time later that we realised that we were very close to the epicentre.
There were aftershocks all day. These were very unnerving as until they had faded away, we didn’t know how intense they would be each time.
I thought that we should stay in the open and we headed for a hotel in town. The hotel proprietor was wonderful. She opened her gates to lots of locals and we all bedded down under awnings, though anxiety and aftershocks meant not much sleep.
Reunited with Simon
The following day felt very strange. There was some normality: a few shops open, vehicles moving. However, the aftershocks continued, gradually subsiding apart from a big one at about midday which threw us again. To my great relief, Simon arrived home around mid-morning and it felt so good to be back together.
As Sunday and Monday progressed, we heard more of the devastating news and rising death figures. While we’ve seen little damage here in Besisahar, most people we’ve talked to know of family or friends that are missing or have lost family homes in the villages. In one case, someone spoke of their whole village having been destroyed.
Doing what we can to help
VSO has offered us repatriation and we know our children would like to see us disembarking from an aeroplane on home ground! But Simon and I are determined to stay in Nepal and make ourselves useful.
On the Thursday after the earthquake, we volunteered ourselves to the Chief District Officer, who is coordinating the disaster relief. He asked us to spend a day visiting five communities hit hard by the earthquake to assess and take photographs of the damage – a visual record that will help with relief planning.
On Saturday morning we got in a jeep, ready to start our day’s work. But the jeep didn’t get far so we set off on foot, determined not to return until we’d completed our task. That was the start of what turned out to be a five-day hike – we walked between 8 and 12 hours a day. Simon took over 900 photos of houses, schools and health posts while I recorded the names of most of the home owners (no mean feat with our limited Nepali!)
A 200 year old Hindu mandir crumbles under the huge forces.
Despite the circumstances, this village gave us a traditional and very warm welcome on day four of our trek.
Warm welcomes from elderly villagers
Despite the worries and fear hanging over the communities we visited, we were given wonderful welcomes. On our second day we arrived at a village called Taji, the worst we had seen. Of the 65 houses we recorded, over 20 were destroyed, while the rest were badly damaged.
Tired from walking and emotionally weary, I felt my heart going out to many, but one or two people caused me to bite my lip to hold back tears. One lady was sitting on her house step looking so crestfallen that I went over and gave her a hug.
Because the younger generations have left to find work, most people living in these remote villages are elderly. It is hard to imagine how they are going to clear their land and rebuild their homes, especially with the monsoon season approaching fast.
This elderly man’s home has been completely destroyed. His relatives have all migrated in search of employment.
Helping people overcome their fear
As you can imagine, our trip was emotionally and physically exhausting, but Simon and I feel pleased to have done something to help. Our report is already being used to show potential donors what kind of aid is needed in the region.
But I know that our work has only just begun. I’ve just heard that VSO and my employer Global Action Nepal are going to start a new project to help people overcome their fears and return to a normal way of life. The Sisters for Sisters project that I’ve been supporting will have an important role to play in this. I hope to have news of our progress for you in my next update. In the meantime, thank you again for your support during these challenging times – and please do make a donation to VSO’s Nepal appeal if you haven’t already.
Best wishes,
Judith
