四川 Sichuan: One Year On

I was going to write about something else (I can’t remember ‘what’ now) but obviously this blog is all about the earthquake. We all have our own stories and here is mine.

Unusually for a Monday, I didn’t need to be in the studio. Instead, I was at home working away on the same laptop I’m using to write to you now. I had just got off the phone (sometime after two pm and half-thinking about what to have for a late lunch) when my house started shaking. And swaying. And just-about-everything-else for me to know that I needed to get out of the building.

I don’t have much furniture as my home is largely white and grey and minimally designed, but one look at the swinging black chandelier in the centre of the room confirmed what I already knew. Except, of course, I didn’t know it was an earthquake. I just thought the building was badly designed and that they may have been some problem with the construction.

All this (and more) was racing through my mind when I grabbed my key and my phone, opened the door and walked down the stairs. Walked. I didn’t panic. But I walked fast enough to get out of there. It was already mid-afternoon but I was still in my pyjamas and a white t-shirt when I came outside into the sunlight. A little embarrassing. Especially since I myself have never understood why people can go out their front door in the same clothes in which they slept through the night before.

I was one of the first people on the street. A pregnant lady was just ahead of me. And soon after, several elderly people and a guy in a wheelchair. I remember thinking how comparatively fortunate I am to enjoy great health and to not have anything extra to worry about in an emergency. Together we waited outside. Together we waited.

It’s funny how people bond in such situations. They forget about their other problems. They have a kind word to say to each other. And, in a city and in a world where we are sometimes too busy for anyone, we suddenly found ourselves taking a step back and looking out for strangers we had just met with both thoughtfulness and untypical concern.

The first person I called was my brother (even though there was not much he could do from where he lives in Hong Kong). I couldn’t get through. The mobile network was too busy. So, I sent through a text message ‘CALL ME REALLY URGENT’ which surprisingly went through almost immediately. I didn’t know what to do and felt very alone even though, by this time, there was a growing crowd of people gathering on the street.

Suddenly, I saw my friends standing a couple of metres from me. There’s something wonderfully reassuring about seeing familiar faces in a sea of strangers. When we looked at each other, I knew and they knew that everything was going to be okay. And so it was. We went to a coffee shop nearby where they bought me something to eat and drink. (Remember, I hadn’t eaten all day, I had no money and I was wearing too little for such windy weather.)  When we saw literally hundreds of people only a couple of blocks away it became clear that it wasn’t just my building. It was much larger than us.

And that’s when we first heard the word ‘earthquake’ being mentioned. By the time you read this blog I don’t know how many people would have been confirmed dead. And it’s the last thing I would ever wish to speculate.

James

Beijing, 19 May, 2008

China Central Television sent out a text message last night, reminding its anchors to wear only dark suits.
 
I am writing to you from my tailor's house. He's trying to have a set of white shirts ready for tonight's live broadcast on, this, the one week anniversary of the Sichuan Earthquake. We have a few hours to finish it off. Earlier, I managed to borrow a black tie from the staff working at the hotel next door to my house because, for some reason, I can't find any of my suitable black ties.

It's not that I don't have one. It's just that I am, like the rest of the country, too confused to think straight right now.
 
Today, at 2.28pm, I was on Jianguomen. Cars pulled over. Traffic police removed their caps. Everyone's heads dropped. And the most heartbreaking moment was when every car started sounding their horns. Unlike an official airraid siren, this was an act on behalf of the people for the people. It was a tribute to the thousands dead. It was a tribute to the thousands still alive. And it was a tribute to the thousands who, miracle upon miracle, could still be waiting to be found.

Past earthquakes around the world show that victims can survive for up to two weeks. So, we can't be without hope. Also, I read in the papers today of one woman still looking for her children in Sichuan. She said that, for the people who know their relatives have died, today is a memorial and a funeral. But, for her, it's not. She will continue looking until the end.
 
I know of someone who is serving with the military in the very epicentre of last week's earthquake and there's not been a day since then that I haven't thought and prayed for him and his soldiers.

James