Kashmir Diary

Monday December 12th 2005

Snow has covered the mountains surrounding Balakot. At night, the temperature drops to -15 degrees as families huddle close together to keep warm. The tents provided by the relief organizations do little to keep the cold wind from blowing through. Balakot is a graveyard and everyone here has a story that breaks your heart.

I arrived at the Khanpur Medical relief Camp to volunteer as a translator for the Cuban doctors who have come on a 6-month stint to provide medical assistance in the earthquake affected zone. As the helicopter hovered above, I could see the destruction below. The city of Balakot and its surrounding areas are now refugee zones. Entire buildings have collapsed. Roads have split open, houses crushed underneath the mountains. Amidst the debris rows of UNHCR tents line the side of the road. The stench of dead bodies still lingers in the air, and there is a sense of desperation amongst the refugees. For them their world has come crashing down and the relief organisations can never fill the void the earthquake has left in their lives.

Some 400 patients visit Khanpur Medical camp each day to get free medicines, consultations, x-rays, ECG tests, and ultrasounds. The camp, run by Cuban doctors, provides much needed relief to the people in this area who are suffering from broken bones, pneumonia, severe respiratory diseases, severe kidney problems, diarrhea, scabies, urinary infections and post-traumatic disorders. These are the lucky ones. They made it through the brutal earthquake and the aftershocks…But they know that they will not survive the winter in these conditions.

The tent I am sharing with two other volunteers was freezing cold last night. Gas heaters are not allowed inside tents because of the danger they pose. Already several fires in nearby camps have claimed the lives of young children. My fingers and toes were numb as I struggled to sleep. In the tent behind me a baby wailed the night through. These are the brutal living conditions that these people have to endure on a daily basis. No photograph
or television news piece can do justice to what these people are going through.

At 2.47 am an earthquake (not a tremor) measuring 6.6 on the Richter scale rocked the area. The refugees rushed out of their tents, the babies started
howling and fear spread through the camp. The earth shook with intensity, a loud bang and then silence. Then, the wailing began again. The fear of not knowing which building will fall next, which family member will succumb next
has shaken these people to the core. Everywhere I went, the same question as repeated, "why are we being punished, what have we done to deserve
this?" For many in Balakot, the world has already come to an end, the lights
have already dimmed...Some time later, most people returned to their tents. They had seen another earthquake through and when the call to prayers was
announced at dawn, they headed to the mosque to thank God for saving them yet again.


Tuesday December 13th 2005

At 7am the patients start to line up. Some walk down for miles from their tents in the mountains, others come from as far away as Muzzafarabad. The
Cuban doctors have built quite a reputation for themselves here and the locals have taken to them immediately. Their quiet, unassuming ways have won them respect. Their message is clear; they are here to stay and are going to help as many people as possible. These doctors and nurses are taking Urdu language lessons from Mr. Bhatti (the camp director) so that they can communicate more effectively with their patients. Their dedication is an inspiration to the other relief workers in the area.

Kiran Bibi, a 25-year-old woman who lost 3 children in the earthquake and whose only surviving child is in danger of succumbing to a respiratory disease, cannot find the words to thank the doctors for helping her. Tears
stream down her face when the doctors give her free medicines, kind words
and reassurances that they are here 24 hours a day for her if she needs them.

This evening I sat with a few Cuban doctors to understand why they chose to come to Pakistan. Since Cuba and Pakistan have limited diplomatic relationships and the people of the two countries do not share the same culture, language or religion, many of us are intrigued by the help that the Cuban government has given to Pakistan. Over 1500 doctors have come on a 6-month stint and are working in 30 such camps across the devastated zone.

Maily Betancourt is a gynecologist and the mother of a 10-year-old. She volunteered to come to Pakistan because she was moved by the images she saw on television after the earthquake. "It is my duty to help anyone who is in pain anywhere in the world," she tells me. Even though she is unaccustomed to the harsh winter and life in a tent she strives ahead because "the people of Pakistan need medical help now." The Cuban help has not made headlines around the world, but the work they are doing every day is making a difference in the lives of thousands of people.


Wednesday December 14th 2005

Before coming to the region, I had read reports that the Pakistani army was
not doing enough to help the people affected by the earthquake. But once I
got there, I understood the gravity of the situation. The Pakistani army has
a mammoth task ahead of them and they are trying their best to cope with the
situation. No third world country is equipped to handle a disaster of this
magnitude. I see Pakistani army helicopters, trucks, and personnel carrying
supplies, setting up camps and rebuilding broken roads and bridges. They
work around the clock, but there is always something left to do at the end
of the day. More demands and more expectations...

Khan Sahib, a 70-year-old grandfather, put the situation in context for me
this evening. He has lost his entire family, including several
grandchildren. "When god takes everything away all at once – lives,
property, health, wealth – well then nobody can ever replace it all, as much
as they try to. We are grateful to the army, the volunteers, the
non-profits. They are doing what they can, but they can never bring back our
loved ones, our homes, and our lives. So nothing they can ever do, will be
enough."

Tonight the director of the camp informed us that with the temperature
dropping and the illnesses multiplying, medicines were running in short
supply. He would have to start reaching out to people in Islamabad in order
to fill the void. As the world’s attention drifts away from Pakistan, the
international help seems to be drying up. A second wave of disaster is
around the corner for Pakistan. As soon as the first snow falls in the
valley, the death toll is bound to rise. Last year at this time, the valleys
were covered with snow, so everyone here knows it’s only a matter of time
before the first flake drifts down, bringing with it more death and
destruction.

Down the road from the medical camp, several Islamic radical groups have set
up their tents. They are also providing food, shelter and medicines to the
people in the area. And since these people need all the help they can get,
one cannot deny that the these groups are filling a void and doing important
work. However, these people have a hidden agenda no doubt, as i discovered
that afternoon.

Mini vans packed with Islamic religious school students whiz through the
streets. On a loud speaker they announce that their camps are willing to
accept everyone. They boast about the medical help their doctors have
provided to the people, and reassure them that when the foreign volunteers,
the Pakistan army and the Pakistani NGO’s leave, they will still be there.
Before the earthquake Balakot was a fertile recruiting ground for many
Jihadi Kashmiri organizations and these people want to make sure that the
people of this area continue to support them. So ever so often they take to
the streets announcing their feats and encouraging people to support their
noble cause. A troubling sign no doubt.


Thursday December 15, 2005

Last night was the coldest night of the week by far. Most of us shivered
through the night. At 2am we were awakened by the camp guard. A young mother
had brought her 9-month-old baby who was suffering from severe pneumonia to
the camp and the Cuban doctors needed translators to help communicate with
the woman. By early morning, the baby was doing much better and mother and
son went back to their relief camp.

If you would like to donate to the earthquake relief fund, Sharmeen
Obaid-Chinoy recommends the following organizations:

We woke up to the news that a 40-year-old woman had been found alive 63 days
after the earthquake in Muzaffrabad. Everybody marvelled at the miracle and
hoped that the woman would be able to lead a normal life. Wild rumors spread
throughout the relief camps and refugees who were still searching for the
bodies of their loved ones started praying for small miracles.

We headed out to the city of Balakot to see how the relief operations were
coming along there. We arrived at a graveyard. On both sides of the road
workers were busy clearing debris, breaking down the walls of buildings that
were threatening to collapse with each passing tremor. Cracked pots and
pans, torn photographs, and broken flowerpots were visible through the
debris. As we walked up the hill we came across a girls’ high school that
had been flattened by the earthquake. The government had attempted to
rebuild the structure and now classes were being held in shacks made out of
tin. A young man standing close to the school told us that almost 600 girls
had died in this school alone. Mounds of fresh earth lay beside the school
where some of the girls had been buried. There were no headstones with
names, just lines of graves, some with fresh flowers…

Further down the road, a makeshift relief camp had been set up. Young boys
played cricket in an open field, while the young girls carried jars of water
from the water tank to their tents. Here we met Mir Afzal a local resident
who told us that his 85-year-old mother kissed his hand before dying in his
arms on 8 October. "My mother, my wife, my daughter, my granddaughter, they
all died", he told us. His 5-year-old daughter survived and he spent the
first night comforting her in the darkness, shielding her from the cold
rain. "She kept asking me for her mother, and I didn’t know what to tell
her," he said. Afzal later sent his daughter to live with his aunt in
Rawalpindi.

Later that afternoon, two young girls arrived at the medical camp seeking
help. Amina and Farah had walked for miles to bring their 15-month-old baby
brother who was suffering from high fever and diarrhea to the doctors. The
earthquake has forced many young children to grow up fast. The parents of
these girls were severely injured in the earthquake and the day-to-day
running of the household now falls on their tiny shoulders.

Just when the camp was low on medicines and tetanus injections a German
doctor, who had spent a week seeing patients in Kashmir, dropped by. He
donated all his medicines and equipment to the Khanpur medical camp before
flying off to Frankfurt.

Friday December 16, 2005

The water was freezing as I washed my face in the morning. As the week has
progressed, the temperature has continued to drop and today was definitely
the coldest morning of the week. The Cuban nurses wore several layers of
clothing and took turns standing around the gas heater. Some remarked how
this would be their first Christmas away from Cuba and away from their
families. Others joked about how this could be their first white Christmas
ever.

We packed our things and waited for our ride back to Islamabad. This would
be our last day at the camp. More volunteers were arriving and I would be
back to replace them in a few weeks.

This morning two Malaysian doctors arrived to help out at the Khanpur camp.
They had come from Kuala Lumpur to volunteer for a week, and immediately set
off to work.

Two friends brought Haji Kadeer, who was suffering from severe kidney pain,
to the camp. Dr. Juan Alberto immediately advised him to get an injection
for the pain and sent him to the Cuban hospital down the road to get an
ultrasound. Kadeer kept shaking his head and mumbling under his breath. His
entire family had perished in the earthquake including his four children and
the grief he was suffering was too much for him to bear. "My babies," he
kept saying, "they took them all away, they didn’t even leave one behind. I
just want one back…" Dr. Alberto didn’t need me to translate the grief to
him; the language of pain is universal…

We left in the afternoon and as we drove away the reality of the situation
hit us hard. We had the opportunity to leave, we had homes and families to
go back to, but for these people this was their life now. They had nowhere
else to go and no other family to turn to. The disaster has made millions
homeless and millions refugees, and their situation will not change until
spring arrives. This winter, life is going to be spent in tents; in the hope
that their loved ones, the ones who survived, will make it through with
them.