The suffering doesn't let up

Last week I was working with a third NGO called Comunion Peru (in case you missed the first two, please see blog entry of 10th August), started by the Anglican Bishop of Peru, William Godfrey. Comunion Peru has set up eight kitchens (so far) in the regions of Chincha, Pisco and Ica where the earthquake had its most devastating effect. My main goal has been to raise funds to keep these kitchens, and the additional ones we plan to open, supplied with food to keep them running and to keep the citizens of the surrounding communities fed.

The situation the people of San Juan Bautista, where I was on Friday night delivering storage sheds to three of our kitchens, and Pueblo Nuevo, where I was last weekend, find themselves in is desperate. When your house collapses, you don't just lose a place to live, a safe place to sleep, a place to congregate, a place to cook, a place to wash, a place to be. You lose most of your possessions. They get buried, crushed, smashed or just lost. The money you make which in normal times goes primarily to feed and clothe the family, to pay the lighting and water bills and in miniscule amounts, if there's any left over, to a little home improvement, suddenly is required to pay for new everythings. Plates, glasses, forks, knives, spoons, cups, beds, blankets, clothes, lights. There's no insurance policy. Even if you could afford it, who's going to provide contents insurance against an earthquake for houses built of mud brick lying near a major fault line, or if you could find that person, how could you afford the necessarily stratospheric premiums?

The kitchens which Comunion Peru (and others) have set up and are setting up provide a small amount of relief to people from the overwhelming challenges they now face, one less thing they need to worry about. All are looking to their government for help. And millions of dollars have already been earmarked for reconstruction by President Alan Garcia. When this will begin however is anyone's guess and in the interim, life must go on. The only visible contribution the government is making to this end thus far is to demolish the structurally unsafe houses and cart away the remains. In San Juan Bautista that duty falls to one man with a loader for what must be heading for 200 houses to be cleared (related article from El Comercio).

In the mean time, people are sleeping in tents or temporary straw shelters, visible in at least one of the photographs I took. On Friday night I passed the night in a tent in San Juan Bautista's main square, fully clothed all the way to my jacket in a sleeping bag and I barely slept from the intense cold. I'll admit that I couldn't wait to get home to a warm shower and my bed. One of the ladies we spoke to last week, when we were conducting the census in Pueblo Nuevo, told us that the worst part about the nights was not the dark from lack of electricity, nor the cold, nor the uncomfortable sleeping conditions, but the screaming of children. Screaming out of fear of further tremors. Screaming out of suffering from the cold.