5.12: Rebuilding lives, remembering lives lost - Chengdu 2008

Some of you may be aware that today marks the one year anniversary of the earthquake that hit Sichuan Province, China. You may have seen your friends write a post in their blog, change their Facebook status or ask you to donate to this cause.

Raising awareness is one thing that I am sure that my fellow friends, whether Sichuanese or not, Chinese or not, have done very well. But what does it mean to you? So what, frankly, if you know that one year ago today (and a day ago, if we're being time-zone correct) an earthquake occurred? What I want to do is to raise sensitivity, to let you know how it affected me, and show you this piece of news through my eyes. For those of you who've read this on my Facebook, 'just keep scrolling, scrolling...'

Now, I am very much aware of how my other post today on softball is juxtaposed with this one, but as I said to one of my friends, I suppose it reflects the mixed sentiment that my Sichuanese family feel to this day, which is coincidentally my little sister's birthday.
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Rebuilding lives - Chengdu, 2008

I had originally planned to visit both Beijing and Chengdu this summer. After a phone call from my overly superstitious father, I had decided that volunteering for the Beijing Olympics wasn't worth a) the scorching sweat-fest, b) the 人山人海 crowds, or c) the potential terrorist activity. Rather, I decided to fly straight to Chengdu, where it pretty much has all three, to a lesser degree, topped off by continuous aftershocks. In fact, since I have arrived there have been two aftershocks, one of which I felt in the middle of a telephone interview! Not surprisingly, the interviewer was more than understanding when I informed him I was slightly distracted... No matter what the situation was like in Chengdu, nothing could prevent me from coming back to visit relatives whom I may no longer be able to see in future, to find out what the earthquake was like first-hand, the climate post-earthquake, and to do something about it. As soon as I came through the ShuangLiu airport, enormous red banners of appreciation, solidarity and encouragement overwhelmed my eyes, replacing the usual commercial billboards that I would usually be confronted with. Various areas of Sichuan government sent their messages of deepest gratitude to everyone who helped them during their time of need, all the while encouraging everyone to come together and rebuild their lives. Since Chengdu was not hit too badly by the earthquake, its people have managed to move on with their lives comparatively better than those in Wenchuan, Dujiangyan and other areas nearer the epicentre. But it touched everyone, and each has their own story to share. My grandfather is blind, diabetic, and overweight. My grandmother isn't in very good health either. They live on their own, on the 3rd floor of an apartment block with their housekeeper. During an afternoon nap at 2:28pm, my grandfather rose and fumbled around in the bed-side table for something, his head bobbing slightly. My grandma, slightly irked, urged him to keep his head still, worrying for his delicate state of health. But his head kept on bobbing, and soon the bed was shaking from side to side, and the wardrobe perpendicular to the bed shook violently. In an attempt to avoid being hit by the wardrobe, my grandfather shuffled slowly a few inches along the bed. This would have done absolutely nothing if the earthquake had been just a bit stronger. The earthquake carried on for at least 2-3 minutes but felt like longer, and soon my aunt drove round to pick them up. She had been alone at the time of the earthquake, her husband stationed in Tibet, and her son inexplicably and worryingly ill in hospital. They came out slowly and downstairs into the courtyard, where everyone had gathered. Only then did my aunt rush to hospital to pick up my cousin. They spent the night in the car, parked outside. None of them slept a wink, kept awake by fear and the sound of sirens rushing back and forth. Later on they were informed that those were ambulances driving frantically to Dujiangyan, an area hit more severely by the earthquake. My grandmother on my father's side was in the Qingcheng mountains, a lush mountain retreat whose fresh air, taoist relics and mountain views make for a popular holiday destination. The Qingcheng mountains were more drastically hit than Chengdu, and she was playing mahjong while it happened, took shelter and then went back to it after it had ended...! The people of Chengdu eventually calmed down after the the first aftershock, as the news reported that the city would generally be safe and that no-one need worry. We were lucky though; Chengdu is an extremely densely populated city, with a total population of 10.44 million, 3.30 million of which live in the urban area. As one of the most developed cities in China in terms of GDP increase, social consumption etc., its repercussions would be more seriously felt.

This summer, I visited a prosthetic limb factory that had temporarily been turned into a recovery centre for young children recently fitted with prosthetic limbs as a result from the earthquake, an opportunity that afforded me me a much deeper and more personal insight into the earthquake, to see exactly how it changed lives. Here we met some children (and in some cases, their families, and even adopted/sponsoring families) and listened to their story.

In her school of 900, over 600 remain missing but only 200 are actually reported as missing. Her school in Pingyuan is located near the production site of military weaponry, therefore the country wishes to attract as little attention to the area as possible, downplaying the casualties of that village. This girl has lost half her leg, and because there is no padding her knees constantly rub against her limb. She hasn't been practising much, and both children find it rather painful to walk.

People living nearer the epicentre weren't so lucky; a week ago I had the opportunity to visit some people who had been affected by the earthquake. My mother's friend sponsors an earthquake orphan, and took us to see some children who she also comes to check upon whenever she has time. We arrived outside a modest looking residential area, which was in fact a factory for prosthetic limbs. The only other indicator of this, apart from the sign outside, was a wheelchair store located directly opposite. The survivors who need amputations have their operation elsewhere, and eventually come here for a prosthetic limb fitting, spending an average time of about a month here before they go home. In many cases, 'home' means tents in a foreign village, with or without parents.

'The boy who lived', literally. He's been getting used to his prosthetic limb for about two weeks and is quite good with it. It's more difficult for him; because he's lost his entire leg the limb rubs against his hip socket, and he needs a strap around his waist in order to attach it. It also means that he needs to remove it and re-attach it completely every time he goes to the toilet.

My sister and I were excited about this meeting, but also very nervous. The children's bravery and optimism was commendable; at one point, two children were engaging in a prosthetic limb fight, smashing their spongy legs against each other - recklessly, because they wouldn't feel a thing. Most children were at school during the time of the earthquake. The boy that I met was a twin; they were in the same year on the same storey but in different classes, and his brother made it out in time and lost only his hand. He, on the other hand, did not. Being on the first floor, it collapsed underground, where he stayed for over seventy-two hours. It took three hours for the rescue services to rescue him, after which his heart stopped beating five times. One doctor was on the verge of pronouncing him dead when another doctor refused to give up, and his heartbeat resumed. His father rushed over straight away from Moscow, and has been looking after him ever since.

Some children have no other option than to be brave; as one girl's baby sister was brought into the room I realised that these children have been forced to grow up earlier, and must shoulder more responsibility now. Some were more fortunate, and had support and assistance from their parents as they tested out their prosthetic legs. The government covers the entire cost of the prosthetic legs, which are worth at least tens of thousands of RMB. That doesn't mean it's not difficult though, and the limbs that the children are fitted with are often hard without padding. Every child has to return here each year and have a new fitting, and I assume that it's after their height stabilises that they obtain the better quality limbs. I wondered how jaded this experience would make them in years to come. Even now, nearly three months on, the inevitable and overwhelming attention and pity that we'd express as our hearts go out to them - how do they deal with it? How do they feel when complete strangers come bearing childrens' books, taking them out for dinner and showing them a kindness that seems only proper to real family?

Either way, I was relieved to see that people are indeed trying their best to deal with the situation and live as best as they can. I marvelled at the efficiency of the government and the balance the it struck between acknowledging, helping and consoling the affected whilst at the same time providing a gentle but firm encouragement and an unwavering faith in their future, without hardly a mention of the Olympic games (which is pret-ty hard to find nowadays!). Speaking of which, some child survivors of the earthquake competed in a mini children's Olympic games recently, and still managed an impressive win. 钢铁是怎么炼成的！With the ever imminent Olympics and the torch arriving tomorrow in Chengdu, I am somewhat glad that, despite the inevitable controversy over sport, politics and China (+ the potential terrorist attack in Chengdu that might eliminate this Wang, and millions of other Wangs in Chengdu), this will be an opportunity for the people of China, and Sichuan, to continue rebuilding their lives, and to feel the overwhelming solidarity that comes from such a national pride.

Currently in Paris, I am volunteering for 3 different charities; one is a general French charity, another is for Chinese abuse victims, but for me the most interesting one is a project that I am working on that aims to rebuild a part of Sichuan post-earthquake. I am the only translator for a giant construction project which will, by the construction of one giant school (uniting several middle schools and high schools which previously stood alone before the earthquake) possess new and improved facilities, with earthquake preventative measures as their main priority. I've lagged behind on this project and feel awful about it, and there is no excuse for 'forgetting' it now. I can't wait to go back to Sichuan this year and see how things are back at home. Natural disasters will always be just that - natural disasters (not karma/a just reward for China's stance on Tibet in the way that some ignorant, over-opinionated and under-IQed people claim ahem Sharon Stone). For every day, I'm sure that there's a corresponding natural disaster of some sort; and who's to say that we ought to remember this day more than another, just because of the number of innocent people/children killed? Every disaster is profound, and in this post I hope to have made today a little more accessible, a little more personal, and more meaningful for you.