I need to go out. I need to sort out a SIM card to be in touch with the outside World and I am curious to see the city, so I think i´ll take a motocyclet and go exploring a bit.
It´s hot out there! Like really hot! Sweltering in at 32 degrees centigrade (or 90 degrees if you prefer the other one), i feel my skin begin to melt like candle-wax, and i soon realize i am not going to get very far.
It´s after 2.30pm and the roads are completed filled with noisy polluting traffic; a myriad of vehicles from battered and broken vans, scooters to deluxe 4WDs with the traffic police orchestrating this weird menagerie – could this be rush-hour? Clearly for some, the earthquake is just a passing moment of history as they move on with their lives. But even more clearly, not so for others.
Outside the Kinam Hotel is a square. The square is completely full of make-shift tents so you cannot see whether there is concrete or grass underneath. There must be more than one thousand people in there in an area less than 100 metres square, with every square millimetre of ground covered. Three outside latrines omit a vile stench of pish and shite. Whilst most of the tents are the basic and simple fabric kind, others use their washing as their only form of shade and shelter.
Faces stare out – many with curiosity, others in resignation, and others in a state of complete disbelief and shock despite the elapse of more than two months. I have my camera with me, but I am unable to shoot a single shot. I wouldn´t know where to start and it certainly isn´t pretty! Yet I do feel it should be documented – maybe i´ll review and reflect on this again.
On the adjacent streets business continues. Artists trying to sell their paintings, flower vendors, snack-sellers, bootleg Marlboro cartons, anything to make a buck. Life carries on in its various forms.
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