Fear, admiration and hopelessness at ground zero of the earthquake

Cuma Gögremis, 52, repeats a sentence in broken English: “City done, city done.” His town of Pazarcik (population 28,000) in Kahramanmaras province, the epicenter of the earthquake, was destroyed. It wants to count. In addition, he points to the west, where he thinks the earth-shattering flaw is located. When he extends his arm, the ground shakes again. It’s light, noticeable and stops quickly.

Gögremis talked to his little brother Tolga Özgur and other local residents by the fire. They turn to run somewhere, even if they are outside under a tree and the risk is less. But the catastrophe of Monday’s massive earthquakes, which killed more than 24,000 people, including 20,000 in Turkey, has sunk deep within them and they can’t get out. Every day, say those who gather around the fire, they naturally wake up at four in the morning. It’s time for your houses to move.

Everything was shaking, because down there, about 18 kilometers deep, the earth was shaking with a force of 7.8. The effects are already visible on the outskirts of the city of Kahramanmaras, capital of the province of the same name. The devastation, seemingly erratic, grows as the road continues toward the city. Asphalt is struck in places like lightning. Warehouses, accordion houses, tilted-back streetlights stand aside.

Before reaching Kahramanmaras (population 1.1 million), the organization that manages disasters and emergencies in Turkey, AFAD, a ubiquitous giant, set up a base camp to coordinate rescue teams and register affected families. The attack is unstoppable. The horns of trucks and cars honk to come in and out empty, while the back is overflowing with crates of provisions. Within the area guarded by the Turkish police, dozens of civilians gather around campfires to warm up and eat. nervousness is inhaled; Five days have passed since the disaster.

visit by Erdoğan

Days pass and rescue operations enter a complicated phase where the hope of finding someone alive is minimal. Provinces like Kilis or Sanliurfa stopped looking for survivors. But there are miracles. Austrian Michael Erhard, of the organization SARUV, speaks while stroking his dog, a specialist in body search, while serving himself. On Friday morning, his team helped pull a woman and child from the rubble. They felt like they were there, but about twenty feet below, too deep for the dog’s nose. They used heavy machinery and managed to save her. What can you feel about something like that? “It’s a great feeling,” says Erhard, wide-eyed despite the long shifts – eight hours on, six hours off and vice versa – “I helped save two lives”.

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Another miracle: after 58 hours under the rocks, trapped in the basement, the Zaragoza fire team managed to free Adiyaman, about 160 kilometers from Kahramanmaras, which was also hit hard by the earthquakes – this Friday he was visited by President Recep Tayyip Erdogan – , for a 60-year-old lady. “I was dehydrated and in a state of shock, we almost didn’t get there,” says contingent coordinator Enrique Mur on the phone. A rescue team sent from Valencia to the same Turkish city also managed to save a father and his daughter alive. It was his third success. The other side of the coin shows Stephan Jay, a fellow member of the French fire brigade. After eight hours of work, after what they thought they heard, they found nothing. The odds are bad. The Spaniards from Adiyaman have already completed the work on the site and are on their way back to Spain. But teams from other countries are coming.

Earthquake survivors rest as a woman cries in a designated area in the Turkish city of Kahramanmaras on Friday. SUHAIB SALEM (REUTERS) Israeli rescuers search for survivors in the Turkish city of Kahramanmaras on Friday. Search for survivors under the rubble of buildings in the Turkish city of Kahramanmaras on Friday STOYAN NENOV (REUTERS) Rescue workers transport a 56-year-old survivor in Kahramanmaras, Turkey, on Friday.
RONEN ZVULUN (REUTERS) Ahmad and his wife Fatma Colakoglu view the remains of their destroyed house in Kahramanmaras (Turkey) on Friday RONEN ZVULUN (REUTERS) Overview of an earthquake-hit field in the city of Kahramanmaras (Turkey) on Friday – fair

RONEN ZVULUN (REUTERS) A woman next to the body of her cousin who died on Thursday in the earthquake in Kahramanmaras (Turkey) OZAN KOSE (AFP) Members of the Israel Defense Forces search for survivors under the rubble on Friday Kahramanmaras (Turkey) RONEN ZVULUN (REUTERS) ) A group of men pray for the burial of the victims at the Kahramanmaras cemetery on Thursday SUHAIB SALEM (REUTERS) Overview of damage to houses hit by Friday’s earthquake in Kahramanmaras STOYAN NENOV (REUTERS)

Halfway between this city and Kahramanmaras, the Gögremis brothers sat around a Pazarcik fire. They run the cafeteria across the street, tightly sealed, next to an AFAD-built air raid shelter with dozens of white plastic tents for those who have lost their homes. In the gardens outside, a blanket of discarded clothing almost completely covers the vegetation. Tolga, the younger of the two, aged 27, explains it herself: Anonymous donors started bringing clothes in boxes there – there are still some left – for the earthquake victims, but it has been a while since it request was made. On the opposite side of the street are two buildings with an outside slope, one of which has a semi-narrow facade at the entrance.

“I still can’t believe it,” says Cuma, “two earthquakes in a row, this is so unusual; I never thought I would find this garden like this.” Full of discarded clothes waiting for someone to use them. Nor had he counted on them having to pick up their elderly parents at four o’clock on Monday morning. “The first thing I did,” Tolga continues this time, “was grab a bottle of water.” He shows videos of the destruction of his house and spreads his hands full of plasters on his fingers to show the traces of that night. A few minutes after they walked out the door, Gögremis’ house collapsed.

Neighbors from the same Pazarcik neighborhood are approaching around the fire. One of them brings firewood to fan the flame. Thank you Fatma Dogan, a 65 year old teacher. She knows the neighborhood well, she guarantees, and many neighbors because she defends herself as a teacher. “I didn’t lose a family member,” says the woman, “but I lost my best friend who was already buried, even though I couldn’t go to the funeral.” “Tell me what happened here, please spread it,” the teacher asks with small eyes, tanned face and kind gesture. Heat increases with fire. Also the conversation. They talk about their origins, about discrimination, about traveling to Europe. They get mad at each other. They have no electricity or water; They live in a tent in sub-zero temperatures. You have become homeless.