Directly after of the May 12th Nepal earthquake, myself and a group of friends decided to hike to a neighboring village/town to see if we could help. We had already made sure everyone was safe in out village and we had heard that a popular hotel (Hotel Langtang) had fallen down the mountain side in the next village over, a few kilometers away. (See the entire story of that day here).
As we approached where the hotel was suppose to be, I scouted ahead a few blocks to ensure the way was clear. The narrow street I was walking through was built on the spine of the mountains. The cracked concrete lead either up or down. The street itself was covered in broken bricks, shattered glass, splintered wood, and bent rebar. More than once I tripped over the rubble as I wondered down the apocalyptic scene, alone. The only company I had were the singing birds. To my right were old stone walls, holding back part of the mountain side. To the left were buildings, built right on the mountains edge. Some of the buildings were full of cracks; some were detached from the side of the mountain, precariously balanced, waiting for the next strong aftershock to send them sliding down the mountain side.
I figured that I would know when I had gotten to the hotel because I would see rescuers scouring the rubble in a desperate search for survivors. Instead, I passed the hotel. I asked a local and was directed back the way I came. I only ended up finding the hotel because I found the sign on the edge of the street. The hotel itself was completely destroyed. There was nothing left. The entire hotel had cascaded down the side of the mountain. As I stood there, alone, I tried to figure out what to do.
I have never felt so alone and powerless in all my life. I knew there might be survivors under the rubble but because of the continued aftershocks, it would be insanely dangerous for me to search the hotel rubble. I could still hear portions of the hotel settling and bricks falling. The passing villagers told me there wouldn’t be any survivors. The passing search and rescue teams said the same thing; they were headed to another area of the city to search. I silently prayed, wondering what to do. Just then, my Squad Leader walked up and told me that we were going to get out of the village. We were going to leave our medical team to help the search and rescue teams that were just beginning to show up and the rest of us were going to leave. It was just too dangerous for us to be there, especially since we didn’t have any specialized skills that would help. We would only be getting in the way of the professionals and endangering ourselves at the same time. If we got hurt, that would mean less resources for someone under the rubble. It made logical sense to me but I hated the feeling of having to leave the village when there was so much need.
As we navigated our way out of the city, search teams continued to pour in. The Red Cross, the Nepali Army, and medical helicopters made there way in. My heart sank as complete helplessness hit me like a wave. I am so very small in this very big world. People were in desperate need for help but I couldn’t do anything. I hated that feeling. I left the village, constantly praying. Praying that God’s angels would miraculously rescue those under the rubble. As the night passed, we continued to hear reports of more and more people missing. The next morning we heard reports that there were close to 200 people missing in that village alone.
Keep praying for Nepal.
