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CHINA> Survivors
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In the line of duty: notes of quake experience
By Chen Jia (China Daily)
Updated: 2009-05-12 10:49 A year after the Sichuan earthquake, the tranquil beauty of the countryside near the Baihua Bridge en route to Yingxiu, the quake's epicenter, could trick a visitor into believing the disaster had not taken place at all.
Upon my return to the area at the heart of the devastation I lived through last year, I see smoke again, only this time, it's smoke from kitchens of the houses that have been rebuilt, not the smoke that was followed by rocks and stones that violently slammed down from the mountains surrounding us.
The mountainous road ahead on the 213 state highway is filled with massive lines of cars and trucks like never before, carrying not only soldiers, construction workers and geologists, but also groups of quiet old-timers, curious urban couples and cheerful children. The hours of traffic jams on the road offer a respite for the many people involved in the rebuilding efforts - it is a time for locals to sit outside their roadside houses, idly gaze at the becalmed passersby and chat. Under the blazing sun, new life is unfolding. I take the opportunity to think about my own good luck and remind myself that I was one of the fortunate ones when last May's catastrophe happened. At 2:20 pm on May 12, 2008, the last precise moment I could recall prior to the tremor, I was among a group of 45 people on our way to Chengdu, Sichuan's capital city, after taking part in a panda adoption ceremony at Wolong Nature Reserve. In our minivan was a driver, a staff from a public relations company and seven reporters, including myself. Others in the group of 45 were in other vehicles in front and behind. The others in my vehicle chatted and laughed easily, while I, sitting on the back row of seats, saved my ears for music and kept my eyes on the scenery outside. We had just passed over Baihua Bridge, Yingxiu's only overland link to the outside, and were about to dive deeper into the mountains. And then it happened. Without any warning, massive piles of rocks suddenly started streaming downhill, slamming onto the road in front of us. The rock-and-soil avalanche that followed almost immediately smashed our windows and crushed our doors. Smoke filled the air, obscuring vision as our driver reversed, jammed on the brakes and jumped out of the vehicle. Moments later, with the rest of us still inside, our minivan was flipped upside down and pushed to the edge of a ravine. My upper body was jammed against another reporter, my lower body pinned by another and my feet trapped beneath a third. Darkness literally filled the air. We heard the driver shouting, in apparent shock, telling us that our vehicle had been pummeled into an unrecognizable shape and saying that one person alone could not possibly save us all. As he ran off to seek help, those of us who could still move within the confined space tried our cell phones. No one could get a signal. As I started to realize that this was no ordinary mudslide, more and more rocks pounded the minibus, as if they were steel attracted to a magnet. My head was now upside down, firmly locked between the backseat and our backpacks. The minivan continued to slide, pushed along as it was pounded by rock after rock. I was aware of the fact that Minjiang River, Sichuan's primary watercourse, was at the bottom of the ravine. I could hear nothing of other people - only the thuds of rocks, the roar of landslides, collisions and the crash of water. |
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