in the bathroom

Is this the precious Boo freshly showered after yet another "caca" incident, or is she having a final fitting of her ghost costume for Halloween? I awoke this morning early and happy because today I was off work AND Big Jim and I planned a trip to my favorite garden center on the coast. What could be better. After leisurely reading my e-mail over a nice cup of coffee while the rest of the house slept, I headed for the shower. Hot water, soap, soap, ding. Ding? Ding! Mierda! My wedding ring! I slammed off the taps while simultaneously stretching my foot in attempt to cover the drainhole. I felt around the bottom of the tub through the suds, but no sign of the ring. Grabbing my bathrobe and a towel, I went in search of the flashlight to assist later as I peered down the drain. Not a glint of gold to be seen. Mierda! I should have removed the ring when I took off my watch. I should have used that silly little plastic mesh drain cover (but it's such a pain to clean!). I should have known better; my post-earthquake weight loss had made my wedding just a tad too loose. I should have, I should have, I should have.... Now what to do? Do I wake Big Jim, he who is known to bark a terse response to any question more complicated than "How are you? Did you sleep well?" before he has had two cups of coffee and a good hour to contemplate the meaning of life? Yes, I had to risk it. But I took the easier road and sent in Mr. Beebs to wake up his master. ;-) While Big Jim assessed the situation in the bathroom, I went to get him that much-needed first cup of coffee. I returned to find him fiddling with a wire coat hanger and his pliers, fashioning a crude retrieval device. Still wearing his pajamas bottoms, he crouched in the tub, peering down the god-forsaken drain. I sat rather dejectedly on the toilet, my half-washed hair dripping on the seat. "I suppose we could make a trip to the jewelry store since we are going to the coast anyway," I heard myself say. But I really didn't want a new ring. I wanted MY ring back, MY ring that matches HIS ring, that WE had to wait so long to have in the first place. Big Jim now tapped the outside of the tiled bathtub. "I am going to have to take this out to get to the pipes." "Oh no," I thought, "that's going to involve sledgehammers and tile cutters and probably a plumber---all with no guarantee of finding the ring." "No, Big Jim," I found myself saying, "really, it's not worth the bother." He came to me and took my hand and with tears welling up in his eyes said, "No, this is your wedding ring. We need to get it back. We will do whatever it takes. {slight pause for suspense} Bloody good job I found it lying on the floor beside the tub!" {produce found ring to much delight of wife} His acting was brilliant. Especially without the prerequisite two cups of coffee. :-) But my time was still not done in the bathroom this morning. Not only did I have my own shower to finish, but later on the goat track, my precious Boo found another pile of fresh caca to play in. But before her bath, I made sure to store the ring in a safe place. AND use the stupid little plastic mesh drain cover. Just in case.... Happy Halloween, everyone! Hasta pronto, mylifeinspain

another plea

The article below was published today on the BBC News web site. If you have not yet donated to the earthquake relief, I urge you to do so. And tell your friends and family the same. If your resources are tight, you can still do your part---call your congresspeople, your MPs, your whatever, and demand that they step up. I know, everyone already feels tapped out after the tsunami and then hurricanes Katrina, Rita, and now Wilma. I read of this giving "fatigue". But unless people in Pakistan get help soon, the current official death count of 59,000 is only going to increase. And needlessly so. mylifeinspain and Big Jim thank you.    We took this photo from our rescue helicopter looking down into the Kaghan Valley. The landslide-riddled road is the only road. More helicopters are STILL needed for the relief efforts. Rich world 'failing' on quake aid Many of the world's richest countries have so far failed to support a UN appeal for victims of the South Asian quake, a top UK-based charity has said. The charity, Oxfam, said less than 30% of $312m (£175m) sought by UN aid agencies has been pledged. It said the US, Japan, Germany and Italy had given less than their "fair share" and others nothing at all. The criticism comes as donor nations meet in Geneva on Wednesday to try to increase funding for the quake appeal. The UN had earlier warned that a serious lack of funding and practical difficulties, such as blocked roads, were creating what it described as a death trap for some 800,000 survivors. The UN says up to 20% of those affected by the earthquake have still received no help. Pakistan estimates the 8 October earthquake killed more than 53,000 people, most of them in the portion of Kashmir it administers. Some 1,400 people died in Indian-controlled Kashmir, officials say. 'Pay fair share' "The logistical nightmare in Pakistan is bad enough without having to worry about funding shortfalls as well," Oxfam's Policy Director Phil Bloomer said in a statement. HOW TO DONATE Unicef UNHCR Disasters Emergency Committee (UK) World Food Programme Kashmir International Relief Fund Red Cross/ Red Crescent "Governments meeting in Geneva... must put their hands in their pockets and pay their fair share. The public will be shocked that so many rich government have given so little," he said. Oxfam said that the US, Japan, Germany and Italy have given much less then they could have done according to the size of their economies. It also said seven rich nations - Belgium, France, Austria, Finland, Greece, Portugal and Spain - had so far donated nothing at all. Oxfam warned that the gap between an emergency appeal being announced and funds actually being received could mean the difference between life and death for may thousands of survivors. Only about 20% of the money requested in the appeal has actually been given, UN relief agencies estimate. Oxfam also said current UN plans for a special Global Emergency Fund was seriously underfunded. The new $1bn (£561m) fund was approved by world leaders in September. It is supposed to act as a centralised UN pot of money, which can be handed out in emergencies. But so far that too had failed to attract a fifth of the funding it needed, Oxfam said.

life

One week has passed since Big Jim and I returned from Pakistan, and two weeks since we were rescued from the mountain high in the Northwest Frontier Province. I sit in our lounge with a cup of coffee and Mr. Beebs curled up sleeping beside me, precious Boo stretched out at my feet, gently snoring. Nothing and everything has changed. Yesterday I reread the last journal entry I made before I left for Pakistan. I had been troubled by a sense that something was going to go wrong on the trip, but I was unable to discern whether I was just being agoraphobic again or whether my fears had any merit. I worried about the dogs being orphaned, about my time on earth being cut short. Before I shut down my computer that night, I sent a final e-mail to my mother with contact numbers of everyone here in Spain, "just in case." I told her everything would be fine, not to worry, but it was myself I was most trying to reassure. When we returned from Spain, our first telephone call was from our neighbor here. He told me he had had a bad feeling about my travels to Pakistan that same Friday night. He had gone as far as to dial our phone number, so that he could warn me, but then hung up before the first ring, believing I would think him mad. He asked what I would have done if he had called. I told him I would have done what I did do---despite my own intuition telling me otherwise---I would have gone to Pakistan. ************************************* I had never experienced an earthquake before in my life, and for those readers who have not, I can only tell you earthquakes are incredibly surreal. An earthquake is initially very disorienting and then terrifying, but that is not to say---should one remain conscious and uninjured---that there are not moments of excitement and, dare I say, pleasure. Do many of us not pay good money to be shaken up and thrown about, albeit under the auspices of rigorous equipment testing and safety regulatory boards, in amusement park rides? Are we not trying to recreate in ourselves the same adrenaline rush that follows something like an earthquake but in a safe environment without perilous consequence? But during an earthquake, there is an absolute loss of control of one's surroundings, everything acting as it should not. Mountains are not supposed to move; the ground is not supposed to split open; the terra is decidedly not firma. I had but a few moments to accept that should the roots of the nearby giant pines no longer be able to hold onto the craggy shifting earth, life as I knew it would change dramatically and possibly cease altogether. At some point, however, I found peace in the realization that if my time truly was going to end, I was at least going to die in one of the most beautiful places I had ever seen, that this would be the world's last gift to me. I was originally going to title this post "death", but in the end it just didn't seem right. As I put my fingers to the keyboard, I was reminded of a story Chen related to me at the reunion dinner we had one night after we all returned to Islamabad. He had spent the past few days in Balakot, reporting on the horrendous situation there. He was present when a 14-year-old girl was pulled from the rubble that had once been her school. Although several schoolmates had clung to life for awhile after the earthquake, she was now the only survivor. After five days of being trapped, not surprisingly her first request was for water. Reluctantly accepting the only beverage available, orange juice, it then dawned on her that she was surrounded by press people. She tossed the OJ aside and then begged for a mirror, horrified by the thought that she would appear in print not looking her best. Everything and nothing had changed. Hasta pronto, mylifeinspain

the earthquake: part II

When the sun rose the day after the earthquake, the rains that soaked the fragile earth during the night had finally stopped. We gingerly pushed back the blankets, for the temperature had plummeted in the darkness. Nasir had already been to the FWO base, and the reports from Officer Shakeel were not good. Landslides spurred by the rain had closed more of the road, although work had already begun to clear them. We could do nothing but wait. We spoke with J-P, the French diplomat. He had planned to sleep in his tent, which he pitched in a clearing at the camp, but the scores of aftershocks that continued to rock the ground during the night did not create an environment for peaceful slumber; so he took his sleeping bag and moved inside his 4x4. Big Jim and I moved a couple garden chairs to the clearing and just sat, waiting for updates from the FWO. Most of the staff at the camp seemed annoyed by our presence, but this was true even before the earthquake. Ramazan (as Ramadan is called in Pakistan) had begun the previous Thursday, so many of the men were fasting and not doing much of anything. The day before, the cook refused to even make us tea in the afternoon, and we eventually commandeered the camp kitchen and made it ourselves. At dinnertime, we were told only daal---which turned out to be more like lentil soup---was available, even though we could smell meat on the grill. Later, Big Jim and Nasir walked in as the staff broke their fast with chicken, lamb, bowls of vegetables, and plenty of tea. Our presence was merely being tolerated. But at the moment, we had nowhere else to go, so we ate breakfast of our own bisquits and washed them down with our own water. By 1 pm, we were advised the road had been cleared as far as Kaghan, a village about 25 km down the mountain. We again packed up the car, and J-P agreed to follow us in the 4x4. Driving conditions were still precarious. We had been about 45 miles from the epicenter when the earthquake struck, and we were now traveling toward "ground zero"---the destruction became even more striking. Having reached Kaghan, we decided to push on, but after another 10 miles or so, we were stopped by a car heading north. Nasir spoke with the driver. He and the occupants---the three Chinese journalists Li, Chen, and Chow, hereafter affectionately referred to as "the boys"---had been at another hotel in Naran when the earthquake struck and (foolishly) set off down the mountain as soon as the ground stilled. They had slept in the car the following night and had now been turned back by yet another impassable landslide. FWO officers had advised them they expected the road to be closed for 15 days. Fifteen days!!!! Big Jim and I counted our money. We had enough with us to stay at the camp for three weeks should that become necessary, but whether the camp would have us was another story. The boys, however, had heard there was one operational landline back in Kaghan, so we headed back north up the valley. It wasn't difficult to find the PCO as a line stretched out the door. Big Jim planned to call the Colonel back in Islamabad, and I hastily scribbled down my parents' number so that the Colonel could try to let them know we were okay. J-P. called the French embassy, and the boys were able to contact their news bureau; we figured between our three avenues we had a good shot of having someone send us help, most likely in the form of a helicopter as Big Jim knew of the nearby helipad, which he passed when he went trout fishing just north of the village. Nasir also spoke with his family and was relieved to find them well. So we all returned back to the camp at Naran feeling positive. When we arrived (again) in Naran at 4:30 pm, Big Jim was still fuming from the shoddy service we had been receiving and had words with the manager. As they talked just outside my open car window, my growling empty stomach spoke up and added its two cents, "I want chicken. And an omelette for breakfast!" The manager was taken aback, and according to Nasir, we scared him a little because a virtual banquet was put out for us that night. Unfortunately, although my stomach was screaming for food, I could get little down but a bit of bread and some rice. Fortunately, however, the boys made up for my lack of appetite, so we didn't anger the chef again. We joked that we needed to add a Russian to our coterie to complete our own little version of the UN Security Council as we already had representatives from the UK, USA, France, and now China. If we had to be two of the only six foreigners stranded in the Kaghan Valley, we could not have asked for better companions. That night, J-P and the boys moved into cabins near ours, and we all prayed for no rain and no more large earthquakes. Big Jim and I both feared another large quake could take down the mountain just across the river from our cabin, and if we didn't get swept away in the landslide, we worried the debris would clog the river and cause a flood, which we had seen on our drive further south. But we also had hope that we would soon be rescued and that our bad dream would finally end.

The three occupants of this car did not survive.

Complete and utter devastation.

The children amazed us with their resiliency. They were frightened, but not enough to not be delighted by the wonders of digital photography.

This boy could speak some English, so we had a little chat. As he and I watched yet another avalache, he said, "The mountain is falling."

People stopping to say prayers.

the baggage

I woke up early this morning to the sound of raindrops dancing on the roof. My first thought---"Oh crap, this is the last thing the relief workers need." I turned over and tugged on the duvet, causing Mr. Beebs to groan and shift his position as well. It was then I remembered I was no longer in Pakistan but rather thousands of miles away in Spain. Yesterday Big Jim went out in the village to buy bread. He ran into one of our English neighbors, who greeted him with, "Bet you had a fun time then." Neighbor then went on to say, "You guys should make some money here, sell your story to the papers." Big Jim, still jetlagged and still full of much raw emotion nine days after the earthquake, replied by saying there was nothing fun about our experience and how dare neighbor make such a suggestion that we gain financially on the misfortune when so many people are suffering and homeless. Angry neighbor answered back, "Well sod you then," and stormed off. It took several days before I was able to sleep with the lights turned off, and my famous appetite vanished. It is slowly returning, but my loose jeans that barely stay up are evidence of pounds lost. I started smoking again almost as soon as the ground stopped shaking. We both know it is going to take time for our wounds to heal. As we begin to resume the motions of a normal life, we watch each other carefully, looking for signs of the other having difficulty coping. We know how lucky we are to have each other, and our bond strengthens. Still I reach for another cigarette. I know I can't allow this slip to go on much longer, but for the moment it is a needed crutch. I have the luxury of time, something I know too many others, still waiting for food, for shelter, do not. I stub out the half-smoked cigarette and head for the shower, the one place where I allow myself to cry. Hasta pronto, mylifeinspain

the earthquake: part I

First, just wanted to let everyone know Big Jim and I are safely back in Spain. We picked up the pups from the kennel this morning, so the family is now reunited and very happy to be together again. :-) Our departure from Pakistan was difficult for both of us. On one hand, we are relieved to be back home where we can begin to restore some sense of normalcy to our lives. On the other, it is incredibly hard to leave our friends in Pakistan to pick up the pieces of a shattered country and the countless lives that have been affected by this tragedy. We fear the current death counts reflect only a fraction of those who have been killed and whose bodies may never be recovered. We remain profoundly sad. Another huge thank-you to everyone who has sent e-mails and left comments. Big Jim and I are eternally grateful for your love and support. ********************************************* Just before the earthquake struck, I decided to go to the edge of the river, which was down a small bank below our stone cabin, to take in a bit of the tranquil setting before breakfast, which we were to have at 9 am. When the earthquake began at 8:50, it took a couple seconds for me to realize exactly what was happening, the ground below me twisting and turning like the floor of an amusement park funhouse. There then was a series of very loud cracks as rock began to free itself from the mountain just opposite our cabin and then begin its long freefall into the valley. I watched some boulders fall into the river, realized the danger, and then turned around toward the cabin. The pine trees that lined the bank were moving in such a way that made them appear like figures sliding back and forth on a fussball table. For several moments, I was frozen as I tried to figure out how I was to escape. There was a sensation of being trapped by the falling boulders on one side and the girating trees on the other. Just then, Big Jim came running out from the cabin. He, rather comically, had been sitting on the toilet when the quake began. He first realized something was amiss when the wall in front of him split open a couple inches. And then the floor began to shake. He managed to deal with the immediate issue of getting his pants pulled up and dashed out as debris began to fall inside our bedroom. The stone chimney detached but did not fall; rather, it danced on the roof performing a complete pirouette before finally coming to rest just a few inches from its original mark. Big Jim found me still by the river's edge. He yelled to me to come to him, but I could see no clear path through the trees. He managed to get to the top of the embankment and pull me up. We then ran to a clear area, after which our memories are still a bit blurry. I can recall watching car-sized boulders continue to fall close to where I had been standing, and I remember repeatedly saying "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god." But that is all. When the ground finally became still, there were a few quiet minutes before the valley was full of wails and mournful cries. A teenaged girl had been killed just across the river, and many people were injured. We stood in horror as groups carrying the injured and dead came across the ricketedy wooden footbridge that joined our camp to the mountainside opposite the river. Then we began a frantic search for Nasir. He had been staying in another area of the camp. At this point, we had no idea of the scope and scale of the earthquake's devastation. But from the continuing cries elsewhere in the village, we knew it was bad. We eventually found Nasir. Thankfully, he too was uninjured. When the earthquake happened, he was outside washing the car and giving it a look-over in anticipation of our return to Islamabad later that morning. Nasir was emotionally shaken, having also viewed the bodies being carried across the bridge. He said in a soft voice to Big Jim, "There are dead people, sir." The details of the next few hours also are still a bit fuzzy for us. It was during this time that we met J-P., a French diplomat who had arrived at the camp the previous night. The countless aftershocks also began very soon after the initial earthquake, coming in tortuous waves every two to five minutes. There was little information available at the camp, so after a few hours, we set out in the car to try to get a better handle on the situation. We did not get far. A few miles out of Naran, we were stopped by our previously mentioned hero, Officer Shakeel, who advised us the road was completely impassable just a few hundred yards further. We returned to the camp, where a generator was now providing sufficient power to run a television. It was only then that we learned how far reaching the quake had been. Heavy losses were reported in Mansehra and Balakot, two cities situated at the southern end of the Kaghan Valley. After seeing the fallen apartment building in Islamabad, Nasir was worried about the safety of his family. But of course we had no way to contact anyone outside of the immediate area, and we began to realize our return to Islamabad was not going to happen that day. Although our stone cabin fared better than others, it was no longer structurally safe, and I insisted I wanted to sleep outside in a tent that night. However, Big Jim convinced me that one of the wood-framed cabins at the camp would be okay, as well as much warmer. Nasir moved the car to a clearing on the grounds and bunked in there, too nervous to go inside any building of any sort. We went to bed wearing our clothes that night; I refused to even remove my shoes. I wanted to be ready to run should it become necessary again. Big Jim wisely had brought a flashlight with him, which we left by the cabin door. We planned an escape route and established a meeting point with Nasir. The aftershocks continued through the pitch black of night, and an added fear was the heavy rain that persisted for hours, encouraging more landslides. Not surprisingly, neither of us got much sleep that night. Hasta luego, mylifeinspain Some photos from October 8, 2005:
Happier times in Naran.
Clouds of dust envelope the mountain near our cabin, immediately post-quake.


Our cabin bedroom.
Other damaged cabins at the camp in Naran.

The earthquake struck during the tourist offseason, so fortunately these cabins were unoccupied.


If you look closely, you can just make out a crushed jeep under the collapsed roof. This photo was taken in the village of Naran.
Locals from Naran gathering near the river, where the body of a young boy sadly was found. Out of respect for the injured and grieving, we took no further pictures of personal suffering during our time in Naran and the Kaghan Valley.
On the "road"....Nasir drove while Big Jim and I kept watch for more falling rock.





Perspective is a little difficult to judge here---these two fallen boulders were the size of a block of flats.

october 7

As Big Jim and I were planning our vacation, my one request to him was that I see mountains, big mountains. There is something about their strength and beauty that always has been a tremendous draw to me. Pakistan is home to five 20,000+ foot mountains, so there is no shortage of tall peaks. Last weekend, we were originally to visit Lahore, which is a city to the south of Islamabad. However, when we lunched with the Colonel and his family and spoke with the travel agents as we booked our trip to Besham and Gilgit, from where we could travel to Hunza and the Chinese border, they all encouraged us to skip Lahore and instead see Naran. I left the decision to Big Jim because it was he who more strongly wanted to visit Lahore; the trip up the KKH during our second week was the part of our travels I had planned. So, the first of a couple last-minute changes altered our fate. We set out early Thursday for Naran, which is a seven-hour drive from Islamabad. It was an amazingly picturesque drive through countryside and small towns, including places that everyone now has heard of, like Balakot, where 95% of its people perished in the earthquake, and Mansehra, which also suffered heavy losses.

Fresh trout---from river to plate on the same day.


Wait for me!!!!!
Arriving in Naran. We were given a riverfront cabin, and that night we dined on grilled trout that the local fisherman had caught from the river that morning. The camp was incredibly peaceful and quiet---we were the only guests that night. Big Jim and I went to bed early because we had booked a jeep to head up into the mountains Friday. The destination was Lake Saif-ul Muluk, from where we would ride horses to the base camp above. Local legend says that the lake is inhabited by fairies. I cannot say for sure, but I would like to think so. It was one of the most spectacular days of my life.




And Nasir enjoyed himself, too!


Stopping for a horse snack.

Cityslickers, Pakistani style. :-) That evening, before we headed off for bed and heavy sleep, Big Jim and I discussed our morning departure time with Nasir. Big Jim said he wanted to set off early, so that we would be back in Islamabad before dark. I said, "Big Jim, we are on holiday for bloody sake. Let's have breakfast at 9 and leave by 10." He relented. My vacation laziness most likely saved us. Had we left the camp early, we would have been in Balakot when the earthquake struck. More on the earthquake itself next time. Hasta luego, mylifeinspain P.S. We continue to urge people to make donations. Big Jim and I have given all the refunded money we received from our cancelled travel plans to the President's relief fund here in Islamabad. For other suggested organizations, see my previous entry. Thank you!