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.