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Mar. 12, 2010 Saturday February 27. It was a beautiful night with a full moon. For many, it was a night for parties at the end of their vacations. The earthquake struck at 03:34. Three minutes later, the world of nine million Chileans had changed. In Santiago, a few radio stations remained on the air. The only news of the disaster outside the metropolitan region came from the U.S., Chile had been hit by an Earthquake of 8.8 magnitude on the Richter scale with the epicenter 60 kilometers northeast of the city of Concepcion. Considering the shaking we received and the destruction reported in Santiago, it was safe to guess we were faced with the aftermath of the most powerful earthquake in known history. As news trickled in, it became evident the seismic waves had demolished an area three hundred miles long. It flattened over fourteen cities, countless villages. It brought down bridges, tipped over high-rise apartment buildings, demolished roads, schools, police stations, government administration buildings, hospitals. Downed overpasses blocked freeways. Three hours after the main quake, a tsunami hit. The city and naval base of Talcahuano was heavily damaged. The city of Constitucion nearly 75% wiped out. Coastal villages totally destroyed. Only those who had fled to high ground survived. Chile, a country rapidly catching up with the industrial world’s economies lay in ruins, the dreams of millions lay on the ground. Five hours after the main event, looting started. The lawlessness grew. A friend of mine, a priest living in Chicurreo, told me, “It only took five hours to return to the Stone Age.” Police was overwhelmed by the mobs who not only looted but set fire to warehouses. By Sunday, the government became almost invisible. Its main sin: To have cancelled the Tsunami warning issued by the navy. As usual, the news media reached the affected areas ahead of any form of assistance. The descriptions provided by journalists are shocking. The only bright spot is, the death toll is less than one thousand, light for the magnitude of such a catastrophe. Chile’s stringent building codes paid off. On Monday, Santiago has a face of normality. There is electricity in the public library. Buses are running. With grim faces people go to work, often finding their place of employment in ruins. The beginning of the school year is postponed as many schools are unsafe. From my desk at the library I can see the heavily damaged Divina Providencia church. At one o’clock I find out that the lady who fixes my lunches is missing. She, her mother and boyfriend left on Friday for Linares, a city that has been destroyed. No one has heard from them. I have lunch at a tiny sandwich shop, which has electricity and a TV set. They only sell one hot dog per person. The TV images are horrifying. Obviously frustrated, President elect Sebastian Pinera appeals to the government to act now! In various parts of the city youths, mostly college students volunteer to go to south. Collection points for food and clothing spring out. Truck owners join to haul supplies. These are spontaneous acts. The government says we don’t need foreign assistance. The question rises: How come Chile was able to respond and take relief supplies to Haiti faster than sending assistance to the Chilean south? Looting takes place in Santiago’s suburb of Lampa. Where is the Army? On Sunday, President Bachelet announced a State of Emergency. Darkness falls. Large parts of Santiago are still without electricity. Some parts of the city don’t have water. The Regions of Maule, Bio-Bio and Araucania face a third night of darkness, thirst and hunger. In Santiago the homeless sleep in parks. Tuesday. Repair crews reach my neighborhood and restore electric supplies. The Catholic church establishes collection points in all churches. Yhanks to elaborate detours, it is now possible to reach Concepcion overland. A large convoy will leave Santiago tonight. People flood supermarkets and take non-perishible “basic food baskets” to the churches. Pastas, rice, vegetable oil, milk, sugar. I add tea to my contributions. The supermarkets say they are selling at cost. Finally, President Bachelet decrees a State of Catastrophe. This puts the military in charge of the three affected regions. A curfew is declared. In a show of force, the Army moves into Concepcion with armored vehicles. The looting and robberies decreases. Escorted by soldiers, convoys of twenty trucks each will enter Concepcion the morning of Wednesday and curfew will be lifted at noon—Five days after the earthquake. Another scandal, in the suburb of Maipu, two high rises have tipped and threaten to fall. They are less than five years old. Shoddy construction is the culprit. The developers are threatened with criminal charges. This takes political overtones as the population suspects corruption. After twenty years in power, the Concentracion, a conglomerate of political parties, has stuffed the government with political cronies. In the last days in office, the ineffectiveness of these people is coming to the surface. Aftershocks continue, the strongest registering 5.9 on the Richter scale. A separate earthquake hits the far north. No damage reported. Another high rise tilts in Santiago. Residents evacuate and camp in the square in front of it. My pub has reopened and I have a cold draft beer by a sidewalk table. On the surface, Santiago seems like a normal and elegant city. A lot of the damage is invisible as it happened inside. Neat piles of debris betray that not all is well behind the walls. In many apartment buildings, people place bottles on the floor. The bottles will roll and alert occupants if the building tips. From South Africa, Mario Kreutzberger announces he will arrive on Thursday and will hold a 24 hour telethon. Even after he moved his TV program to Miami, he remains Chile’s most popular personality. On Friday at 10 PM the telethon starts. By morning it seems the goal to raise fifteen million dollars will not be reached. Kreutzberger, his assistants and artists keep going and manage to reach the goal at nine PM. Then something wonderful happens. People mob the banks to donate. Business reps line up outside the theater with checkbooks in hand. The telethon goes on beyond its closing time and raises thirty million dollars! This will provide funds for 22,000 emergency shelters and pay for the repair of a number of schools. Not all news are good. Forest fires threaten towns north of Valparaiso. On Thursday, March 11. The new president takes over. During the brief swearing in ceremony another quake hits, 6.7 on the Richter scale. The epicenter is in Rancagua. Sixty miles south of Santiago. Seven presidents, a large number of foreign delegations are present as the Congress building shakes. The new ministers are quickly sworn in mass and the building is evacuated. The president’s first act is to enlarge the State of Catastrophe to the Region of O’Higgins. Aftermath? Two weeks after the main event, the ground keeps shacking.
Over two hundred thousand people are homeless and things are still getting worse. We still don’t know if the quake of February 27 was the main event or the precursor of The Big One.
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