How do you write a research paper without any research? How do you talk about that which you can’t even put into clear thoughts in your head. These have been the struggles that I have come across as I have tried to write my paper. I have started five or six different papers over the course of this year and have struggled to come up with something that I am happy with, feel a sense of accomplishment for, or for that matter, enabled me to gain a sense of closure. I find myself here at the “precipice” of this semester with no sense of what I should write or what people want to hear so I have concluded that I can only write this for myself. I hope to write about my experience in a way that that I might at least be able to try and convey what it was like not to just live through an 8.8 earthquake, but to see a the different sides of human nature that are invoked because of such a traumatic event.
I left to go to Chile in the first week of January with my wife. I had written a proposal to study the plazas of southern Chile as a look into Latin American influences into urban design. I had picked this topic because I had been fascinated with the cities and its influences on urban life ever since I had spent time walking up and down the streets of Concepcion as a missionary. We rented an apartment on the fourth floor of a seven-story apartment building in the downtown
district of Concepcion. I spent most of my time in the Plaza de Armas at the center of Concepcion. I was also able to make trips with my wife to the beaches that were up the coast
One of our favorite beaches was at this small town called Dichato.
I had completed most of my core research that I had planned with regards to specific plazas and had decided to take a trip to tour the more southern cities and towns of Chile to get a broader look at there design and connection to the people. It was also about this time that my wife, who we had found out was pregnant shortly before the trip, decided that she need to return home because it was becoming increasingly hard for her to deal with the traveling and food while being pregnant. I had come into contact with the Alarcon family, whom I had known from my time in Chile as a missionary, and so my wife and I came up with the solution that we should move in with them and that she would return to the United States early. She felt more comfortable leaving me in a foreign country knowing that I would be living with this family and because they were going to accompany me on my trip to down south.
She left on the tenth of February. I can distinctly remember watching the plane take off and disappear in the sky. It was one of those small airports where planes taking off and landing happened on a hourly basis, as opposed to by the minute so that you could be sure which plane was which. It was the farthest and longest we had ever been apart. I think the reason I remember that moment so vividly was because of the two struggling emotions that I had. I was pretty sad to see her go because we had planned to go on this adventure together from the beginning. The other emotion was a sense of relief. At that time I think I felt it because I knew that she would be more comfortable at home but also that I would not have to worry about her. Its interesting how much that feeling of relief intensified and took on new meaning as things played out.
I was now living in the second storey of a house in one of the suburbs of Concepcion. I was sharing a room with one of the boys from the family since they had a small house and I was a bachelor now. It was the night of the twenty- sixth. I had finished talking to my parents and wife via Skype and for that reason had brought the computer upstairs with me instead of leaving it downstairs. I had planned a trip to one of the southern costal towns to visit in the morning and so I decided to go to bed earlier that night (like at 11:30 instead of 1:00 am).
I had thought about earthquakes before, mainly I had seen them on in movies or on the news. I remembered as a kid doing earthquake drills at school after the earthquake in LA in 1994. We were told to go and hide under our desks. I think in my mind I always had the idea that I would just go and run outside when there was an earthquake so that I wouldn’t have to worry about having a building collapse on me. Its funny to my now to think about those ideas and how ludicrous they are now but how plausible I thought they were before the earthquake.
I am not sure what woke me up first if it was the house starting to rumble or if it was the mother shouting “earthquake”. I jumped out of my bed just about when the real movement started. I don’t know really know how to describe it in a way that justifies how It felt. One comparison would be to standing in the back of a pickup that was going 40 mile per hour on a very bumpy road. It was at that moment that I knew that there would be no running out the house. I had already been thrown against the wall twice. The only idea I could think of was to brace myself in the doorway. I did so and saw the little boy, my roommate, unable to get out of the bed because of the movement so I grabbed him and pulled him to me. I could see across the hall in the other doorway the silhouette of the father. He was doing the same thing. The mother had attempted to run down to the girls’ bedroom at the end of the wall but had been thrown to the ground and so I could just barely see her crawling to the girl’s room at the end of the wall.
The sound was incredible. You had to scream to even be heard a few feet away. The whole house was a concert of glass breaking, pictures falling, and furniture crashing into each other and the walls. You could hear the pops of electric lines breaking, the spray of waterlines and creaking of the walls themselves. The earthquake lasted somewhere between a minute and a half to two minutes, but it felt like forever. I don’t think I had many coherent thoughts during that time but I do remember telling myself over and over that it’s almost over and then wondering why it wasn’t over yet.
When it did finally stop we were left in a dark silence. I just stood in that doorway with the little boy, finally the mom cried out asking if everyone was okay. Then the dad made his way to the stairs and went down first. You couldn’t see so you didn’t know the house was like and what dangers you could be walking into. The door was jammed shut so we had to break it to get out (all of the windows had bars on them so even though the glass had broken out of them you couldn’t go out a window.) I was the last one to get out of the house and found myself running across the street in a pair of Sunday pants that I had found on the ground with no shirt and no shoes. We gathered as a family in the field that was across the street from the house. The first thing we did was to pray. I don’t think we did it because we were super religious but because we were very scared and didn’t know what to do. Whatever our intentions were, it was the right thing to do. I remember feeling calm, kind of like I had when Michelle, my wife, had left in the airplane. I had the thought “ I am sure glad that Michelle isn’t here” and then “I hope she doesn’t find out about this earthquake because she is going to be worried and not know that I am fine.”
There was a full moon that night but it did us no good because a thick fog had rolled in too, if anything it just made the whole scene more spooky. You could hear people crying and screaming in the distance but you couldn’t see them. You could see people one moment but then they would disappear the next. It felt very surreal and I kept wondering if this was all a dream. The dad and I left the family in the field and started going down the street chasing after the ghosts and following the cries for help trying to help anyone that we could find. It was about this time that I realized that people had changed. I am not sure what the right word to use to describe it but it was like any kind of social norms were gone everyone had been reduced to many of the base instincts and feelings. You would see complete strangers crying and hug each other and people in cars speeding down the street willing hit anyone or anything that was in their way. The earthquake had a very polarizing effect and showed people at their best or at their worst.
It took us about fifteen minutes to realize that we were still in danger because of the possibility of a tsunami. We were about ten minutes from the coast but we were only about 300 yards from the river that emptied into the ocean and so definitely in the flood plane if a tsunami came. The dad and I ran back to house and started to feverishly unbury the truck that got covered in the process. It was about this time that another family that was good friend of the family pulled up in their car. Between the two dads and I, we were able to get the truck out and everyone piled into the two cars. I was in the car with the family friends and within about five minutes of driving, we had lost the truck. I think everyone had the same idea and so it was one massive traffic jam. Thank goodness the tsunami didn’t come up the river like everyone was worried because we would have been in a mess. In hindsight it was probably a mistake to think we were in danger of a tsunami as far inland as we were. It ended up being more dangerous driving because of all the collapsed roads
and debris that made driving anywhere practically impossible. I think everyone had just one thought and it was to flee the area. We ended up just pulling off to the side of the road on a little hill and just sitting and waiting.
We sat in that car for probably about three hours. I am not sure exactly how long it was. That is when I started to come to the realization of what had just happened. We could get a little bit of news out Santiago, which had not been hit as bad. They reported things that we had a hard time believing but then I think the feeling began to be impressed upon us of how big this really was. Even to this day it kind of blows my mind. I have inserted some statistics of the earthquake for no other reason than because I have a hard time helping others and even myself understand the magnitude of what had happened. According to some different sources “Seismologists estimate that the earthquake was so powerful that it may have shortened the length of the day by 1.26 microseconds and moved the Earth's figure axis by 8 cm. Precise GPS measurement indicated the telluric movement moved the entire city of Concepción 10 feet to the west. The capital Santiago experienced a displacement of almost 10 inches west, and even Buenos Aires, about 840 miles from Concepción, shifted 1.5 in. It is estimated that Chile's territory could have expanded 1.2 km² as a result.” Even as I read up on the facts of the earthquake, I have a hard time qualifying all of it into the experience. It was kind of the same sensation sitting in the car listing to radio minus the factuality of the information that we got. The time spent in that car was the foretelling of much of the next two weeks: little to do and much to think about.
When the sun came up and the threat of a tsunami had passed we decided to return home. I returned to the house of the family friends since we had lost contact with Alarcon Family in the truck and there was no way to communicate. The ability to communicate or not takes on a whole new meaning in such a situation. The foremost thought on most people’s mind was the welfare of their loved ones. The inability to communicate through internet, cell phone, landline, or even in many cases in person creates a stress and anxiety that can’t easily be dealt with. I was unique in that situation in that for the most part, I knew that all my love ones were okay. I was just worried about what they thought of me. I remember thinking things like maybe its not that big and they haven’t heard about it in the USA or maybe they just won’t watch the news. I can’t explain it real well but think if you were to take the cell phone away from a teenager and the way they act. You take that moody sad state they are in, add in a real reason to communicate and the anxiety of not knowing the well-being of those that you want to communicate with, and you pretty much have the vast majority of the country; both those that were in the earthquake and then those that knew people that lived in the area.
I spent the day cleaning and scavenging for a food from the house. The Alarcon family showed up about 10 a.m.. They had been to our house to see whatcondition it was in. They found that the house had cracked in half. You could see a crack running down one wall across the foundation and then up the other side. It seemed that the only thing that was keeping the house from splitting right open was the wood beams that supported the second storey. There was a water break and a gas leak that they didn’t know was at their house or at the neighbors. Needless to say the house was a complete wreck and unlivable. I was able to end up with a pair of jeans, a couple of shirts, my computer and a few other things that we could find in the bedroom. I had kept all of my research material on the first floor so it was gone. Its funny at the time it seems to be the last thing of importance and yet it is the thing I miss the most.
We decided that for now the best thing was to move into a field by the house of the family friends and sleep in some tents.
We had no choice but even those whose house had not been destroyed were deciding to sleep outside. Everywhere you looked there was a tent city. No one wanted to sleep inside and I didn’t blame them. Ever since the initial quake, there was aftershocks about every two few minutes decreasing to about every 15 minutes. For most of the morning I felt a little sea sick due to the constant motion or sometimes the sensation of movement. As the days went on that became the worst part for most people. Very little real damagecame from any of the aftershocks but the stress and unsettling feel that they gave was enough to get to the calmest of people. Even sleeping in a tent in middle of the field you don’t get very rest full sleep because you are still woken up by the tremors.
The next day I went out with the men to go get water. Water is the most precious thing. You don’t really understand all the things water goes into and how fast you can go through it. You use water for cooking, cleaning, drinking, going to the bathroom and washing, and these are just your basic necessities. Over the next week we came up with a system of reusing water. For example we might wash dishes with some water then use it to go to the bathroom or use the same water do the dishes that we use to wash our hands. Its not the most sanitary but at least it make the water last a little longer. That first day that we went out looking for water we found a large water main that had broken that we could get the water out of. It was culinary water so it was clean but that soon dried up. We ended up for most the time going to the river and getting water there.
This wasn’t drinkable water so we had a big pot that we would boil and put some chlorine in to sanitize it so we could drink it. I must say, I never got sick so the water was clean but it didn’t always taste that great.
It was on that first day after the earthquake that one little miracle happened. Brother Alarcon had a little netbook that he used for work. Everyone had tried in vain to use cell phones or anything to try and get word or find out information but nothing was working. Carola was trying to use the netbook for probably the tenth time that day to try and get a signal. She hadn’t gotten anything any of the other times but I think due to desperation or maybe the inspiration she tried again and somehow, she got a signal. It was obvious that she was only one because she tried see if her family was on but no one was, but she then ran to me and told me that she had a signal. I was able to find Sasha, a friend of Michelle that was on gmail to tell her that I was fine and ok. She called Michelle and I was able to chat Michelle for about one minute before I lost the signal. It never came back again while we were in the area. I was comforted in knowing that my wife knew that I was ok.
On the second day after the earthquake we started to think about food. Something that is important to know about Chilean culture, which I think extends to most Latin culture, is that you only buy enough food for the day. They don’t stock up on food or have a kind of food storage. The other issue was most of the food that people did have was ruined in the quake. A group went to one of the grocery stores to see if they could buy food but then again you had a whole city that was in need of food. Our group got there just as word got round that there was a back door open to the supermarket.
I wasn’t there but from what I witnessed other times and from what they told me, it was complete chaos; people pushing and trampling to get at the food before others did. There were people taking things that didn’t have anything to do with survival like TVs, computers, beer, and appliances. There were also others that were destroying things. They would take food and then knock the rest on the floor, break jars, and smash boxes. It was if people had lost their minds.
While one group went to look for food, I went with Brother Alarcon to find gas for his truck. Much of what was described as happening at the grocery stores was also happening at the gas stations. The stores had been ransacked. The one thing that was saving them was the fact that because there was no electricity, no one could seem to be able to get any gas out of the big tanks underneath the gas station. When we got there there was a big crowd of people surrounding the tank. They had been able to pry the lid off, were taking a long PVC pipe with a little cup tied to the end, and were dipping it some ten feet down it the tank to get a cup full of gas, which they would then bring up and try to pour into any container that anyone had. The problem was that everyone was fighting to get the little cup of gas to be poured into their container and usually it ended up just getting spilled onto the ground. Everyone seemed so worked up that they couldn’t see how unproductive they were being and that no one was getting any gas. Brother Alarcon and I had a long piece of hose in the back of the truck by chance and then we found a hand crank pump in the mess of the service station that had been use to pump oil out of big oil drums. We used some wire that we found and fastened the hose to the pump and then took it over to the hole that everyone was fighting at. I manned the pump while Brother Alarcon made everyone get in a line. We had the power since we had the best solution to get the gas. I pumped gas into gas cans, milk cartons, water bottles, pots and just about anything else you could think of. I did this for about two hours until the hose was not long enough to reach. My guess is that we were just about to the bottom of the tank. We pulled out the pump and got back into the truck. As I looked back, I saw everyone surrounding the hole with the long PVC fighting over the little cup of gas while the hand pump that we had left for them was just laying to the side of them. It really blew my mind to see how, for lack of a better word, stupid people are when they are in their “survival mode”.
Those first three days after the earthquake, I was able to experience real anarchy. Those experiences of getting gas, looking for food, and just walking around
gave me a whole new look on what we are as humans and what we really all about. Without order or law we became a mess accomplishing very little. Selfishness and terror was the predominate catalyst for everyone’s actions. People became emboldened by the lack of law and took advantage of the situation by stealing, looting, and vandalizing.
Others became so self-absorbed in the need to survive that they had little or thought or care for their fellow man. These reactions to the earthquake were the dark side of humanity that is usually not out for such a public display. I wondered how people could act that way but then again, what were my own actions? Did I not steal hundreds of dollars of gas? Did I not eat food that had be stolen from supermarkets? Its hard to judge anyone in these types of situations because you really don’t know what you will and won’t do; morals and ideals change and become a little bit gray. I feel bad that I stole, but I if put in the same situation I would do it again every time.
My life for those first three days was made up mostly sitting in an alleyway by the field where we sleep boiling water. It gave me plenty of time to think and observe our upturned life. It was interesting to watch the neighbors and see what they did or how they spent their time. As the looting and vandalism got worse, people started getting worried about their homes because there was reports of gangs moving through streets looting houses and attacking people. Everyone started barricading their streets and setting up patrols to watch for looters. It was something very serious but at the same time I found comical because here you had full grown men acting like we did in Boy Scout. Everyone had their homemade weapon whether it be a sharpened stick, a board with a nail in it, or a broken bottle.
You had to wear a white handkerchief on you armband and know the password to get past the barricade. If you were to take out the actual danger, I would have thought we were playing one of our games up at Boy Scout camp.
By the third day, the Chilean armed force had arrived, set up a marshal law, and imposed a curfew. Once they had taken control, things started to settle down a little. It was then on the morning of the fourth day that we decided that we would go to a small town just north of Concepcion. We had no house to stay in Concepcion for, and the Alarcon family had family that lived there and they were anxious to see how they were doing. We all piled into the little pick up. It was actually quite a sight to see all of us in it. We had three in the back, along with everything that we owned, and five in the cab. It took us about forty minutes to get there. We were relieved to find that everyone was okay. The area had been hit hard by the tsunami and so we had been worried about what we would find there. It was incredible when we got there how calm everything and everyone was. You could see a lot of damage but not all of the barricades or looted buildings. I think the fact that it was a small town, you couldn’t get away with acting so wildish because everyone knew everyone as oppose to Concepcion were you could get away with the acting out under disguise of anonymity. We could see that everyone was working together to rebuild and get back to something like a normal life. As if to prove the point that working together is better then every man for himself, the electricity came on that night. We decided to stay there for a few days. It was a lot better atmosphere and we had a house that we could sleep in. They had a well that they could get water from so we had a clean source of water so I was able to take a bucket bath. It felt so good, I had been smelling very strongly of gas ever since my stint running the hand pump and it had been some five days since I had showered or bathed. I was able to sleep in a bed instead of on a blanket in a field with the rats and fleas. I remember laying down that night and thinking that the worst was over and that everything was getting better.
The next day they were rationing out gas and so people were heading up to Santiago. I decided that the best thing for me was to go to Santiago so that I could communicate with my wife and figure out what was the next step for me. I left at eight in the morning as soon as the curfew was lifted. Normally it takes about six hours to get to Santiago from Concepcion but took us two days or about 16 hours of driving. The trip had to be broken up because of the curfew, but luckily I knew some people from my mission in Curico, a town between Concepcion and Santiago, where I could stay the night. It was that night that I was able to chat with my wife for the first time since the brief miracle. I was able to let her know that I was all right and that everything was going to be fine. I found out that she had already booked me on the first flight out of Santiago, which I found kind of funny because I hadn’t talked to her about leaving or had told her that I was going to Santiago. It turns out though that the first flight out of Santiago wasn’t going to be for another week and a half because the airport had been damaged in the earthquake. I had some more contacts that I knew in Santiago so the next day I made the rest of the trip up to Santiago.
I spent that week and half just hanging out at the temple,
visiting some friends, and talking with my family back in the states on Skype. I enjoyed the time because it was a chance for me to adjust back into a normal life and synthesize some of the things that had happened to me before returning home. I had a lot of emotions to figure out and feelings to deal with. I felt bad leaving, it didn’t seem fair for me to escape it all by running away back to the United States, especially when there was such a big need for help. I felt bad leaving the Alarcon family, whom I had grown so close to before and especially during this experience. I wanted to help but I felt helpless.
I got dropped off at the airport and realized that there really wasn’t much of an airport left. They had a bunch of tents that had been set up to do all your check in and then they just loaded you up on a bus and took you out onto the tarmac and had some a set of stairs that you climbed to get into the plane just like they would do in the old days. I had a very uneventful trip back to the United States and was picked up by my wife, and my brothers and sisters who lived up in Utah.
As I finally write this story down some ten months later. I still wonder why this happened and truthfully I don’t know why, but it is a part of my life and something I still deal with on a regular basis in my thoughts, or sometimes just wondering if that shaking I feel is another earthquake or just in my head. I am glad that I have written about it because it has been a release and a chance to further formulate what my thoughts and feelings are about this experience. I have concluded that this difficult time was an experience and as John Heywood summarized,
“If you will call your troubles experiences, and remember that every experience develops some latent force within you, you will grow vigorous and happy, however adverse your circumstances may seem to be.”
