Experiencing the Sichuan Earthquake

Eileen Guo recounts her experiences during the recent earthquake in China.

Eileen spent the night sleeping on the streets Displaced residents took refuge in Sechuan University Oxfam Hong Kong are working hard on rehabilitation and reconstruction work

I couldn’t stop trembling.

I don’t use the word in the usual romantic sense of “to tremble” as in “her lips trembled with emotion” or “trembling with anticipation, he said I do.” I use “to tremble” in the very real, scary sense of the word as in my entire body – my arms, my legs, my torso – were still trembling, days later, from the violent tremors that rocked Sichuan at 2.28 on May 12, 2008.

Everything was shaking: my desk, the pens and pencils, the bookshelves, the two mirror panes that I had just bought at Ikea, the fan, the heaps of clothing that I had strewn around the floor.
Searching for a reasonable explanation, I remembered the countless strange noises and vibrations that, due to open windows and the design of the building, I had felt in the past. Someone must have been remodeling, I thought. A little disturbance was normal, but an architectural seizure? That was ridiculous. I actually buzzed down to the doorman to complain. No one answered.

I wondered if I should go downstairs, but for all my wondering, I remained immobile. Maybe I thought that if I stayed still for long enough, that would make everything unreal.
Meanwhile, the already grey skies of Chengdu were even greyer than normal from the dust particles of the swaying buildings. Miniature tidal waves sent pool water crashing across the patio. And knots of people were running away from the towering flats. Then it finally hit me: I had to get out.

By the riverbank, which was deemed safer in case of falling debris, family members stood together in shaky huddles. Teenagers whooped and shrieked when they reunited with friends. Everyone with a cell phone was frantically dialing to make sure that loved ones were OK. I stood apart, staring across the river at a similar scene. That morning, my dad had boarded a plane to Dalian for a business trip.
'You sure you’ll be OK?' He had asked. I had brushed away his concern, but now I wished that he were there. I would have given anything to not be alone in those moments.
The rumors and the tension were getting to me. I remembered my still unfinished essay and so, as common sense kept everyone else outside, I returned to my empty apartment. Occasionally, the deep moans of the earth shook the walls – and my nerves, but I thought that the worst was over. I even updated my Facebook status: “Eileen is recovering from the earthquake” which shows how little I knew.

At 5.30, knocking on my door was followed by its being kicked open. It was Chen Ayi, a family friend. Through her hysterics, I could only understand fragments of conversation: 7.8, aftershocks, leave, dangerous, collapse, NOW!
And so I grabbed some illogical possessions (a camera and my journal among them) and we left the city. The roads leading out of Chengdu were packed with cars. Everyone that had the means to do so was fleeing. Suddenly, I was gripped by a cold terror.
We spent that night out of doors. So, it seemed, did the rest of Chengdu. Every open space in and around the city was full of people. Some actually had tents, but most made do with an assorted variety of blankets and sheets. My bed for the night? Some cardboard and a thick comforter. That’s the one good thing of how hard the beds are in China – it prepared me for sleeping on the streets.
Our night outdoors was accompanied by rain, mosquitoes, and more aftershocks. I counted fifteen that rudely brought me out of my hard-won sleep, though official reports counted over 500 in that night alone. But worse than the rain and the mosquitoes and the aftershocks was the uncertainty. We didn’t know how badly our homes were damaged, where half of our friends and family were, how long we would be homeless…

Looking back, I marvel at my stupidity – and my luck! Had we been closer to the epicenter, I am sure that I would not have survived. Not only did I not abandon the building at first opportunity, I did not even seek cover under a table or a bed. Instead, I stood around, stupefied. I actually changed out of my pajamas before leaving the house (though, in my defense, I did so in all haste). I took the time to fumble around for my keys and lock the door. I put on shoes.
But the thing is, though I too felt the earth suddenly heave beneath my feet, never for a moment did I imagine the worst. Being trapped under the rubble of my twenty-six-story apartment building, death, dismemberment – these were thoughts that never crossed my mind. And the irony is, it was probably my very stupidity and ignorance that saved me.