It also happened in the middle of the night, 3 am, but it was summer, thanks be to god. I was fifteen years old. We had visitors over and all of us were sleeping. I remember because I was sharing the top bunk bed with my little sister, and all of a sudden I woke up on the floor, having fallen from the bed, and the whole room was shaking. The only thing I could think of was to hide under the table, so that’s what we did. Four of us under a little table until my mom came in and said ‘we’re going outside.’ We lived in a tall apartment building surrounded by many more such buildings, so there were people everywhere, all in their pajamas with nothing else, scared and confused just like us. Finally the sun came up and we could see, and it was unbelievable…so much…damage. Really you can’t believe. Buildings in piles. Seven-stories of balconies stacked on top of one another like teacups in a cupboard. It was…horrifying. They took us to a camp and we lived in a tent, but the conditions were awful. The smells and sounds, and getting water was so difficult…long lines, no shade, all the time concrete dust. Somehow my mom secured us the materials and built us a small kind of hut, like the size of this room, not far from our apartment and we lived there many months. Our building didn’t collapse but it was damaged so we couldn’t go inside to get anything. Everyone was so afraid of the buildings, no one would go inside. Eventually the government came to knock it down and we lost everything. We ended up moving into a new house, in a different area, but we didn’t like to be inside much and luckily there was a park nearby where many of us from the neighborhood would hangout and even have our meals. Always there was a barbeque burning. After my father died there was still some property in the family that needed to be settled, but my father’s brother wouldn’t even speak to my mother, so because I was the oldest I had to go with him and witness the property with some officials. On our way to the store property, I remember we had to walk carefully because there was so much destruction and we had to climb, on our hands and knees, over this pile of rubble and on the other side was a big truck and in the back of the truck–you know that part for carrying rocks or whatever–it was just full of dead bodies. And I saw the men, their faces covered with rags to try and block the smell, throwing even more dead bodies into the truck. Yes. I saw that. We lived there for two years and then I moved out. The older I get now the more I can’t believe what my mother went through for all those years, raising the four of us with so little help. She is so strong.
Our friend Mehtap (in heading photo above) recently recounted memories of the 1999 ‘Izmit earthquake’ that happened very near Yalova, where she and her family were living at the time. Until last week, this was modern Turkiye’s deadliest quake. No doubt the recent disaster has sparked difficult memories for many.
As we’ve all been told countless times by now, from news anchors around the world, Turkiye lies in a very earthquake prone area so this most recent disaster shouldn’t come as a surprise. Quite the opposite in fact, many Turks are furious that the government didn’t do more to plan for the inevitable, and that now almost 25 years later, Turkish cities are plagued by the same inadequacies. What happened to all of the building codes and urban planning standards that were supposed to be implemented following the ‘99 quake to ensure that such devastation would be mitigated the next time around? Answers to these questions are still forthcoming, but the basic gist is that safety standards and stringent practices were largely ignored or ‘waived’ in favor of cheaper and faster development.
Click through the images below and decide for yourself…earthquake or war zone?
But it’s not just crooked city officials or thrifty building contractors that know how to take advantage. My friend goes on to spill a mishmash litany of appalling reports she’s gleaned from Turkish social media regarding the current quake disaster…
The media is just showing the successes, but the real stuff happening out there right now is way worse. There is no organization, there is no government control. So many digging trucks and heavy equipment are just sitting unused because no official wants to take responsibility, or because they can’t find any drivers. Sometimes even people are stealing the petrol from the government trucks. Also, many trucks are coming to the area with relief supplies, but at some places they are being stopped and told that they have to empty their cargo, right there, or even to abandon their trucks and leave. In some areas, people won’t leave their collapsed buildings because strangers are coming to steal things from the rubble. Some people are even making up stories about a flooding that’s going to happen and telling everyone to evacuate immediately, and they make everyone get in their cars, and then just down the road they stop all the cars and suck out all the petrol or take their belongings.
I can’t corroborate these reports, but sadly they don’t sound so implausible. How quickly the thin veil of civil authority can be replaced by cutthroat politik, especially under the cover of a ‘neutral’ natural disaster. Let us not forget this as we face impending detrimental climate change across the globe.
At any rate, we are lucky here in Kas, there are no collapsed buildings or lawless gangs, and none of our friends have reported family calamity. The urge to help is acute, but our effectiveness feels null. Sure, we donated some winter gear and a bit of coin to friends headed into the fray, but it’s barely a drop in the bucket. As keen as I am to offer boots on the ground support, my recent surgeries preclude me from getting more physically involved. Besides, as someone who has been an overseas volunteer in the past, I’m aware that well-meaning volunteers often present more of a logistical hassle than an actual help…especially when we arrive with hearty appetites and a lack of language skills 😉
Nevertheless, I can affirm that good work is being done. Kas town hall is inundated with volunteers, countless boxes of donations, a steady stream of hauling trucks, and rotating plates of baklava and tea to keep the whole operation spinning. A couple of our friends, in concert with others, built a playground for the children of 40 relocating families, and are offering free childcare and lessons in yoga, mediation, and painting. Another friend and her doctor husband loaded up their hatchback with donations (mostly medical supplies) and left for Hatay, one of the hardest hit areas. She reported that many businesses along the way offered them discounts or donations as well as free accommodation. Now in Hatay, she says that electricity and internet are scarce, the conditions tough, and that the tent city grows daily, but that their medical supplies/expertise is being put to good use.
Some of you have asked where to donate, but I don’t really have a good answer. If I’m being honest, I’d say whatever you want to give to this relief effort, give it instead to a cause closer to home. Of course there is need in Turkiye/Syria, but the donation trail from where you are to here is long and fraught with all sorts of overhead, loopholes, uncertainties, or even scams. The adage ‘think global act local’ is just as relevant for charity as it is for grocery shopping.
Even though supporting disaster relief feels so urgent and relevant, it’s the chronic and intractable social issues near home that really warrant our patient and steady support. I’m sure we can agree that Turks best know how to take care of their own, especially on their own soil. If you really want to help, use this opportunity to find a cause in your own backyard that you care about, and then commit to supporting it…not only will you be able to do more direct good this way, but you may even find yourself personally benefiting from the work.
Rest assured that we are safe and sound, but thanks for your thoughts and prayers.