Three Days on the Wall

My three Indian coworkers, young male architects no more than 23 years of age each, and I walked to the corner shop. Ten minutes later and with both hands filled with bread, milk, and a couple kilos of potatoes, tomatoes, and carrots, I headed back to my flat with my roommate Nikhil, whom I affectionately call "ek number" (number 1) short for "ek number padosi" (number 1 neighbor) . As I broke off from the rest of the group, Pratik, whom I call "najik-na" (close) short for "najik-na padosi" (close neighbor), beckoned for me to go the other way, towards his house. I protested, I had two full hands and I had to drop the stuff off. Just for a few moments, he said, sit here with me on this wall. I relented. The four of us plopped down on the dusty brick wall but a few feet high, on the bridge over the dry riverbed. The river hadn't run there for years. As I set the bags down, Pratik began to speak. I once spent 3 days on this wall, he said.

On January 26, 2001, a devastating 7.9 magnitude earthquake struck the Kutch region of Western Gujarat, with the epicentre 20 km from Bhuj. To get an idea of the extent of the death and destruction, here is an excerpt from the Wikipedia article on the earthquake:

Because of its size and location, the quake was very destructive in terms of lives lost and damage to property. As many as 26,000 people were reported dead, and 167,000 injured. All the deaths occurred in India's western state of Gujarat, near the Pakistan border. Bhuj, situated only 20 kilometres (14 miles) from the epicentre, was the most devastated town. Overall, over a million structures were damaged or destroyed, including many historic buildings and tourist attractions.

The quake destroyed around 90% of the homes in Bhuj, eight schools, and flattened two hospitals. It partly destroyed the historic Swaminarayan temple in the city. Considerable damage also occurred in Bhachau. It also destroyed 4 km of road in Bhuj. In Ahmedabad, Gujarat's commercial capital and a city of 4.6 million population, as many as 50 multi storied buildings collapsed and several hundred people were killed. Total property damage was estimated at $5.5 billion and rising. The quake destroyed 75% of Kutch District, and over 80% of usable food and water supplies. This left Bhuj devastated.

Of all my coworkers and friends in Bhuj, Pratik has lived here the longest, indeed his whole life he has lived in the house just a 2 minute walk from my flat. And on January 26, 2001 at the age of 14, he was living there. His house completely demolished, he told me he spent the 3 days following the quake just sitting on that same wall we were sitting on. Hours and hours, throughout the day, just hanging out on the wall. Occasionally he would walk the hundred feet or so back to his house to help with clean up and to fish out personal objects from the rubble. After three days, his family flew to Mumbai where they moved in with his relatives for the following six months. His father would return periodically to Bhuj to oversee the reconstruction of the house.

I too lived through an earthquake, I impulsively related to him. In 1994, the Northridge quake. I was 9. It was a 6.7. It was a big deal. I think even, maybe, 40 or 50 people died or something, I said. The Wikipedia article for this quake starts like this:

The Northridge earthquake occurred on January 17, 1994 at 4:31 AM Pacific Standard Time in Reseda, a neighborhood in the city of Los Angeles, California, lasting for about 20 seconds.The earthquake had a "strong" moment magnitude of 6.7, but the ground acceleration was one of the highest ever instrumentally recorded in an urban area in North America. Seventy-two deaths were attributed to the earthquake, with over 9,000 injured. In addition, the earthquake caused an estimated $20 billion in damage, making it one of the costliest natural disasters in U.S. history.

The hype I had had from this rare, shared experience was short lived as I realized there were probably some major differences between his quake and mine. If I had known the details from the Wiki articles, perhaps I could have related that we had lived more or less the same distance from the epicenter, or that the quakes took place about one week apart, seven years from each other. But, the rest would have been far off. His death toll was almost 360 times greater than mine, the injuries about 17 times more. Was 80% of LA destroyed? I think not. Were over 1 million structures destroyed in LA? Maybe a few dozen houses, and a building or two. And was I left to stand outside my destroyed home for days after, picking up the pieces? The only image of destruction that comes back to me from that day 15 years ago was our backyard brick wall that had collapsed onto a massive 5-foot tall plant known as the "ball-eating bush". For years prior that bush had gorged itself on tennis balls hit awry, foul-tipped baseballs, and other badminton birdies, footballs, and soccer balls that had taken unfortunate, wrong turns. I was actually happy the bush was dead. But Pratik's quake was no cause for any celebration.

Since then, Bhuj has incredibly rebuilt itself. Tons of money was poured into reconstruction and redevelopment. "New Bhuj" boasts almost track-style housing, and "VIP" sections with paved roads and sturdy looking buildings. Old Bhuj is still around too; it's a a colorful, windy mess of narrow crumbling old brick, packed with stalls selling all kinds of wares, and houses too in the mix, complete with women washing clothes and making puja in every window you pass by. To wander and get lost in that maze and arrive suddenly upon a little shack, overflowing with hand-spun Kutchi shawls, manned by a weathered, leathery-faced Kutchi man with one shiny white tooth, is a wonderful experience to have. I'm fortunate to have experienced it.

My NGO grew out of the Kutch earthquake. It was established 2 years later in order to teach locals about sustainable and innovative building technologies which they might use in eco-friendly, disaster-proof fashions. It teaches them to use the local resources found abundantly - mud and bamboo especially - to build their own structurally sound houses. While building codes in LA existed years before the quake and helped to limit the damage, Bhuj had nothing of the sort. Today, my NGO works to correct this problem. And not just in Bhuj itself, but in the Kutchi desert dozens of kilometers outside. We build huts and bungas made of adobe and mud brick, reinforced with some cement and bamboo skeletons. And these construction practies and techniques are all done in a sustainable way: they are taught to the local artisans, who then in turn build their own houses and villages, maintain them over time, and teach the same to their family members and others in the community.

Of course, with no architectural background, I don't actually do this work. But I support my bosses and coworkers who do. I get to travel to the sites, interact with the people, and watch it get done. From our offices in Bhuj, I manage the budgets and contracts of the projects, help record timesheets, organize surveys on waste management, water usage, household work, and display their results in visually meaningful ways. Just last week, I was fortunate to lead a workshop about our technologies for 80 5th graders on a field trip from Mumbai. As an unpaid volunteer two and a half years out of undergrad, I do what I can with my limited knowledge and ever-emerging skill set.

So, the next time you see another "earthquake in Pakistan" on the 10pm local news, and the countless dead, injured, and displaced, I hope that for my readers it is more than just afterthoughts that accompany the aftershocks.