The sight of bloodied children on stretchers, news of so many dead, photos of utter devastation, images of thick dust and rubble now the only remains of centuries old architecture – have been haunting my days and nights.
The scenes of desperation as small teams of people tear through bricks and old mortar with their bare hands in the hope of recovering anyone buried, tore straight through my heart.
In one moment, so many people’s lives devastated, and not just those in the city, but mountain folk in remote places who live simply, as they have done for centuries.
The thought too of all those hopeful travelers trekking to distant spots on Mount Everest or the Annapurna Sanctuary (it’s peak trekking season) brought tears to my eyes. Those places, with names which drip off my tongue with which we were once so familiar because we lived in Nepal for nearly two years when our son was just 5 weeks old.
In fact for one year in the early nineties we lived near the epicenter of that first fatal quake which hit 7.8 magnitude, in a small camp where my husband was engaged in a road project building a highway from Kathmandu to Pokhara.
Kathmandu, Durbar Square … almost destroyed. I remember a beautiful, culturally important Medieval place of temples, and teetering houses which once peppered the lanes and alleyways around it. Many now turned to dust.
What of the people? Thousands dead so far, so many more injured. Hospitals which will not be able to cope. I think back to the crush of people and bicycles back in 1990, the honking, tooting and mad dash – nothing I’m sure to what it is today 25 years later.
All those people. Such a beautiful country.
I’m donating to World Vision’s Nepal Earthquake fund today. I believe time is of the essence. If you’d like to help in whatever way you can too, here’s a link to the donate page : World Vision Donate