Louisa Lim

Reporter's Night on Park Bench

Chengdu Tent Stampede

Rumors of further seismic acivity sent Chengdu citizens to the streets to sleep.. Photo by Louisa Lim, NPR hide caption

itoggle caption Photo by Louisa Lim, NPR

When I set out to interview panicky people sleeping outside, little did I imagine that I myself would become one of them. In fact, I'd confidently predicted that I'd be back at the hotel within an hour. But that was not how things turned out. I'd taken a taxi to a place where many people were still sleeping outside in tents and cars, a week after the shock. When I first arrived, it seemed this constituted only a tiny minority of people, generally the elderly or the very nervous. But as I was interviewing, suddenly a massive influx of people came running to the square, quilts and tents under their arms, jostling to commandeer a space of their own. In the space of about five minutes, the roads were suddenly packed with cars, all heading in the same direction: out of the city.

EARTHQUAKE WARNING

Everybody was talking about the emergency broadcasts warning that there was a large possibility of an aftershock measuring six or seven. Radio and television stations were telling people to take preventative measures. Most people seemed to understand this to mean: Flee your houses, flee the city, just get out!

MOTHER OF ALL TRAFFIC JAMS

At that point, I decided to head back into the city to catch up with the rest of the team at our hotel. We knew it was built to withstand quakes of 8, and we'd seen US army personnel staying there, so we felt it was one of the safer places in the city. But within minutes, my taxi driver and I had run into the mother of all traffic jams. We sat at a major intersection for half an hour without moving.

Eventually it became clear we'd have to turn around and head out of the city again. That was when I saw cars screeching out of the city, flooding the highways, veering across the lanes, drivers' fists on horns, in their hurry to leave. There was a herd instinct at work, and the panic was catching. Just an hour earlier, my driver had been mocking those sleeping on the streets as wimps. Now he was on the phone to his wife and child, arranging where to pick them up. I was feeling pretty panicky too, and the fact that the mobile network was down didn't help. When I realized we couldn't get back into the city, my immediate reaction was relief that I'd be far from tall buildings, rather than worry about spending the night outside.

And so I found my way back to the place where I'd been interviewing the street sleepers — but this time I was one of them. Even finding a place to sleep proved difficult. The road was jam-packed full of cars crammed with people. The ground was a sea of families sardined onto plastic sheets. People were even draped over the exercise equipment. And I was easily the worst-prepared. An elderly couple whom I'd been interviewing earlier waved me over to share their park bench. They didn't seem at all surprised to see me back. Then the temperature plummeted. I was only wearing a short-sleeved cotton shirt, and I began to sneeze. The elderly woman tapped my shoulder, "Take my blanket," she said. "I have another." It was cold, and I accepted gratefully. Halfway through the night I woke up and saw that she and her husband were fast asleep, huddled together under their only remaining quilt.

As I lay outside I realized how much of a bubble we've been living in at our reinforced hotel. The reality for most Chengdu residents is that every time they leave home, they're still not entirely sure that they'll be able to return. Every night they weigh up the relative safety of their buildings and the speed of their legs. And everybody here is traumatized to a certain extent. But people are finding comfort in community. When the kind couple who'd lent me the blanket left, another elderly neighbor pressed his red plastic raincape on me. I said I'd be fine. He told me what a hard time we journalists were having and that I mustn't get sick. I told him I didn't need his cape. He shoved it at me. I shoved it back. Then we had a comic tussle as he attempted to tug the raincape over my head, while I tried to pull it off. Intense negotiations ensued over the ownership of the raincape. Raising the stakes, he threatened to throw it in the bin if I didn't take it away with me.

I tried to unsuccessfully to smuggle it into his wife's bag. Finally we managed to hammer out a compromise whereby I wore it until my taxi came back to pick me, while he sat by my side to make sure that I kept my word. Finally my taxi turned up, and my new friend and I swapped mobile numbers, as I passed back his raingear. "See you tonight!" He shouted cheerily as I left. "And this time don't forget your quilt and plastic sheeting!" I'm almost tempted to take him up on it.

Comments

 

Please keep your community civil. All comments must follow the NPR.org Community rules and terms of use, and will be moderated prior to posting. NPR reserves the right to use the comments we receive, in whole or in part, and to use the commenter's name and location, in any medium. See also the Terms of Use, Privacy Policy and Community FAQ.

It's amazing to hear people who have lost almost everything that even in the aftermath of such a tragedy, people are still willing to give the shirts off their backs to help.

Sent by Josh | 4:23 AM | 5-20-2008

When will this stop? I'm so worried about my grandparents. It's cold sleeping outside. I've gone back school where is far away from Sichuan. I'm the lucky one who has escaped from all these aftershocks' tortures. Could there be some better ways to prevent from aftershocks? We are a large group of people living in panic. There must be a better way. Could some wise man here can tell me?

Sent by Song Qiuying | 4:35 AM | 5-20-2008

Thank you Louisa and all the others working on this series. Since I am due in a few days, I have stopped reading most articles and tried to avoid all pictures related to the earthquake -- I simply couldn't control my emotions. But every time I came to NPR's website, I have to read this series. Thank you all for working hard and bringing it to us. Stay safe and take good care!

Sent by Xin L. | 8:41 AM | 5-20-2008

Please take care and we will pray for you and the people suffering in Sichuan from the other side of the world.

Sent by Connie | 8:43 AM | 5-20-2008

Louisa, thank you for sharing your 1st hand story with us. It is so real. Please take good care!

Sent by LZ | 8:56 AM | 5-20-2008

I'm so sorry that things happenning worse since earthquake destroy all the building and my heart feel broke because I care about people but remember that Jesus is coming soon and take us to heaven. That's amazing thing we should be ready for Jesus coming soon and there will not be sins, death, suffering for things will passed away. Remember to pray always and cease praying when you are in siuations. God blessing you and stay safe and peace!

Sent by Mirela Marshall | 12:30 PM | 5-20-2008

Thank you so much for reporting at such personal level, not just the statistics we have been hearing and looking at all week long. I am originally from Chengdu, and I know how great and warm the people are there. Thank you for showing that to the rest of the world!

Sent by HL | 1:11 PM | 5-20-2008

Such a nice little, yet moving story. Many thanks to share it.

Sent by AC | 4:22 PM | 5-20-2008

Nicely written story that put me right there. Thanks. Stay safe

Sent by Alicia Shepard, NPR | 4:33 PM | 5-20-2008

Our children and grandson are living in Chengdu. It is such a large city and the disaster is huge. Thank you for the personal perspective that share the kindness and concern among strangers. We continually search for news updates and appreciate that you are there and are our eyes and ears allowing us to believe that it will be okay. Gratefully, cs

Sent by c. sears | 8:27 PM | 5-20-2008

Louisa, you have described so well how easy it was to get caught up in the hysteria on Monday and Tuesday here in Chengdu. Knowing full well that another quake would be unlikely did not seem to quell the rising unease. The sights of the tent cities, the smell of smoke in the air, the sound of warnings over loudspeakers and radio, the pounding on the doors to evacuate and the rumbling of the aftershocks sent panic sensors into overdrive. As someone who was was relatively unaffected by the original quake, the events of the last couple of days have certainly taken their toll.
The Chinese government is in a lose-lose situation here, I know, but geez what a couple of crazy days!
Now I'm looking for the exit door wherever I go......

Sent by maryaj | 8:28 PM | 5-20-2008

Great story! Thank you for reporting from the diaster area to reflect people's life at such personal level.

Sent by Liza Russell | 7:31 PM | 5-21-2008

I am an American English teacher living in Xi'an, China. I also belong to the TEFL Yahoo Group and several of my fellow expats are wondering about our colleagues in Sichuan Province. Is there a way in which we can find out if foreign teachers have been accounted for?

Sent by Jada | 10:48 PM | 5-21-2008

@Jada
Communications have been fine for the most part during the last couple weeks. You should be able to contact them.

Sent by Rick | 4:48 AM | 5-22-2008

About