A Pleasant Aftershock-Articulo en The Heights

I grew up in Lima, Peru, where small tremors are commonplace; but what happened on the afternoon of August 15 was like nothing I had ever experienced. For two endless minutes, I stood with my mother and sister below the sturdiest doorframe in our house as the ground shook violently below us. Rattling windows drowned my mother's calming words. The sky was lit up by flashes of white light. Shattered glass littered my bedroom floor. I thought it was only a matter of time before the walls collapsed on top of us and we were trapped in our own home.

But the walls did not collapse. Just as suddenly as it had begun, the trembling ceased. "Was that really an earthquake?" I asked my mother. "Yes," she answered. As scared as I had been, this experience seemed way too tame in comparison to the horror stories of the quakes of the 1970s.

The real earthquake came over the next few days. Local headlines read: "7.9 ON THE RICHTER SCALE," "CHAOS AND PILLAGE IN THE SOUTH," "MORE THAN 540 DEAD," "1200 WOUNDED," "80% OF THE TOWN OF PISCO DESTROYED." The capital city of Lima barely endured a few scratches, but the southern province of Ica was bleeding to death. The southern portion of the Lima province and the Andean provinces of Junín and Huancavelica were not much better off. The saddest thing was that, as with most natural catastrophes, the poor were hit the hardest. Their humble homes crumbled even in areas where properly built structures remained intact.

The government, lacking any coherent emergency plan, tried at first to divert the public's attention by criticizing the temporary collapse of the phone lines and the response of human rights organizations to the crisis. Nonetheless, the government later depoliticized the issue and set up a group led by efficient businessmen to deal with the rebuilding process. This is probably the area's best chance for recovery.

But what really touched me happened in between the lines of the newspapers. Peru has a history of terrorism, economic instability, and political disasters - it is a country where people are accustomed to fending for themselves and distrusting their neighbors. Surprisingly, I have never seen so much solidarity.

On the day after the earthquake, I went to the national stadium to sort out donations and was greeted by mountains of clothing, food, medicine, and diapers. People of various ages and social classes were working tirelessly side by side, yet no one was telling them what to do. It was not necessary; they were working as one. I tried to donate blood and the nurses told me to wait a few weeks because they had too many donors. Everyone I called was at the supermarket buying food for the victims, or rummaging through their closets for blankets, or even down south building houses or helping out at health centers.

Even if this atmosphere of solidarity does not outlive the quake's headlines, it marks a shift in the Peruvian mindset. When I was standing below the doorframe and saw the sky lit up, I thought it might be the end of my city. In retrospect, I think it could be the beginning of something good.

Lucia Benavides is a junior in the College of Arts & Sciences.