Where is Turkey now?
It is currently 3 months since the first earthquake surfaced and swallowed all that was in its path. The after-fold of destruction remains immense and overwhelming. I found myself between the hills of Antakya, Hatay, with not much expectations except that of to help. I believe most first response teams that go to disaster stricken areas have this idea of going from a position of helping. Which is absolutely subconsciously the idea I carried while heading to Hatay. However I was the one that was helped. Yes giving resources, food, shoes, underwear, shampoo, etc. all of these are necessities. Although in return we are given the opportunity to receive even more than we can give. Instead of entering from mindset of healer, I found myself sitting at the feet of the Turks in awe of their strength. Positioning myself from ‘healer’ to learner. To witness the turks carry such bravery and joy amongst the face of literal death is such a priceless gift that I have received. As the days turned to weeks, the way the Turks have carried themselves during this time is nothing short of heroic.
We, handful of volunteers, stay in a 1 story building on army cots. The first days I was there we had to sleep outside in about 32 degree weather because earthquakes where still happening. I was stuffed in a sleeping bag and wrapped as tight as I could be in blankets. Since working in Hatay I have experienced 6 earthquakes. One 6.4 magnitude hit while I was walking with my children and the best way I could describe it is as if I was in a snow globe and someone began shaking it. Simultaneously you could hear the surrounding buildings around us falling. I wasn’t scared surprisingly, but maybe it’s just because I didn’t have time to be scared, immediately all the kids (about 15 of them) jumped on me. It was like they were all drowning and I was the only life vest in the middle of the ocean. The trauma response they all had was absolutely heart breaking. I felt little nails dig into my arms, my legs, my back, my hair, it was truly heart breaking. All while they began screaming and it’s just because they have already survived so much that there is now so much trauma attached to them from their survival. I kept repeating “her şey iyi her şey iyi her şey iyi” which translates to everything is okay. After the earthquake stopped they started reaching for phones to call their mom. One boy who is about 12 that was with me just kept crying “Annem” which means ‘my mom’ in Turkish. He then called his mother and to hear the panic in both their voices once the phone line connected to make sure that both their lives weren’t lost was just truly an emotion I cannot describe. Another earthquake was when I was asleep. I was awoken shaking violently and my body reacted faster than my mind did. I again wasn’t scared, but my body, by the first vibration, immediately jumped me out of my army cot before I could even realize what was happening. Pretty soon by the 3rd and 4th and 5th hit it became just another day.
A typical day in a disaster zone fluctuates quite often. While there is an organized schedule we function by, everyday looks different. Slowly there has been a progression in restructuring. Although whilst new camps are being built; beside the housing lies the remembrance of what once was now turned to dust and rubble next to it. When the earthquake first happened the weather was close to freezing but now as the sun rises so does the heat. Even though the destruction that still remains as a constant reminder of what took place, there’s so much beauty found in the culture that will never cease. Entering tents where there is no place to sit, no electricity, no water and minimal resources I am greeted with genuine Turkish hospitality. To serve people who constantly serve others leaves me with no words which express the gratitude I have received.
