Quake, Day 2

I finally got to sleep last night after being kept up by a series of aftershocks, but I woke up with a start this morning, a racing heart and a train of thought that went something like this: "Oh! What? Oh. No. It really happened." It's somehow the same feeling I had after September 11 where I just kept wishing we could turn back time and un-do it. Except who can you blame here? There is no one to blame.

We had the daunting task of getting to the farm this morning, so we started very early. It's the end of February, obviously, which means it's still summer here, but a very unusual dense fog had rolled in and covered the entire central valley. The visibility was no more than 1/4 mile in most spots and it even rained a bit (this is seriously unheard of here in February). So because of that we could not see the extent of damage in much of the city.

About a half-hour outside the city we encountered a closure in the highway and we had to take side roads for several dozen kms until we could get back onto the highway. We determined that the bridge was out over one of the rivers (possibly the Maipo?). Further along we found a large crack in the pavement and many rock slides onto the road. Other than the one diversion, though, we got to the farm without too much trouble. Several bridges seemed to have lifted in the quake, but were intact, and the dirt road going to the house had large cracks in it and was covered in rocks.

Coming up to the house, things didn't look too bad, but as soon as we got out of the car we were met by several farm employees who ushered us up to the house quickly. It was, in short, devastating. The corner of the house has a large hole in it. Pieces of the chimney have come down. The interior walls broke and started to crumble from the top. All of the closets collapsed. Somehow the mirror on my dresser was ok and the wine glasses survived. Nature is very strange.

Right now I have only been able to upload 3 pictures because our internet is still down. They can be found on Facebook.

I never liked the house at the farm but never in my WILDEST dreams did I think I would see its destruction, and certainly not now. On a logical level I am very worried because now we have nowhere to stay at the farm which makes thing extremely complicated. On an emotional level, I am crushed by all of the work I had put into making that house feel more like home for us, and by the loss of such an iconic family memory for Nick and his family. I imagined us showing that house to our children, to our family, to our friends and explaining how it came about and showing the treasures in it like antique books, awards for the sheep and photographs. I don't know what will happen to the house itself but it will be condemned and eventually it will probably have to be destroyed.

We spent the morning salvaging what we could from the house. Because there were so many plates in the first place, many survived, along with artwork, linens, even unopened food. The furniture is still in the house because we have nowhere else to put it (including our brand new king-sized bed!!! I am so mad about that. It's ok, but we have nowhere to take it). Aftershocks are still hitting every few minutes and several were on the larger side, so in the midst of trying to save things, suddenly the earth would rumble and one or more people would yell "Out! out! out!" and we'd scramble into the front. No injuries, thankfully, although I keep twisting my knee trying to move too quickly.

With no house, water, electricity or food, we were left with only the option of going back to Santiago. It was an exhausting drive, but this time the highway was open through to the city. We discovered that the bridge that was apparently out was not seriously damaged but the roadway was rippled. We saw a few houses along the road that had collapsed, and many people camping outside.

I came home and made eggs and potatoes because that's all I have in the house and we hadn't eaten all day. The problem now is that the city seems to be running out of food. There are hardly any grocery stores open and those that are are out of most things. Luckily we have enough food to sustain us for several days, but it won't be pretty (potatoes, rice, oatmeal... and the pounds and pounds of celery and carrots I have). Nick's grandma's house has a freezer full of lamb, too, thankfully. We will be ok.

Now I am thinking about going to bed but it's so hard. It sounds childish but I am in some way afraid of the dark and my bedroom now. I only want to be out in the living room with the DVR playing something on the television to distract me. I dread waking up tomorrow again having forgotten for a split second that this happened and then having the realization that it really did...

Importantly, I really want to thank you all SO MUCH for your good wishes and thoughts and prayers. We really need them now. Our task in coming down here to take over the farm was daunting when we began but we have now taken many many steps backwards. My light at the end of the tunnel is the thought that we will be in the US in July and can see you all again. We miss everyone intensely right now. Please stay in touch with us.