Rescue & Aid

'Yes, we still have hope' -- survivor

By Zhang Jin (China Daily)
Updated: 2010-04-20 07:36

XINING -- Making nearly 150 phone calls a day and traveling here and there in the city, to be frank, makes me weary. But I know that's what I came here for - to report everything about the quake.

To refresh myself for that mission, I try to sleep at intervals between interviews. I swallow more rhodiola rosea capsules -- the magic herbal medicine that is supposed to reduce high-altitude fatigue for a person like me, who grew up on the plains.

But neither the doze nor the dose helps.

An effective way to cheer me up is to spend some time at the Hospital Affiliated to Qinghai University in Xining, where I enjoy chats with many quake survivors.

Most of them are Tibetans. They don't speak my language and I don't speak theirs.

But the Tower of Babel is not a barrier at all. When interpreters are not there, we stop talking and simply look at each other, smiling.

To describe that experience, we can use the Chinese proverb: "You say it best when you say nothing at all." Or let's refashion the famous line of the movie Avatar -- "I see you."

I usually go to the hospital at 4 pm, because that is the time when Tsering Jangkyi - probably the youngest survivor Xining has received - usually wakes up.

The first encounter between me and the 10-month-old girl was at the hospital's intensive care unit last Friday, when the infant, wearing an oxygen mask, naughtily kicked the quilt off her body.

Jangkyi's face was torn during the quake. The blue bruise on her eyelid, even after surgery, told of the brutality of the catastrophe.

But in another sense, Jangkyi is lucky. She won't remember the calamity because she is so young. Adults have to endure greater trauma right now.

When I first met them last Friday, most of them were stone-faced, glassy-eyed and reluctant to talk, although they gave me a courtesy smile when I left.

Things turned better with each passing day.

During my visit to the hospital on Sunday, the last one before my trip to Yushu to reinforce my colleagues, these patients were willing to tell me how they were buried, pulled out and rushed to the hospital.

I asked one man who was taking care of his unconscious wife what his plan was.

He said he would return to Yushu and rebuild his home after his wife recovered. "You have to look forward," he said.

I told him a story about always having hope. The man listened, his head drooping.

After hearing the story, he was lost in thought.

Then, slowly, he raised his head, nodded, and said: "Yes, we still have hope."

That's the message for all: Never say die.