CARACAS – The smell of death lingers in the sweltering heat along Venezuela’s Caribbean coast, where displaced families sleep on bunk beds in converted school classrooms and newly dug graves line a nearby cemetery.
Three weeks after twin earthquakes rocked the densely populated state of La Guaira, the frantic search for survivors has given way to a grim reality: burying the dead, caring for thousands left homeless and rebuilding shattered communities.
At La Esperanza cemetery, rows of freshly painted white crosses stretch across a dusty hillside beneath the blazing sun. Inside every buried coffin, sealed within a body bag, lies one of more than 300 quake victims whose identity remains unknown.
The authorities say DNA samples have been collected from every body, with matching identification numbers assigned to each grave, coffin and body bag, in the hope families will eventually be able to reclaim their loved ones. The official death toll now exceeds 4,800.
Grieving survivors who spent days returning to the ruins of their homes – unwilling to give up on missing relatives or relinquish their few remaining belongings – are beginning to settle into temporary shelters set up by the government in schools and parks.
Some businesses like pharmacies and grocery stores have reopened, while the authorities race to resume operations at Venezuela’s damaged international airport in Maiquetía.
Most Venezuelans have stopped searching, and begun mourning.
The transition is laid bare in one of numerous WhatsApp groups created to help locate the missing.
In the hours after the June 24 catastrophe, desperate relatives shared names, photographs and locations in a rush of chat messages. Many of these groups have now dwindled into near silence.
Not everyone has been able to move on.
For 24-year-old Yerlis Bracamonte, every day still revolves around finding her cousin, Fabiana Ramírez, beneath the collapsed remains of a social housing complex in Caraballeda. Like dozens of other relatives, she is appealing for donations to rent heavy equipment so families can dig through the rubble themselves.
That is how she found the lifeless bodies of two other cousins nine days after the quakes.
“All the equipment we had came through donations, either from people abroad who wanted to help or from whatever we had at home,” Bracamonte said.
“Other than that, we received no help from the government,” she added, echoing a broad sense of frustration and anger over the official response.
Some international urban search-and-rescue teams from Colombia, the US and Europe have begun withdrawing as their missions conclude.
Unable to let go, relatives still plead with the remaining rescue workers to search specific buildings. But the workers say they operate under a government-run unified command that assigns each team to designated sites each day.
Most rescues were carried out by survivors, relatives and local residents before international assistance arrived, according to a report by Transparencia Venezuela, the local chapter of anti-corruption organization Transparency International.
Of the 19,861 registered survivors in La Guaira, most escaped through self-evacuation or were rescued by local residents, while organised teams rescued 6,461 people, the report said.
About 83 per cent of those organised rescues took place within the first 48 hours after the quakes, before most international aid had reached the affected areas.
Meanwhile, the US-supported government is shifting its attention toward reconstruction.
The authorities are identifying vacant land across La Guaira to build what officials call “anti-seismic cities” for displaced families, while preparing to hand over the first 200 replacement apartments in the capital Caracas this week.
High temperatures, overcrowded shelters and damaged water infrastructure have heightened concerns about diarrhoeal diseases, respiratory infections and mosquito-borne illnesses like dengue, humanitarian groups say.
Aid organisations are now focused on preventing a second humanitarian emergency by restoring health care services, expanding access to clean drinking water and reducing the risk of disease outbreaks.
More than US$781 million (S$1 billion) in aid had been pledged by 133 donors as of July 12, including major commitments from the US, the International Monetary Fund, the World Food Programme, the Pan American Health Organization and the UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs, or OCHA, according to Transparencia Venezuela.
Most of the funding, however, had been announced rather than verified as delivered, with none of the monetary commitments confirmed as disbursed in OCHA’s Financial Tracking Service as of the cutoff date, the report said.
A UN assessment estimated US$6.7 billion in direct physical damage from the quakes, and warned that the overall economic impact, including indirect losses, could prove to be up to three times greater.
Volunteers prepare food at a makeshift shelter inside a school in the Artigas neighbourhood of Caracas, Venezuela. PHOTO: REUTERS
Humanitarian groups say the hardest phase may still lie ahead.
“Unfortunately, the pattern is that once search-and-rescue operations end and media coverage fades, much of the financial support humanitarian organisations need to help people rebuild their lives also disappears,” said Rafael Velásquez García, the International Rescue Committee’s emergency response team leader.
“People may have been rescued from collapsed buildings,” he said. “But they’ll still need assistance for the next two to three months, along with services that help restore their livelihoods.” BLOOMBERG