1985 - 2017

Thirty two years later and here we are again, people underneath rubbles, sirens and chaos around the city. I was 12 back then, and probably my age didn't allow me to feel so threatened by the unmistakable force of an earthquake? I remember my father rented a water pipe and we distributed water around affected zones in the city.

I felt so vulnerable this time.

The aftermath is always nice in some cases. People hug each other, like they have never seen each other in years. In other cases, people grab their guns and steal from people in their cars as they try to get home to see their loved ones. In some irreversible ones, the lives people lead will never be the same after tragic events unravel.

For the first time in my life, I felt I was going to be a casualty as the apartment fiercely shook itself. Like a flea hanging from a dog's hair, I think I even prayed out loud. 

My brother is a surgeon, doctors who were on surgery like him, kept going, while everyone else evacuated the hospital. He has 3 kids and a beautiful wife. His hands firm, as the earth cracked open. He will always be my personal hero.

As usual, from these events, you understand none of your plans ever matter. That nothing is really that relevant and that you're always in charge of your decisions, whether they are (unknowingly) your last ones or not. Should you run down that flight of stairs?

Rebuilding tomorrow. Today is too chaotic to reach these places, cars await in never-ending lines of traffic. Just being with loved ones tonight is what really moves you forward in trusting this expanding universe.