A block called Vaibhai Laxmi had collapsed like a pack of cards. When he felt the ground beginning to shake, he grabbed the children in his arms and the family fled. Now living in a tent camp at an airfield, they are the only survivors from the ground floor. I can still taste the dust and smell of Bhuj. Walking through the town, one breathes a fine dust and the odor of death.
People load carts with the few possessions they have been able to salvage from their wrecked homes.
Life goes on, though not as before. Many temporary camps have sprung up around the town, where local organizations are providing food and water. Women try to wash the dust from their clothes in the town s lake. At the government s offices, the United Nations has established a coordination center in a straw-roofed hut equipped with a satellite phone. SEWA has also set up a base here.