FIELD JOURNAL | KIT MIYAMOTO | VENEZUELA EARTHQUAKE RESPONSE
July 9, 9:15 a.m. | Caracas, Venezuela
It was a brutally hot day, the equatorial sun beating straight down on us. No wonder we felt cooked standing on the black tarmac of the shutdown Caracas International Airport, waiting for our U.S. military helicopter escort. It was supposed to meet us at 9:15 a.m. It was already 9:30.
A Venezuelan helicopter sat nearby. Daniel, our local partner, hopped out of our black SUV and walked straight to the captain. He asked, “Have you seen a U.S. helicopter anywhere?” If you think about it, the question was almost comical — asking a Venezuelan pilot if he’d seen an American military aircraft wandering around his own airport. Something that would have been unthinkable just a year earlier.
The captain said no, nothing had landed yet.
After another thirty minutes of waiting, a large helicopter finally approached. The wind pressure was incredible as it touched down. We climbed in and were airborne within minutes.
As we flew over the devastation, I saw a long line of pancaked high-rise buildings along what used to be a beautiful holiday destination — hotels and condominiums. Several ten-story buildings were twisted and tilted into agonizing shapes. But on the hills, I saw countless small houses — dense clusters of them — seemingly spared. The hard mountain soil had isolated much of the seismic motion. That was an important perspective. Still, I knew many working-class neighborhoods up there were now completely isolated.
We landed and rushed straight into one of these hillside communities. Walking through the neighborhood, we didn’t see much visible damage. Then an old woman came out, grabbed my arm, and begged us to look at her house. She pointed out cracks in her walls. Suddenly it became a cascade — half a dozen families surrounded us, asking for help.
A little girl who spoke perfect English appeared from nowhere. She said, “Everyone is so scared and there is not much help here. Please support us. See my grandmother’s house.” After inspecting their homes, it became clear that we had to change our entire plan. Recovery couldn’t focus only on the devastated zones. These less-damaged working-class neighborhoods had also lost jobs, income, and stability. Reconstruction had to generate employment for them too.
We gave them the good news — green-tagged houses — and said goodbye.
It was close to 8 p.m. now, and we were waiting at the presidential residence. We had been summoned to meet the President.
Walking into the meeting, the President and her cabinet were already seated in a large historic conference room. We described our neighborhood recovery plan — for both the completely devastated zones and the less-damaged working-class communities. She asked sharp, thoughtful questions and thanked us for coming to support the Venezuelan people.
She shook my hand warmly, holding my gaze with quiet intensity.
