‘I can only describe it as a war zone’: the rescuers navigating Venezuela’s post-quake hellscape
I can only describe it – Two powerful quakes struck Venezuela’s northern coast last week, leaving a trail of devastation across the region. Among the thousands of Venezuelans volunteering to aid the search, Israel Rivas, a 24-year-old mechanic and amateur photographer, arrived from San Félix, a city hundreds of miles inland, to join the efforts. His journey took him through the chaos to La Guaira, the coastal state hardest hit by the disaster, where he now supports international rescue teams with his fluency in English. “I couldn’t eat well. I couldn’t sleep well, knowing that my brothers and sisters from this country are dying, so I … came here and I’m doing the best I can,” Rivas said, standing in the ruins of Residencia La Gabarra, a 12-storey beachside apartment block that had collapsed into a tangled heap of concrete and bricks. At least three children were reported trapped beneath the wreckage.
Volunteers and international teams unite in the aftermath
Venezuelan volunteers, bolstered by international aid teams, have been working tirelessly in the wake of the earthquakes. The scale of the destruction was immediate and overwhelming. In La Guaira, buildings of 20 storeys or more lay in ruins, with entire structures pancaking into themselves or leaning precariously. Russ Gauden, the UK ISAR team’s national coordinator and leader in Venezuela, described the scene as “apocalyptic,” noting that it felt like something out of a disaster film. “It’s such an apocalyptic scene that you’d think you’d seen … a disaster film,” he said, highlighting the stark reality of the devastation.
Amid the rubble, Rivas found himself serving as an interpreter for the UK’s International Search and Rescue team (UK ISAR). His role was crucial as the rescuers navigated the debris-filled streets of Caraballeda, a resort town east of La Guaira’s capital. The teams used advanced tools, including life-scenting dogs and seismic listening devices, to detect any signs of survivors. One group gathered around the rubble of a swimming pool, seeking shade from the relentless Caribbean sun. “It’s pretty extreme. I can only describe it as a war zone in terms of collapse,” said Tristan Bowen, a firefighter from South Wales, as his team planned their next steps.
“I can only describe it as a war zone in terms of collapse.”
Rivas, who had saved up to purchase a new camera lens, brought a personal touch to the rescue mission. His presence was a reminder of the blend of hope and hardship in the situation. “It’s a hard job. It’s hard to see so many dead people around you. It’s hard to say we can’t recover the body because it is 10 floors down and we don’t have the equipment. It’s hard,” he said, reflecting on the emotional toll of the work. Despite the challenges, Rivas remained focused on the possibility of life. “But that’s one side of the coin, which is death. The other side of the coin is life. Coins are always flipping and we are always [hoping they land] on life,” he added, his words echoing the resilience of those involved.
The scale of the catastrophe
The earthquakes, which lasted 39 seconds, triggered a massive humanitarian crisis. The official death toll stands at 2,595, but with 400 bodies reportedly delivered to La Guaira’s morgue daily, the number is expected to climb. Over 12,400 people have been injured, and satellite data suggests more than 58,000 buildings are either damaged or destroyed. For many, the disaster has not only disrupted daily life but also deepened the uncertainty of Venezuela’s political landscape.
On Los Corales beach, where the rubble of La Gabarra still looms, Gauden’s team continued their search. The area was a mosaic of collapsed structures, with debris scattered across the sand. “Along the coastline what we’re seeing is buildings of 20 storeys plus [that have] collapsed – pancake collapses, total collapses, where it’s floor upon floor upon floor. Buildings that are leaning over,” Gauden explained. The sight of the devastation was both grim and galvanizing, pushing rescuers to work under extreme conditions.
“Along the coastline what we’re seeing is buildings of 20 storeys plus [that have] collapsed – pancake collapses, total collapses, where it’s floor upon floor upon floor. Buildings that are leaning over.”
Hours after the initial assessment, a breakthrough occurred. A 43-year-old security guard was pulled from the rubble of a nearby shopping centre’s basement, where he had been trapped for eight days. Bowen, who had been part of the UK team, noted that while the 72-hour “golden window” for finding survivors had closed, hope remained. “People have survived many days beyond that [golden] window, but … it depends entirely on where they are within that structure,” he said, underscoring the unpredictability of the situation.
Rivas, too, clung to optimism. He pointed out that the absence of a strong odor in the rubble suggested that the trapped individuals might still be alive. “It doesn’t smell bad which means there are no dead bodies in there, [which means there is] a higher chance for them to be alive,” he remarked, as Ecuadorian and British searchers crawled into narrow tunnels they had excavated. The combination of physical effort and emotional strain defined the rescue operations, with each moment bringing new challenges.
As the sun set over the ruins, the teams moved from one site to another, driven by the determination to find even one more survivor. The work was relentless, with rescuers navigating the hellscape not just with tools but with the hope that their efforts would make a difference. For Rivas, the experience was a mix of personal sacrifice and collective purpose. “This isn’t just about saving lives. It’s about proving that even in the darkest moments, there is still a chance for redemption,” he said, his voice steady despite the chaos around him.
The disaster has exposed the fragility of Venezuela’s infrastructure and the resilience of its people. While the official numbers tell a story of loss, the actions of volunteers like Rivas and the dedication of international teams offer a glimpse of recovery. As the search continues, the hellscape of La Guaira remains a testament to both the devastation and the unyielding spirit of those who refuse to let the rubble silence the cries for help.
