Memories of an Earthquake

Watching the horrific scenes that have emerged from Haiti has triggered flashbacks to the time I spent in Pakistan following the disastrous earthquake there in 2005. I keep thinking that had I stayed in Miami a few more days, I probably would have gone over to Haiti to cover it. But in a way I'm glad that I was able to avoid making that decision, because going to the scene of a devastating earthquake is one of the hardest things a journalist can do. While I'm not sure how much my reporting actually led to tangible results for the victims of the Kashmir quake, it strangely did turn into a positive experience for me. No, I'm not into death and destruction. Quite the opposite. I am so affected by it, that I can't even gather the strength to film it sometimes. Yet, while journalists get to pop in, document the misery, and then return to their comfortable lives, these people are living in the midst of a real-life horror film. People lost their limbs, homes, and entire families in one quick rumble of the earth. Yet they press on and, somehow, smile. I didn't know this at the time, but now looking back through the prism of my memory, I think that it was one of the most uplifting spiritual experiences I've ever had. It also shaped how I view human nature. When a stranger helps a stranger for absolutely no reward, it is a living proof that mankind is not essentially evil. I wish the people of Haiti strength and resilience in the face of this horrific tragedy.

The long-haired version of me, about to board a UN chopper to Muzzafarbad (2005)