Searching for Survivors After Venezuela’s Historic Earthquakes
Key takeaways
- Starting in the seventeenth century, Spanish colonists enslaved Africans and brought them to the coffee and cocoa plantations that were concentrated in the area.
- Last week, on June 24th, La Guaira’s residents began the day’s festivities at sunrise.
- I was celebrating the holiday in a rural village called Chuao, which is also along the northern coast.
Emergency responders walk through the rubble in La Guaira, Venezuela, on June 25th.Photograph by Adriana Loureiro Fernandez / NYT / Redux Save this story Save this story Save this story Save this story In Venezuela, the coastal state of La Guaira is rich with tradition, carrying a deep connection to its fraught history. Starting in the seventeenth century, Spanish colonists enslaved Africans and brought them to the coffee and cocoa plantations that were concentrated in the area. For generations, they were typically allowed only three days off a year, from June 23rd to June 25th, in a recess mandated by the Catholic Church. During that window, they observed El Día de San Juan Bautista, which became an opportunity to practice the traditions of the communities from which they had been forcibly taken. For their descendants, it remains an occasion for celebration—a way of connecting to their lineage. Drumming, dancing, and singing often continue late into the night.
Last week, on June 24th, La Guaira’s residents began the day’s festivities at sunrise. The women and girls wore long, bright skirts, and the men wore formal trousers. At these celebrations, people parade an icon—usually a tan-skinned, dark-haired doll wearing robes and a crown, sitting atop a throne—through the community. Circles form beside drummers, and pairs take turns dancing in the middle, pirouetting around one another. By the evening, the streets in La Guaira were still full. At 6:04 P.M., the first earthquake hit, a magnitude 7.2 that was followed by another, a magnitude 7.5, just thirty-nine seconds later.
I was celebrating the holiday in a rural village called Chuao, which is also along the northern coast. Years ago, I taught English there, and I try to return whenever I can. My sister was visiting from London; it was the first time that I’d seen her in a year. We were camping in hammocks on the beach. She had found an abandoned kitten in the forest and was cradling it, pleading with me to let her bring it back to Caracas, where I live, and I was trying to persuade her that she should try drum dancing. When the first earthquake hit, it knocked us into each other. The power cut out, but I was able to connect to the internet at the house of a friend who had a generator, and I began seeing the videos of La Guaira that were circulating on social media. Almost immediately, the village started mobilizing to deliver aid.