BY TIM JOHNSON
MACUTO, Venezuela -- The coastal hometown of Nestor Jaspe is a
modern-day
Pompeii, buried in neck-deep hardened mud and rocks from floods
last month,
where he has returned for the first time to survey his losses.
``My taxi is under here,'' he says, pointing to a dusty patch
of earth that also
covers a 20-seat bus that once provided his livelihood. ``It's
a brand new Daewoo,''
he laments. ``I bought it last year.''
Four weeks after torrential rains stripped mountainsides and unleashed
floods that
screamed down hillsides of coastal Venezuela with a lethal cargo
of mud, tree
trunks and boulders, residents like Jaspe are coming back to
their ruined homes,
toiling at recovery and contemplating the massive damages.
``I used to be middle class,'' said Luis Arlia, 38, a computer
shop owner who lost
his uninsured home and his shop. ``Not any more.''
Many devastated areas still have no electricity. Drinking water
is in short supply.
And relief officials flying over the afflicted coast, viewing
the rubble in town after
town, appear astonished at the extent of damage.
``I don't think people outside of here understand the magnitude
of this disaster,''
said U.S. Air Force Col. William E. Osborne, who heads a U.S.
military relief
team. ``Every river valley had a rock slide. So every town got
hit. It's from serious
to catastrophic damage.''
It is still unclear how many people were buried in the mud and
landslides from
Venezuela's worst disaster this century. Estimates from the Venezuelan
Red
Cross and authorities under President Hugo Chavez range from
15,000 to 50,000
people dead. Osborne said U.S. officials believe there may have
been at least
16,000 fatalities.
CORPSES UNEARTHED
Far fewer bodies have been recovered, but bulldozers pushing a
primitive dirt road
through the buried coastal region unearth corpses almost daily.
Bodies continue
to wash up on beaches, according to news reports, even as far
away as the
island of Aruba.
Triggered by once-a-century rains, the floods and mudslides ripped
through an
area of central coastal Venezuela where 350,000 people lived.
The disaster also
lashed Caracas, the capital on the other side of a mountain range,
although with
less fury.
Immense boulder fields, tangled with tree trunks and mangled cars,
now lie where
stream beds once dropped into the sea from El Avila mountain
chain.
What look like scratch marks or tear streaks mar mountainsides,
where
vegetation on thin topsoil gave way and roared down gullies and
streambeds.
``It became a land avalanche, basically,'' said Roddy Tempest,
head of a Durham,
N.C., water purification company helping U.S. relief efforts.
``The size of some of
those stones exceeds 10 tons, and some of them came from several
miles away.
. . . It's worse than it looks because there are so many people
covered up.''
ENTERING UPSTAIRS
To enter some high-rise buildings, residents clamber in through
second-story
windows. The first floors of hundreds of homes and apartment
buildings, from La
Guaira to Carmen de Uria, remain buried. In the resort town of
Macuto, once
dotted with beach restaurants, it seems that every block, street
and home has its
tale of woe.
``There are three dead in here,'' said Pedro Amore, 50, a waiter
who approached a
visitor and pointed to a house. ``It smells of death. Smell it?''
Relief workers say residents of Vargas state, the coastal area
north of Caracas
that was hardest hit, remain psychologically brutalized.
``People are in shock. They have a lost look in their eyes. They
aren't coherent
when they speak,'' said Winston Rojas, an epidemiologic expert
who lives in the
ruined coastal town of Los Corales.
ACCESS PERMITS
Access to the area is only with permits issued by the national
guard, and heavily
armed troops watch for looting.
On Macuto's Avenida España, relief workers painted the
owner's name on the
front of each home, along with a telephone number, hinting at
the people who
once occupied the houses on this now-desolate and buried street.
Jaspe, 38, and his family occupied a four-bedroom house until
that terrifying night
Dec. 15 when mudslides and rock avalanches roared down the Macuto
River and
swallowed the town. Some residents like Jaspe have returned in
recent days,
traveling along a newly opened coastal dirt road, to size up
what is left of their
property, then going back to refugee shelters or other lodging
in Caracas by
nightfall.
Looking resigned and shaken, Jaspe said his wife, Lilia, and their
three children
have suffered nightmares since the rock slides.
``I think they need to see a psychologist. It was traumatic. They
were crying and
screaming. We could feel the rocks coming down,'' he said.
Like many homes, the Jaspe residence, with its open-air rooftop
terrace, was
uninsured.
Before the floods, the small Macuto River flowed three blocks
away. But many
coastal rivers changed route, their original beds blocked by
debris and boulders.
The Macuto jumped its banks and now flows along what used to
be Isabel la
Catolica Avenue, 25 yards behind the Jaspe home.
PLANS CRITICIZED
Standing on the river's new banks, retired school evaluator Humberto
Castillo, 60,
decried plans by President Chavez to relocate coastal residents
inland.
``The Chavez government does not believe in the capacity of people
to rebuild.
This is an error. People here must rebuild what they had. Humans
are creatures
of habit, and we are accustomed to living here,'' he said.
Faced with decades of lax building enforcement that allowed scores
of
shantytowns to spring precariously from mountainsides, Chavez
and other
officials insist that entire settlements must be relocated. In
Caracas, authorities
this week began moving 1,500 families in the Gramoven and Blandin
shantytowns, saying they were the most extreme cases of the one
million
residents believed to live on unstable lands.
``It is preferable to have 5,000 angry people than to have 5,000
dead people,'' Civil
Defense director Angel Rangel said.
Osborne, the U.S. Air Force colonel, said he believes government
estimates that
full recovery may take as long as seven years are reasonable.
``When you look just at the scope of the thing, just the amount
of material to be
removed off the roads and out of the towns, it is tremendous,''
Osborne said. ``But
obviously they are well on the way to immediate recovery.''
He said he believed that only another month or two are needed
``before minimal
systems and services are provided throughout the area.''
Copyright 2000 Miami Herald