Rescue Efforts in La Guaira Amidst Earthquake Aftermath

On a large and unstable mountain of concrete, iron and dust, dozens of people remove debris, hoping to find survivors or bodies. Suddenly everything stops. There are shouts, people running, embracing each other. A rescuer thinks he can hear a voice under the rubble. "Oh my God, thank you," cries a woman. "Really?" asks another, incredulous. The hopeful news spreads quickly around the Mariola and Maribel Residences, near a beach in La Guaira that prior to Wednesday's earthquakes had been full of people enjoying the sun. Of the two towers in the complex only one is still standing, though it is leaning and looks as though it could collapse at any moment. The other seems to have been swallowed by the earth. Several rescuers run to the road and signal for engines to be shut off, cranes to stop and drills to be silenced. The noise gradually fades and the rescuers climb the rubble, kneel and bow their heads. "Please, let us listen. Don't make noise! It seems like there's someone here," one calls out from above. The message - "Shhh… silence, please" - is repeated in a chain. People hold their breath, one of the few ways they can help. There is hope that a survivor can be rescued. As recently as Saturday, 33 people were found alive, but optimism has been dwindling with each passing hour. "Say something so we can hear you, please," someone shouts desperately to an unknown recipient, hidden beneath tons of concrete. "We are a rescue team!" These are the only words that break a silence which has become almost sacred. For 10 minutes, time seems to stand still. No sound comes from the rubble and the professionals declare a false alarm. Faces change dramatically. Neighbours have alerted nearby professional teams. They arrive within minutes, but just as quickly leave again. However, Ronnie Navarro is not willing to give up. He arrived on Saturday from Puerto La Cruz, about 350km (220 miles) from La Guaira, to help pull his uncle from the rubble. Visibly exhausted, Ronnie looks at his companions who continue to remove debris. "There are bodies there, trapped. The relatives of those who lived there are helping because the government doesn't want to help," he says. "The authorities say nothing. They pass by, take a quick look, and leave. Since they don't have relatives there..." There is still no news of his uncle. "They haven't pulled him out," he says, his voice breaking. The hope many felt just minutes earlier quickly gives way to frustration. And the frustration - here and throughout La Guaira - begins to turn into anger. Zuly Marín, a 66-year-old biologist, has lived in the Mariola and Maribel Residences for more than a decade. She had been out shopping before the earthquakes struck and decided to visit her father instead of returning home, a decision that saved her life. "I lost my niece and my brother-in-law," she tells BBC Mundo. "There has been a delay in the rescue process. I think that if [the authorities] had arrived sooner, many people would have been saved."