CAIS

For several years I have had the privilege of working with Teachers Without Borders (TWB) in Dujiangyan, China. This spring I prepared for my visit as usual, gathering a team of teachers to continue the work of TWB by conducting workshops for teachers in the region. Then on May 12, the earthquake hit and forever changed the world for people in Dujiangyan and throughout Sichuan province.

It was not clear to me just how much things had changed until I went back. Along with two other members from TWB, I met with the education bureau to discuss how we might help without getting in the way. The sights we saw and the stories we heard left us with a strange combination of sad and uplifting feelings.

Ninety percent of the buildings in Dujiangyan are empty. Though I knew of that statistic before leaving for China, facing the reality is very different from reading a statistic. In spite of this, the city is bustling. Shopkeepers have moved to the sidewalk. Commerce goes on, as buyers and sellers meet in front of the shells of buildings. It seems almost normal until you look closely at the cracks in the walls and wonder at the empty buildings that seem to lurk over the tents that serve as shops. Somehow the city continues.

People live in tents wherever they can find space, often in the playgrounds of abandoned schoolyards. Luckier individuals have moved to temporary housing in white buildings with blue or red roofs that have sprouted up around the city. Rubble is still being cleared and apartment buildings wait to be demolished. I found myself amazed at the amount of work that has been done in less then three months. When I looked again at the hundreds of empty buildings standing among the tents, I wondered how the city could ever be rebuilt. Then I was reminded that Dujiangyan had not even experienced the worst of the damage.

Schools in particular were hit hard, but school is back in session, as teachers try to make up for the days lost immediately after the earthquake. A total of 6,000 students from six schools were combined in a single temporary camp. Under the red roofs, in buildings lined up like military barracks, I saw classrooms that I would recognize anywhere. Dedicated teachers are in front of students doing their lessons just as they were at 2:15 on May 12.

The greatest impact, however, came from looking at the student work displayed on the walls of the classrooms. First you notice the pictures students drew of what they lost. Broken buildings, collapsed homes, everything gone. Then you see the math tests pasted along side of the art. It is perhaps the clearest statement of both the pain of the tragedy and the drive to keep going.