(加拿大中国地震灾区采访队记Stevens, Christina 6月14日报道) 编译: 加拿大中国地震灾区采访队编辑部
瓦砾堆中一个穿着绿色雨衣的瘦弱女人，突然坐倒在浸满泥水的地上啜泣。悲伤地用双手托着头，再仰望天空，张开双臂。她有很多问题，但没人能回答。眼下她最需要的是食物，即使不为自己，也要顾儿子和孙儿。
60岁的肖任长(本文名字皆为译音)流着泪诉说他们从昨日开始便饿着肚皮，有米有火柴却没有火，雨把柴都淋湿了，米也湿透了。「我们的生活又回到30年前，可那时还有间房子。」肖任长那44岁的儿子透过翻译说道。说着说着停了下来，检查一下家里还剩下什么──除了些零散的木头、破碎的砖头之外，便是破旧的沙发。他们村的二百多个人，大部分面对同样的窘境。一个邻居拿着食物过来跟他们分享，还答应翌日再来。
这样的故事在灾区举目皆是，一种强烈的社群感在上升。中国在实行新的开放政策，但受到阻力。纵然我们已经取得四川省政府发的采访证，但也不见得通行无阻。到了另一个检查点便有人挡路，有关人员要求我们再申请当地的采访证，我们照办，但未几同样事情再次发生，于是我们转移到下一条村，在这里遇到肖和家人。她的一个亲戚发表观点，令到大家的沮丧变成共鸣：「回想我们 的祖先，几百年前也没有遇到像我们这么惨的境况，我们还每天都要面对。」
就在附近一条村，11岁的向松盘坐下来吃着午饭，她的家人聚集在帐篷下，他们住在街对面的帐篷城里。小妹妹精神不错，还面带笑容，但当被问及地震时的情况，她的笑容马上消失，随之泪水流淌。「每当我回想起便犹有余悸。」地震发生的时候她正在上学的路上，「墙纷纷倒下，我当时只想找妈妈。」她的同学们在灾难中失去生命，令她一直很难过。尤幸她现在和家人一起，有遮蔽的地方，也有食物，已经胜过许多人。
Jiu Long — Sat. June 14th
(加拿大中国地震灾区采访队记Stevens, Christina 6月14日报道)Amid a pile of rubble a skinny woman, wearing a green rain coat suddenly sat down on the soaking ground and began to cry. Inconsolable, she held her head in her hands, then looked up at the sky, hands apart. She had questions no one could answer, but right now her most pressing need was food: not just for her, but for her son and grandchildren.
They haven’t eaten since yesterday, 60 year old Ren Chang Xiu explained through her tears. They have rice and matches but no fire. Pouring rain has left their wood, and now their rice drenched. “Our life is back to over 30 years ago, and even then we had a housen” said Xiu’s 44 year old son through a translator. He then paused as he looked over what remained of their home…
Scattered logs, smahed bricks and an overtturned sofa. The majority of the 200 people in their village face the same reality. Even so, as e watched a neighbour came over with some food and promised to be back the next day, sharing what little he had.
Stories like this can be found throughout the disaster zone, where a strong sense of community is growing. The difficulty is getting her. As China grapples with a new “open” policy, there is resistance. Despite having the proper passes from the Province of Sichuan we were turned away from a check point, informed we now needed local permission as well. We did get through, but it was a scenario we faced again later, so we simply moved on to the next village, that’s where we met Xiu and her family.
Frustration turning to sympathy as one of her relatives put it all into perspective, “going back generations, over several hundred years we have never heard about such a sad story like right now. We have to face it every day”.
In the nearby village of Won Quan, 11 year old Song Pan Xiang was sitting down to lunch. Her extended family meeting together under a makeshift shelter. They live in a tent city across the street. Xiang is spirited and smiling, until asked to recunt the day of the earthquake. Her smile vanishes in an instant, replaced with tears. “Whenever I think about it, I am still scared” she tells us. She was on her way to school when the quake hit, “walls started falling and I wanted my mother” she said. She is still in mourining, having lost some of her classmates that day, but she has he family and they have shelter and food. At this time, in this place, that is all anyone is asking for. It is more than many have.
