Dateline ACT

Iran 03/04

Despite devastation, hope still lives on street of dreams

By Hege Opseth, Norwegian Church Aid/ACT International

Bam, Iran--On a street called Seyed Jamall Adin, where a row of houses once stood, tents are now lined up. The street used to house families and their dreams, many of which were destroyed by an earthquake on December 26. Yet the city lives on.

Before the earthquake leveled much of his city, Akhbar's guesthouse stood in the center of the street and was a meeting place for neighbors. Now, all that remains of the life Akhbar and his family led is one remaining wall of their home and a mess of twisted beds.

"Running a guesthouse was my dream, to welcome guests from all over the world and show them our rich cultural heritage and our country," Akhbar says.

Following the quake, Akhbar managed to dig out and save the lives of seven people. His son, Mohammed, was buried in the ruins of their house for hours. He survived, but his best friend, who was sleeping next to him, died.

"I was sleeping when the earthquake struck," Mohammed recalls. "And I still feel like I am sleeping, just having a nightmare that will be over soon. It is too unreal. Too many are dead - family members, my girlfriend and friends." He can't even find his girlfriend's grave.

Mohammed had a promising future ahead of him. He loved working at his father's guesthouse, which he was to take over one day. He describes it as "my whole life, my love and my future." But now, he says, "I am not able to think of the future."

Outside what was their guesthouse is a makeshift memorial of flowers and pictures of neighbors who died in the quake. Many people stop, looking fearfully for faces they know. On what is left of the entrance, residents painted a sign that says, "Bam lives."

A hundred meters away, another family is searching the ruins of their home. Several families sit in their tents along the street. Some families lost five children. Others lost three.

Masomee, a young girl, lost her parents. On the morning of the quake, she was sleeping in the room next to the kitchen with the rest of her family.

"I got buried up to my waist. It took three and a half hours before they managed to get me out. Next to me were my dead parents," Masomee says.

As with Akhbar's house, only rubble remains of Masool's home. The refrigerator still contains eggs, untouched by the earthquake. They are a reminder of the injustice of the random destruction the quake caused, which claimed the lives of Masool's parents and four other family members.

Masool's wife, Miriam, was saved by her brother-in-law. "I came here as soon as I could after the earthquake. We were digging in the ruins for hours. We managed to save Miriam," he says.

Miriam wears a mask to keep out the dust. She is shaking, and the tears stream down her cheeks when she speaks of what happened. She is sitting in the ruins, breastfeeding their baby, Hedyeh, which means gift. Her other daughter, Hadis, plays with an old camera she found in the ruins, blissfully ignorant of what has taken place.

"In one way I was lucky," Miriam says. "I have lost many, but all my children survived."

The family is searching in the ruins of their home for important documents and other possessions. They have attended funeral after funeral during the past week. Together with more than 30,000 others, their relatives who were killed are buried in a mass grave just outside the city center.

Near their ruined guesthouse, Akhbar and Mohammed have acquired tents in which to live. There is no shower, no toilet and nothing to keep them warm during the cold nights. Nevertheless, they are alive, and so are their dreams of running a guest house.

"Now I have put up a tent across the street," Akhbar says, "There I still wish guests welcome."

For more information on the various ways members of ACT International have helped survivors of the earthquake