CHINA> Post-quake Life
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Quake survivors fight to get on with life
By Erik Nilsson (China Daily)
Updated: 2009-05-25 10:13 Down the road is Hanwang's police station - or what is left of it. It is now an empty concrete husk surrounded by snarls of iron rod and concrete slabs. Police now man a new booth nearby. An entire street has been sealed off, because some buildings are in grave danger of collapsing. A sign reads: "Please walk gently and speak softly to give peace to the dead." Police say there are still bodies buried in the concrete. Across the street, Zhang and her husband operate another quake souvenir shop. "Before the quake, we sold cigarettes and drinks part time, and worked in the factory full time. After the quake, a lot of tourists came and asked where they could get more information about the quake, so we started carrying this merchandise," she says, pointing at a cardboard box of DVDs priced at 20 yuan apiece. "But business is just so-so." A car-load of tourists from Chengdu, the provincial capital, stops in front of her stand. "We wanted to come here to understand exactly what happened in Hanwang, see how people are recovering and pay our respects to those who have died and suffered," 34-year-old Liu Jie says. "It's like another world. I could not have understood this without seeing it." The road leading to Mianzhu is lined with makeshift hovels serving as temporary houses. Walls are fashioned from doors, doors are fashioned from walls and ceilings are corrugated steel sheets. In front of the community hangs a red banner reading: "To rebuild our homes and clean our streets, everyone must join the effort." Meng Youfu's extended family of 13 has lived in three of these "dwellings" since the quake. "We built this temporary house from the ruins of our old home and with some help from the government. It's not a very good place to live," Meng says. "But we'll move into our new house at the end of December. That's great news for us; it gives us hope." The new house won't cost them anything because they struck a deal with the government, swapping the land on which their old house crumpled for a new home with 30 sq m of space for every family member. "Life has gotten a lot better since the quake and this year's a lot better than the last," Meng says. "Now, there's a lot of construction going on, so we can get jobs." Out of town stand rows of buildings that look like concrete filing cabinets stripped of their doors and emptied of their contents. Li Guofeng, 53, runs a seed shop in one of these fractured and otherwise deserted buildings. Cracks zigzag along the walls of her store. "We rented this space before the quake and business was good. We still have the license, so I'm going to make use of it," she says. "I'm not afraid. I was doing business here when the quake happened and I just ran out. I do the same thing when there are strong aftershocks." Her daughter runs another branch of the shop in Mianzhu's Huaqiao. "We make just enough to live off." She says the government is building her family a new house that they will move into before the end of the year. They plan to run their store out of it. Other businesses nearby have names like "Quake Shop", "Quake Bus Stop" and "Quake Bank". Further along the main road toward Mianzhu loom several green burlap-mantled buildings encased in scaffolding - Hanwang New Town. Once these apartments are completed, residents lingering in the old town will move into their new homes and their new lives. The clock at Hanwang has not budged an inch since last May 12. Life, however, tells a different story.
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