ISLAMABAD, 23 November 2005 — Upon entering the northern Pakistani city of Muzaffarabad, once described as heaven on earth, there was little to be seen but piles of rubble. Most of its buildings had collapsed; the ones still standing had been severely damaged. Devastation was all around; there was a stench which carried more than a whiff of dead and decaying bodies. As one young man working for an NGO said, “There are still a lot of dead bodies under the debris — and most of them are in the city center.”

We came across two men in front of a Turkish field hospital, one of the largest in the city. One of the men was carrying a beautiful 3-year-old girl who was in fact his niece. The man, Taher, had only recently married; there was a radiant smile on his face. “My mother died,” he said, “she is a shaheed, a martyr.” I asked him how he was able to smile and he answered, “The time for sadness is past; now it is time to work and help those who need help. I’m from Karachi but as soon as I heard the news, I set off for Muzaffarabad. Twenty days have passed and I am still here.”

In fact most of the people we met manifested little outward grief for the dead; they were more concerned about the living who needed help. The man with Taher was his cousin, a doctor who was the father of 3-year old Sarah.

As we spoke the doctor was helping people and it was a full 10 minutes before he was able to talk to us. I asked him for his comments. “As you can see, it is a terrible situation. I am from this city and when the quake struck, half the building I was in collapsed and the other half was badly damaged. My neighbors all died when their roof fell on them. My family and I were among the lucky ones.”

After taking his family to a friend’s house which was not badly damaged, he went to the hospital where he worked only to find it too had been destroyed.

Young Sarah’s response to the earthquake, despite her three years was, “It’s from Allah, Al-Hamdulilah” as she rested her head on her uncle Taher’s shoulder. Young as she was, she showed only complete submission to God’s will, a reflection possibly of what she had been taught.

Relief camps were scattered all over town and they reminded me of Mina during Haj. We stopped at one tent camp which seemed to be the most crowded. Those living in it had established their own small areas by using stones and between the stones, they had planted flowers. It was amazing to think that just a few weeks before, a terrible earthquake had totally transformed their lives and, in some cases, killed their families and yet, they had managed to adjust to the new conditions at a pace that was not only unusual but also unexpected.

Among the tents were two straight lines of people which extended from a wall with a door from which a man was distributing food. It was very orderly and very organized.

Full-grown men as well as young girls stood in line, talking and laughing, waiting patiently for their turn to get a hot meal. “We had businesses and homes; the lives we worked for and knew have all gone now” said Shabeer, a survivor. “But life goes on; the dead are with God and now I am more worried about the living.”

Another young man who was in his twenties added: “We are a proud society and a proud people but we are now having to rely on other people for our survival. We are grateful for help but having to depend on others is very upsetting to us.”

Hundreds of stories were told to us: of loved ones killed and life-long family dreams demolished. Many people had been forced to begin their lives from scratch. Yet the people of Pakistan whom we met stood their ground, supported by their high spirits which sprang from their unshakeable faith and belief in God. All of Pakistan mourned the dead but they did not forget the living.

“Youth who were playing and singing stopped what they were doing when they heard about the tragedy. They were honoring the dead and respecting the living,” said one Pakistani friend I made during my time in the country.

Memories of friends made in those circumstances will be cherished forever. I was deeply moved by what I saw, heard and learned and I offer the people of Pakistan my understanding, sympathy and sincere respect.