Exodus: movement of God's People

Largely unheard in the west, the earthquake agony continues:

Geo Tv writes:

Mass exodus from quake-hit areas begins
CHAM: Headmaster Safdar Ali smiles as he says none of the 110 children in his school died when this tiny village nestled in a valley high in the mountains of Azad Kashmir was pummelled by the earthquake.

But two months later, most of the children are living in tents. Nearly all are sick. Worst of all, winter is coming.

"They must all leave," Ali says as his students mill about near the river that runs beside their refugee camp. "We aren’t hungry now. We are getting supplies. But we are worried about the weeks ahead, and beyond that."

With the snows about to fall, the plight of the hundreds of thousands of villagers living in the Kashmir high country has become a key focus of relief efforts following the Oct 8 quake.

The International Red Cross says more than 200,000 people live in this valley, the Neelum, and the Jhelum next to it, and hundreds or perhaps thousands are migrating down from the mountains each day.

The terrain is rugged under the best conditions. The only way to get to Cham, a collection of hamlets scattered over steep hills and mountainsides, is by foot, mule or helicopter. When the winter weather sets in, making helicopter drops impossible, this and hundreds of other villages will be even more isolated.

The area is politically sensitive as well. Cham, 1,700 metres above sea level, is just 8 km from the Line of Control. The Pakistan Army has an outpost and rudimentary hospital in Cham, and the surrounding slopes have in the past been the scene of intense shelling from India.

For the time being, it appears that political issues have been set aside. Pakistani helicopters loaded with supplies buzz through the valleys regularly, and the Indian military has so far overlooked minor incursions into the airspace over the LoC.

Before the climate—natural and political—changes, relief workers are racing to get as much done as they can.

The Red Cross has established a base camp here and makes frequent helicopter runs from a soccer field in Muzaffarabad. Cham is about 50 km from Muzaffarabad, a 20-minute ride by helicopter.

"Now that we have this distribution centre, we are targeting the most vulnerable people, such as widows, or men who were spared but now must take care of their children alone," says Jessica Barry, a Red Cross spokeswoman.

Though the destruction was intense, many villagers don’t want to abandon their hamlets, fearing their goats and chickens will die, leaving them without a livelihood. "They are very attached to their animals and to the soil," says Sarah Baumgartner, the Red Cross’ team leader in Cham. "They are used to harsh conditions. But this winter will be extremely severe because they have lost what they have had."

Baumgartner and other aid workers stress that no one is being forced to leave. The emphasis is instead to provide materials such as tin roofing sheets so they can rebuild their shelters, or to give them clothing and ensure they have access to medical care.

A massive migration from the high areas could spell disaster for the many refugee tent villages below, stretching resources and creating overcrowded conditions that could spawn disease. How big the migration will become remains an open question.

When his own home was destroyed, Muhamad Munir descended from five villages deeper into the mountains to a relative’s house about 2 km up the river from Cham in a hamlet called Morian. For now, he says, he’s staying. "This is where we were born, this is where we live and this is where we’ll stay," he says.