They are just like us, working with their hands.
Within 39 seconds, two earthquakes reshaped the northern coast of Venezuela and exposed the hollowed core of a state long diminished by economic collapse. More than 1,700 people have died, tens of thousands remain unaccounted for, and the residents of La Guaira and surrounding towns have taken the work of survival into their own hands — crowbars and pickaxes standing in for the machinery that never came. A week on, the world is beginning to respond, but the window in which response and rescue are the same thing is closing.
- Two earthquakes struck within 39 seconds of each other, collapsing nearly 800 structures and killing more than 1,700 people — with tens of thousands still unaccounted for a week later.
- Residents have been digging through rubble with crowbars and pickaxes, waiting days for heavy machinery that arrived sporadically or not at all, while the government's hollowed-out capacity left civil protection workers without equipment.
- A 21-year-old man pulled alive after more than 100 hours beneath the rubble offered a rare moment of hope, even as families shifted from searching for survivors to searching for remains.
- International aid is mobilizing — the US pledging $300 million, a Navy frigate docked at La Guaira, and China and the Netherlands contributing — but the UN is already procuring 10,000 body bags.
- With over 500 aftershocks recorded and the one-week survival window closing, authorities acknowledge the death toll will rise, even as temporary camps and damage assessment commissions are announced from the capital.
A week after two earthquakes struck Venezuela's northern coast within 39 seconds of each other, the people of La Guaira were still conducting their own rescue. The quakes — measuring 7.2 and 7.5 — collapsed nearly 800 structures and killed more than 1,700 people, with tens of thousands still unaccounted for. Residents moved through the wreckage with crowbars and pickaxes, their hands wrapped in improvised protection, waiting for heavy machinery that often arrived days late or not at all.
Interim President Delcy Rodríguez called it the most brutal natural catastrophe in the nation's history, but those words carried little weight in the port cities and mountain towns where the state had effectively not shown up. Electrician Ruben Rojas put it plainly: civil protection workers wanted to help, but the government had not given them the tools to do so. Venezuela's years of economic collapse had gutted the state's capacity to respond. In El Junquito, west of Caracas, farmers and neighbors were providing the basic supplies keeping their community alive.
The grief was specific and accumulating. Carolyn Zerpa, 39, had moved from hoping to find her father and brother alive to the harder work of locating their remains. Zuly Marín, who had lived in La Guaira for fifteen years, lost her niece and brother-in-law, and believed faster intervention could have saved them. A 4.6 aftershock on Monday rattled nerves already worn thin — though one piece of news cut through the despair: a 21-year-old man, Aaron Levi Cantillo Vargas, was pulled alive from the rubble after more than 100 hours, found by teams from Venezuela, Mexico, and El Salvador in the town of Caraballeda.
International aid was arriving, if belatedly. The United States pledged $300 million and reopened the Port of La Guaira with military assistance; the USS Fort Lauderdale was docked there, using landing craft to deliver supplies to the hardest-hit coastal areas. The Netherlands and China also committed resources. But the United Nations was already obtaining 10,000 body bags, and its humanitarian coordinator said a rise in the death toll was unavoidable. More than 500 aftershocks had been recorded, and at least 2,500 structures were damaged, most of them destroyed.
Rodríguez announced 25,000 emergency workers deployed and a commission — chaired by her brother — to assess which homes were safe to return to. Temporary camps were being established for the displaced. For those still digging by hand through the rubble, these announcements felt remote. What they had was each other, and the diminishing hope that someone they loved might still be found alive.
A week after two violent earthquakes tore through Venezuela's northern coast, the people of La Guaira were still doing the work of rescue themselves. In the streets and among the collapsed buildings, residents moved with crowbars and pickaxes, their hands wrapped in whatever protection they could find. The two quakes—measuring 7.2 and 7.5 in magnitude—had struck within 39 seconds of each other on Wednesday, collapsing nearly 800 structures and killing more than 1,700 people. Tens of thousands remained unaccounted for. The government had not arrived in meaningful numbers.
Interim President Delcy Rodríguez called it the "most brutal natural catastrophe" in the nation's history, and the numbers bore that out. But words from the capital meant little to the people digging through rubble in the port cities and mountain towns where the earth had opened and swallowed homes. Ruben Rojas, a 32-year-old electrician, had been working in the wreckage with only gloves and a hard hat. When asked about the official rescue effort, he was blunt: the civil protection workers wanted to help, but the government had not given them equipment. They were reduced to working with their hands, just like everyone else. The heavy machinery arrived sporadically, often too late. In some cases, residents had spent days excavating a single building by hand before any earth-moving equipment showed up at all.
The human toll was written in the faces of those still searching. Carolyn Zerpa, 39 years old, had shifted from hoping to find her father and brother alive to the grim work of locating their remains so she could bury them properly. A pickaxe, she said, could only do so much. Zuly Marín, who had lived in La Guaira for 15 years, had lost her niece and brother-in-law. She believed that if rescue teams and equipment had arrived sooner, many more people could have been saved. The delay was not simply bureaucratic incompetence; Venezuela's economic collapse had hollowed out the state's capacity to respond to anything. In the mountain town of El Junquito, west of Caracas, residents reported seeing almost no public officials. Farmers and neighbors were providing the basic supplies that kept the community alive.
On Monday, an aftershock measuring 4.6 in magnitude rattled La Guaira and Caracas again, fraying nerves already worn thin. But there was one piece of news that cut through the despair: a 21-year-old man named Aaron Levi Cantillo Vargas had been pulled alive from the rubble after more than 100 hours trapped beneath the collapsed buildings. Teams from Venezuela, Mexico, and El Salvador had found him in the town of Caraballeda. He was receiving specialized medical care. It was a rare moment of hope in a landscape of loss.
The international response was mobilizing, though it came late. The United States announced $300 million in aid—double its previous commitment—to provide emergency medical care, food, water, sanitation, and shelter. The U.S. military had repaired and reopened the Port of La Guaira to speed delivery. A Navy frigate, the USS Fort Lauderdale, was docked there, with sailors and Marines using landing craft to bring supplies to the hardest-hit coastal areas. The Netherlands was sending a vessel with emergency supplies. China had pledged nearly $15 million. But the window for rescue was closing. The United Nations' humanitarian coordinator said there had been more than 500 aftershocks since Wednesday and that at least 2,500 structures had been damaged, most of them completely destroyed. The UN was obtaining 10,000 body bags. A rise in the death toll was, he said, unavoidable.
Rodríguez announced that more than 25,000 emergency workers, police officers, and soldiers were assisting those affected. She posted on social media that "every life saved is a victory for hope." She also announced a commission to assess the damage, to be chaired by her brother, National Assembly President Jorge Rodríguez. The group would use a color-coded system to determine which homes were safe to return to. Temporary camps were being set up for the displaced. But for the people still digging through the rubble with their bare hands, these announcements felt distant. They were waiting for answers, for debris to be cleared, for inspections, for real help. What they had was each other, and the fading hope that someone they loved might still be found alive.
Citas Notables
The civil protection people decided to help, but they don't have the equipment. The government doesn't give it. They are just like us, working with their hands.— Ruben Rojas, 32-year-old electrician
I think that if they had come sooner, many people could have been saved.— Zuly Marín, La Guaira resident
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why did the government response take so long to materialize?
Venezuela's economy has been in freefall for years. The state doesn't have the resources it once did—not the equipment, not the personnel, not the coordination. When disaster strikes, you see the hollowness of what's left.
But surely they knew this was coming? Earthquakes aren't a surprise in that region.
You can't prepare for something of this scale. Two massive quakes in 39 seconds. Nearly 800 buildings gone. The infrastructure to respond was never built, or it was built and then dismantled by years of neglect.
The people digging with pickaxes—were they angry?
Not just angry. Resigned. They understood the government couldn't help them, so they helped themselves. That's what survival looks like when the state has failed.
What does a 21-year-old surviving 100 hours under rubble tell us?
It tells us the rescue window is still open, barely. But it's closing fast. After a week, the chances drop dramatically. That one rescue is a miracle, not a pattern.
The international aid—is it enough?
It's something. $300 million, ships, personnel. But it arrives after the worst is already done. Aid is not the same as prevention, and prevention is what a functioning state provides.