I stepped under a corrugated metal awning and saw a memorial that looked like a gravestone and an altar in one. I asked my guide, Alex, "May I take photos?" He shook his head no. I kept my camera pointed on the horizon.
This view is breathtaking. So is the tragedy that this site marks. We came to this site to check the progress of homes being rebuilt after a boulder crashed down the mountainside.
Below us, teams of men adjusted ropes and moved between the two ripped and ragged homes framing the landing place of the boulder. I took photos until Alex whispered urgently, "Put your camera down!" I obeyed. Someone official was roaming and looking our way.
The project was unsuccessful. The massive rock did not budge.
One man broke away from the group below and came up to where we stood. It was Don Domingo, the man who lost his entire family--the ones pictured on the memorial. He gestured toward the benches and offered a chair. I sat on a bench. Alex declined and sat on a rock. Don took the chair for himself. We all sat together in silence.
Occasionally the two men talked and returned to a quiet watch over the scene below. I imagined this is what Alex did after the tragedy--just came and sat with people. He carries others. I wonder if it weighs on him.
I asked a few questions when the conversation opened to me. Alex interpreted my curiosity about the glasses with water. Don Domingo explained it is for the four who passed away in case they are thirsty. I wondered if he was able to find peace now. He said yes--that you must. It happened, and now you must accept and find peace. He also said that they visit him in his dreams, and when they do, they are peaceful, so he is peaceful too.
After another long bout of silence, they spoke and Alex explained to me that the vases of flowers were where the bodies were found. I was sitting in front of one--where the son's body was found. To my left were two vases for the daughter and her baby. Don sat by the one where his wife was found. He described the shape of the daughter's body protecting her child.
It happened fast. The boulder bounced over the house above, hit the place where we sat as they prepared for dinner, and landed below. Don was dressing for dinner--the only one not in the room. He said the whole earth shook. His son heard the noise and ran to the family only to be crushed with them.
My muscles gave way and I felt myself start to shake. I was afraid to open my mouth for fear of all control being lost. Every breath faltered with sorrow as tears gathered in my eyes. Surreal. I sat where they died and fought my imagination. I noticed the care of this sanctuary to honor the dead.
I glanced at Don Domingo--the carved indigenous frame of his face seemed like strength and peace.
I watched the rock sit immovable as life hummed around it.
I wished for change.
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