Back home after six intense days of work on the island of La Palma, I would like to share my experiences during these days under the Volcano as part of the Emerlan volunteer team.
A team deployed to La Palma since October 18th, consisting of three 4x4 vehicles and nine people, whom we rotate based on our available days off, with the aim of being there, alongside our brothers and sisters from La Palma.
Undoubtedly, a difficult personal experience, not only because of working under the fear of not knowing what might happen in hours, even minutes, as each day the news makes you reconsider whether you should be there or not.
In the news, you see how they report the dozens of tremors that have occurred in the last hours, while announcing new earthquakes of greater intensity, possible air contamination from sulfur, ash clouds, volcano explosions, etc. To all this news, you have to add the terrible roar of a mountain that is more frightening when it keeps a momentary silence than when it doesn't stop roaring.
These silences of the volcano are accompanied by the silence of the places, entire towns silenced with their streets covered in black ash, where the only footprints you can find are those of a cat or bird wandering around as if it were a science fiction movie.
Behind these silences, you know that explosions are coming soon, and behind them, more ash clouds, more lava, more destruction of the people of La Palma. You see how the lava comes out and out... The lava flows don't advance, but you know they will soon, although you don't know where. Until it appears and starts to walk slowly, simply a few meters per hour, some days faster and others slower.
A slow, noisy, and very destructive walk, it approaches the houses and slowly devours them, throwing them down as if they were paper houses, regardless of the feelings of the people of La Palma.
It engulfs everything in its path, houses, farms, schools, and everything that stands in its way...
A slow and horrifying advance that leaves families with nothing beyond their memories or those memories they were able to take out before the volcano decided it wanted to go there. The most difficult thing of all is seeing the sadness of the people, talking to them while we accompany them to take out small objects, some belongings, or to clean the sand from their houses still standing with the hope that the volcano will decide to stop or at least change its direction.
Tears running down their faces covered in black ash that rains from the sky. Desperation in every face... One lady told me that she would give her life if the volcano would stop once and for all, if the destruction of her land of La Palma would stop.
People who tell you the history of their houses and farms, worked little by little by their grandparents and parents for years and years of sweat, so that in a minute the earth would swallow everything and leave a desert of smoking rock.
Seeing how in an hour or two they must put their lives in a truck, choosing what to take and what to leave inside their houses to, hopefully, return tomorrow, if the lava has not decided to take their lives during the night. Each person with their story, some different from others, but all united by the same pain of destruction and the same hope that the volcano will stop once and for all. But, despite all this, the volunteers return home with the personal satisfaction of having worked side by side with them, of making them see that they are not alone, that although we cannot stop the volcano, we can fight against the ashes that try to cover their houses and help to quickly gather their lives or even give a hug and comfort.
For us, the important thing is to see that sparkle in their eyes when they see that, despite everything that is happening, we are there by their side. Volunteers from all the islands and of all colors who are there at their disposal for whatever they need, and they know it.
Thank you is the word they tell you again and again. It was the first word I heard upon my arrival in La Palma, thank you... Some neighbors came to thank us for going, according to them the volunteers are there, supporting them.
They told me that they had lost everything but that there were still many people who needed our help and that the people of La Palma will never forget it. And it is true, many even told us that when everything passed we should return to their houses at least for a coffee, that we will always be welcome in their homes.
I return home reluctantly, I am invaded by a deep sadness for not being able to be there more days, but personal duties are personal duties. However, and if nothing changes soon, we will return to continue working, to continue collaborating. I am calm because even if I am not there, other volunteer colleagues will be.
Undoubtedly, as US General Jimmy Doolittle stated, "Nothing is as strong as the heart of a volunteer."
