Locals in front of the destroyed clock tower of Finale Emilia.
When it comes to earthquakes, being on the periphery of the epicentre is not really newsworthy.
It means I can only report of being woken in the small hours of Sunday morning (4 am) by a strong tremor that left the bedroom light swinging for a few minutes.
I’m relieved to say that there was no casualties in my neighbourhood and no structural damage to local buildings.
Even if I had had the misfortune to live in one of the worst affected area – like the poor folks from in or around Modena or Ferrara – I would probably be one of the many struggling to put the experience into words.
A headline in one of today’s papers quotes one woman in Modena saying “the roof shook and then the walls collapsed” which is about as illuminating as witnesses to a terrorist bomb saying “there was a loud explosion”.
Fear is often inexpressible and that’s a good part of what makes it so frightening.
When the earth moves we feel particularly helpless and vulnerable. The feeling is that of being wholly at the mercy of the forces of nature.
There is no one to blame either unless you want to point an accusing finger at a malevolent god. The local authorities and seismic experts aren’t able to predict such events and their activities are confined to damage assessment and post-quake safety measures.
Townsfolk in the most damaged zones have been sleeping in their cars for fear of a repeat occurrence. This is a short-term response which strikes me as a bit like putting on a suit of armour after being struck by a blade although in their shoes I might well do the same.
The moral of the tale being – actions speak louder than words.
