In Italy, earthquake survivors struggle to make a tent city feel like home
Gardens and kids' bikes are small signs of an effort to create some normalcy in one of more than 170 encampments that house residents of L'Aquila, badly damaged by an April 6 quake.
Wildflowers sit on a table and laundry hangs outside the Cordones' new home – a blue tent in an encampment on the outskirts of L'Aquila, a medieval walled city nestled in the mountains 60 miles east of Rome.Skip to next paragraph
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The family of three has lived here with more than 1,200 other people since the morning of April 6, when an earthquake cracked the ground and crumbled their home and much of their city.
The Cordones' old street is now strewn with rubble. It's near the center of L'Aquila, where more than 60,000 people once lived. The once-bustling narrow lanes are empty except for police, firemen, engineers, and the occasional pack of dogs.
These are the two worlds international leaders will confront when they gather here for the Group of Eight (G-8) summit in July.
One is the temporary tent city thriving with schools, a hospital, and canvas homes complete with potted plants, gardens, and kids' bicycles leaning outside.
Less than a mile away are remains of the centuries-old city, where 1 in 4 of the stone, stucco, and concrete buildings has collapsed or is now nothing but exterior shells.
Mr. Berlusconi has said the spartan nature of the accommodations is more in keeping with the difficult economic times. He's also hoping the attention on the devastated ancient city will help raise money to cover the estimated $10 billion in damages.
Despite a history of earthquake activity going back to the 14th century, fewer than 5 percent of the buildings were insured for earthquake damage.
Life in a tent city
The decision to move the international summit was applauded by many here in this makeshift camp. It is one of more than 170 such camps, set up by Italy's Civil Protection agency, that surround the outskirts of the old walled city.
Gigliola Mastropietro and her family have been here since the morning of the quake. She says the international attention gives her a sense of solidarity and hope.
Sitting outside one of the long rows of tents with her disabled mother, Irma Cerrone, and toddler daughter, Jessica, Ms. Mastropietro says they are living in a kind of limbo "in the hands of Civil Protection."
Saving the old city of L’Aquila
The center of L’Aquila’s old walled city, a warren of narrow winding streets punctuated with wide sunny squares, remains closed and cordoned off by the military.
Its main inhabitants are now the engineers and firemen who work 15-hour days. While they are still clearing some of the rubble-strewn streets, their main job is to reinforce the damaged structures of dozens of Romanesque, Gothic, and Renaissance palaces and churches. The goal is to ensure they can withstand the small aftershocks and tremors, which have continued, albeit with lessening strength, since the main quake on April 6.
Many of the exterior walls of the old palaces are being shored up with lumber. But in some cases, as in the collapsed nave of the famous Basilica of Santa Maria di Collemaggio, firemen are using complex steel structures to protect what remains.
Engineers have estimated that 50 to 60 percent of the buildings here can be salvaged with minor work. Another 20 percent can be saved with major structural work. But the rest will simply have to be torn down.
Residents and business owners can go in to check their buildings, but only when escorted and with special permission.
Giovana D’Angelo now lives in Rome, but she has just come from seeing her family’s ancestral home in the center.
She’s worried that it’s one of those that can’t be salvaged.
"It was destroyed, completely," she says. "At this point, I only have tears."