LA PAPALOTA, El Salvador — David Rodriguez stands near the remains of his family’s house in the impoverished Salvadoran countryside.
The simple adobe structure has been reduced to rubble, one of tens of thousands of homes destroyed by the Jan. 13 earthquake that claimed more than 700 lives.
Now Rodriguez’s wife and five children sleep in a tent provided by a local development organization, and he sleeps underneath a plastic shelter.
The only bright spot in the story is that the quake happened at 11:30 in the morning, when the family was not inside the house.
“If it were at night,” says Rodriguez, 35, “we would have died.”
Several weeks after the earthquake ravaged this beleaguered Central American country — devastated by civil war in the 1980s and hard hit by other natural disasters, including 1998’s Hurricane Mitch — residents once again are attempting to rebuild their lives.
El Salvador’s tiny Jewish community was unaffected by the earthquake, but U.S. Jewish organizations and one Israeli group, active in long-term economic development projects around the globe, have responded to the tragedy.
Jewish groups involved in the relief effort here — and also in India, where a Jan. 26 earthquake killed at least 15,000 people — say their efforts stem from a desire to become “global citizens.”
“It doesn’t matter the politics or the religion or if Israel has relations” with a country, says Yaron Lief, director of operations for Latet, a private Israeli humanitarian organization. “We will get there quickly. There are citizens of the world who need help.”
Those involved say the projects stem from what they see as the Jewish obligation to help the less fortunate, and from the fact that Jews are increasingly prosperous.
Latet — from the Hebrew word “to give” — provides immediate relief to disaster victims, while other Jewish organizations provide longer-term aid.
Formed in 1994 in reaction to the civil war in Rwanda, the U.S.-based Jewish Coalition for Disaster Relief, which receives support from up to 45 groups, has responded to crises in places ranging from Kosovo to Ethiopia.
Many of the groups gear their outreach toward younger Jews, who may be receptive to the message of tikkun olam, or repairing the world.
The poverty is evident during a visit to El Salvadoran villages in the days after the earthquake.
Dogs, small pigs and skinny cows wander the hot, dusty streets and yards. Animal-driven carts, pulling crops and people, are as common as cars.
Refrigerators and televisions are virtually nonexistent.
While the loss of life from the Salvadoran quake is far less than that in India, the devastation is still evident. The parched earth is broken by cracks and even craters from the 7.6-magnitude quake, whose epicenter was miles away from La Papalota, a village in the rural region of Usulutan.
Along the road from the country’s main airport in San Salvador, people have been living in cardboard-box structures since the earthquake.
The proliferation of brightly colored tents and the piles of rubble from ruined houses testify to the earthquake destruction. With aftershocks continuing, residents whose homes were only slightly damaged have chosen to sleep outside for fear of further tremors.
While loss of life was greatest in San Salvador, more homes were destroyed in rural Usulutan than in other parts of El Salvador. Nearly two-thirds of this tiny nation suffered some damage in the earthquake, according to Rose Likins, the U.S. ambassador to El Salvador.
Nor are the threats over. With disruptions still possible to water and sewerage systems, the potential looms for health problems such as cholera, which may be transmitted through dirty water and dengue fever, a mosquitoborne disease.
“After a tragedy like the one we just suffered, there is always the fear of epidemics,” said a Salvadoran woman named Patricia, who is a health worker.