For several days, the inhabitants of Paiporta have been grappling with the aftermath of their town’s destruction. However, what deeply affects them now is the impression that they have been overlooked by their nation.
As we traverse this community, what greets our eyes is unyielding labor – extracting mud, draining water, and salvaging vehicles.
Yet, this commendable effort is not being orchestrated by officials in uniforms. Paiporta is being reclaimed by its own citizens, companions, and altruistic volunteers.
“The town feels chaotic,” expresses Cristina Hernandez, a newcomer from Madrid who arrived here a year ago.
“There is no organized response, so we are doing what we can. We feel deserted by the authorities, and there are many thieves at night, which intensifies our fear.
“It’s a nightmare not only due to the floods but also because of the lawlessness we are presently experiencing. Following the disaster, the most distressing part is that we continue to feel afraid.
Latest on Spain’s floods: King Charles expresses deep heartbreak
“We lack food and clothing. Some friends remain unaccounted for, and others have lost their homes along with all their belongings.
“It is quite disheartening to witness trucks passing by while no one is assisting with the mud removal or the house cleanups; we feel abandoned.”
As if on cue, we spot a helicopter soaring above us, yet it merely glides past. She shakes her head disapprovingly.
Residents and volunteers engage in cleanup efforts four days post the flash floods in Paiporta. Pic: AP/Angel Garcia
“We observe them, yet we don’t grasp what they are doing,” she remarks. It is, for now, a heart-wrenching sight – a fleeting glimpse of aid that arrives and departs.
Surrounding us is a landscape of ruin – numerous vehicles lying wrecked, many submerged in pools of stagnant water. Thick mud blankets heaps of remains. Scattered across the street are a child’s booster seat, a shoe, and a small handbag. Stray wires lay entangled like a spider’s web.
AP/Angel Garcia
Along the streets, every residence bears the brunt, stained with mud. You can observe the dark water line showing the peak level reached by the flood.
Ruth is tirelessly sweeping water down the street, repeatedly directing it towards an open manhole. She pauses for a brief moment, before resuming her task.
She eventually takes a breather and shares that she has yet to encounter a policeman, a soldier, a doctor, or any official personnel. “It’s solely us who are cleaning this up,” she states. “Where are they?”
Read more:
Spain grapples with catastrophic flash floods
The ‘completely random devastation’ in a town where 40 perished
Floods struck ‘like a tsunami’ – eyewitness account
Please use Chrome browser for a more accessible video player
Aerial imagery reveals the impact of flooding
I begin to inquire if she is upset with the government, and she cuts me off. Her resentment is unmistakable. “Upset? I am incredibly furious with the government,” she exclaims.
“I don’t care what political party you back, because my loyalty lies with Spain. This situation is unbearable.”
She strolls away momentarily, then returns and softly takes my arm. “Follow me,” she urges. “The world must witness this.”
We turn a corner and arrive at a street completely blocked by a wall of vehicles, intertwined with massive heaps of debris.
A refrigerator, a microwave oven. Ruth climbs atop a crushed hood and gestures for me to join her. “No one can access these homes; no one has checked these cars,” she remarks. “They have been overlooked.”
A man engages with a Guardia Civil officer in Paiporta. Pic: AP/Angel Garcia
It is not accurate to claim that no officials have arrived in Paiporta. We observe local police, civil guards, ambulances, and firefighters. As we are departing, we even spot a military vehicle arriving.
However, there appears to be a lack of coordination among them. At one juncture, I witnessed a police officer attempting to manage a vehicle recovery operation, but he was ignored. He exchanged a few words with a colleague, and then both drove away.
Regarding the military, I spoke with one of the soldiers standing on the roadside, awaiting a truck to clear the way for them to enter.
The soldier exuded frustration. “We want to assist; we know we can contribute, yet we haven’t received any directives on what we need to do,” he mentioned.
“So you require a commander—someone to provide direction?” I inquired. This was met with a profound, slow nod.
Paiporta has endured tremendous suffering due to these floods. At least 60 individuals have lost their lives, a number that astonished Cristina when I shared it with her. Naturally, they have no internet access and cannot exit their town. “There will be more casualties,” she responded.
However, what exacerbates their grief is the prolonged wait for assistance. The previous year, I accompanied my colleagues to a devastating earthquake in Morocco, and within two days, well-equipped Spanish response teams were on site, saving lives and managing the crisis.
And yet now, in their own nation, the response is slow-moving and indecisive.
An offer from France to provide assistance was rejected. We hear that large contingents of troops are being mobilized, yet we have scarcely seen any, and those we’ve encountered are unsure of their responsibilities.
These communities are in dire need of guidance, reassurance, assistance, and certainty. Instead, at this moment, they find themselves struggling to manage on their own.
