Last journal entry of the day (22.01 GMT-5): my name is Claudio, I am a psychologist specializing in disaster mental health interventions. During the twenty-plus hours of air travel today I learned a lot and, more than ever, I feel being the author of my own story. In eleven hours, I will start training my colleagues in dealing with the psychological impact of the earthquake that hit the island and together we will build a crisis intervention.
Everything is ready and I do not feel like sleeping now. On the journey to this massive disaster, I realized something very important: I have been working in crises all over the world, but have done insufficient work on my own internal travel. Even though it is late and tomorrow will be a long and intense day, I want to write down every detail of this experience “beyond the clouds” and learn from it. I cannot procrastinate, not after today. Moreover it won’t be difficult, it’s all still very vivid and present in my mind. In fact, it will help me sleep better. I’ll just have to go through my thoughts from the moment I sat in the airplane and add what I haven’t already jotted down in my journal.
Maybe one day I will also share this writing. I think it might be interesting for colleagues working in similar contexts and those “explorers” and “would-be explorers” who do not give up their search, even in “poor visibility conditions.”
Twenty-plus hours before…
I made it. No crazy rush with full bags, extra layers of clothing nor sweat-soaked t-shirts. Nothing to feel ashamed of so far. We will see some spots might appear on my clothes after I have eaten. My bag is overfilled as usual, and it does not allow me much space for the legs. I probably won’t need everything I’d packed, but you never know. Good to sit near the window, on the wings “of course,” but still, I can see outside. I certainly won’t miss the feeling of being in the way between a person and his toileting needs. The guy next to me looks calm. For once, I am also relaxed and hope nobody from the row behind me will play with my seat for the next twelve hours.
The airplane is moving and I cannot help to think, what has happened where I am headed and what I am going to find there. Even though I have been in similar circumstances before, sometimes it is difficult to realize that behind those dramatic images on the TV are real stories of pain, loss and despair. I must prepare myself before arriving, but I do not like watching news reports. What happened is so deep, powerful and inconceivable. Yes, I guess “inconceivable” is the right term. Cognitively, I do not think we can really grasp what actually happens when everything we longed for, loved and built disappears, when the whole life we were attached to is destroyed in a few moments. How can we make our minds fathom this?
I received a document from our local partner; it is brief but full of information. Let me see, they are not sure about the number of casualties. Anyway, does it really matter how extended the destruction is? In most cases the people I am going to meet have lost almost everything. If you are hit by a tragedy, does it truly matter for you that other thousands of people had a “similar” tragedy?
Twenty years ago, while assessing a possible partnership with me, I remember the psychiatrist in Iran asking: “How many people died where you worked the last time?” I do not recall his name, but I can still see his face when I said: “Thirty.” I guess he was weighing my experience and my tolerance to stress. We cooperated eventually, but I was offended by his reaction to my answer, because he implied that the suffering of thirty families was a less serious situation. I would have liked to tell him how the life of an entire village was destroyed, a whole region upset and an entire nation touched by that event. By judging from his coldness to the subject, I thought he, along the way, had lost something by witnessing too much suffering, or maybe power and responsibilities might have unbalanced him.
So much time has passed since our exchange and I now understand that basically he was missing a key aspect in that conversation: the process. If a professional is not part of a structure and a process, he cannot be supportive to one, twenty-eight or one thousand persons. If I were he, today I would have probably asked: “Which kind of process are you suggesting? What is your experience in this regard?” It is curious how adding a line to this story cheered me up a little.
The guy next