La Guaira, Venezuela. A city that was already on a bit of a wonky footing has now been given a proper jolly good shake by Mother Nature, who clearly had a few too many doubles and forgot to say 'steady on.' The seismic belt of the Caribbean has delivered a 6.8 magnitude wallop, leaving buildings looking like a toddler’s attempt at a jigsaw puzzle and the locals wondering if the earth is having a bit of a laugh.
BBC’s John Sudworth, a man who has seen more earthquakes than a seismologist on a pogo stick, is on the ground, presumably clinging to a lamppost and trying to file a report without swallowing a mouthful of dust. The scene is one of glorious chaos. A church spire has decided to recline at a jaunty 45-degree angle, cars are parked in second-floor windows, and the air is thick with the kind of panic that only a sudden recollection of your own mortality can bring. One local, Maria, was quoted as saying she thought the end was nigh. 'I was making arepas,' she wailed, 'and then the floor started doing the salsa.' Indeed, Maria, the planet has a wicked sense of timing.
But fear not, for the United Kingdom, in its infinite wisdom and love of all things that require a bit of propping up, is offering structural engineering support. Yes, Britain is sending a team of men with hard hats, clipboards, and a pathological obsession with load-bearing walls to survey the damage. 'We’ll have those buildings sorted in a jiffy,' said a Foreign Office spokesman, who was probably a hundred miles away and had just Googled 'Venezuela.' 'We’ve got experience with wobbly structures. Look at the Shard on a windy day.'
The offer is met with a mix of gratitude and bewilderment. 'Why would we want the people who built the Millennium Bridge?' asked a local engineer, referring to London’s famous wobbling footbridge. It’s a fair point. But Britain’s gift to the world has always been a blend of good intentions and bloody-minded persistence. We will send our finest architects, who will arrive with a briefcase full of regulations, a Thermos of tea, and a deep-seated belief that any problem can be solved with a bit of steel reinforcement and a stern word.
Meanwhile, the political theatre continues. The Venezuelan government is quick to point out that this is clearly the fault of international sanctions, or perhaps a CIA plot involving giant drills. President Maduro appeared on state television, his eyes glazed with the manic energy of a man who has just discovered that geology can be weaponised. 'This is an attack on our revolution,' he declared, shaking a fist at an invisible enemy. The crowd, still trying to salvage their possessions from the rubble, nodded wearily. They’ve seen worse. At least this disaster doesn’t have a queue at the petrol station.
As the aftershocks ripple through the city, one cannot help but marvel at the sheer absurdity of it all. Here we have a nation that has mastered the art of collapsing in slow motion, and now the ground itself has decided to get in on the act. The BBC continues its broadcast, Sudworth’s voice a steady drone over the chaos. 'We are feeling another tremor now,' he says, as if narrating a particularly dull nature documentary. 'The buildings are swaying again. This is quite normal for this region.' Normal is a word that has lost all meaning. But then, the British are experts at understatement.
So let us raise a glass of questionable gin to La Guaira. May your walls hold firm, your spirits stay high, and your British engineers arrive with more than just a pamphlet on bricklaying. The offer stands: we will bolt your bollards, brace your beams, and maybe, just maybe, teach you how to make a proper cup of tea to calm the nerves. God save the ground beneath our feet, for it is clearly off its rocker.
