Search closed: Venezuelan families refuse to leave earthquakes | Earthquakes

La Guaira, Venezuela – For almost three weeks, Ivan Chino did not sleep.

Every morning, he returns to the ruins of a neighborhood in La Guaira, in northern Venezuela, to search the mountains of broken concrete left by two devastating earthquakes on June 24 that registered a magnitude of 7.2 and 7.5. They are no longer looking for survivors. Instead, he is searching for the bodies of 7 members of his family.

Chino’s parents, his grandson, his two nephews and other relatives disappeared under the rubble when their house collapsed. His wife and children survived.

Armed with little more than shovels, photos and determination, Chino spends hours each day with family and volunteers, hoping that just a little find will end the weeks of terrible uncertainty.

“Nothing can stop us,” he said. “We will still search with our hands, claws, shovels, hammers – whatever we have. We owe it to our families. This is our pain.”

For many families in La Guaira, Chino’s story has become painfully familiar.

Although the death toll has risen to 5,000, thousands of families are still searching for answers about relatives missing under the collapsed buildings. Among the confirmed deaths and the unknown fate of the missing is the emotional limbo that has been one of the deepest scars of the earthquake.

Across the city, archaeologists continue to remove debris from concrete mounds. Yet for families, every slab raised holds the hope that their loved ones will be found.

The main problem, Chino said, is not the determination to continue the search, but the lack of heavy machinery that can move large blocks. Many families believe that the quick availability of special equipment can speed up recovery efforts, as authorities continue to coordinate debris removal in the worst-hit areas.

As the days go by, the search for the missing goes through the ruins.

In temporary offices set up by government officials, families submit reports, photos and details of missing family members. Officials review information, search records and jobs to determine who has been removed from the landfill.

For grieving families, these offices represent another part of the investigation – which is done with papers instead of rescue tools, but guided by the same hope of finally learning what happened to those who lost.

Search and recovery teams are sure their work is far from over.

“We rescued about 280 people alive and found about 477 bodies,” said Dani Herrera, one of the search managers in La Guaira. “Even today, we continue to recover the victims and remove the debris.”

His words show how the tragedy has changed.

In the first days after the earthquakes, rescuers raced to find survivors trapped in collapsed buildings. Weeks later, the mission has shifted from salvation to recovery – bringing back the dead, clearing damaged areas and helping families find long-awaited answers.

For many residents, the uncertainty has become too much of a burden to bear.

Without knowing the fate of the missing family member, there can be no funeral, no grave and no opportunity to start the funeral.

In La Guaira, the scale of the disaster is no longer measured by collapsed buildings or injured people. It is tried by parents waiting for children who have not returned, husbands looking for their wives, and grandparents hoping that someone, somewhere, will recognize the name of their missing loved one.

For Chino, quitting has never been an option.

Every day he returns to the same ruins, convinced that finding his relatives is very close to the recovered bodies. It is to pay respect to the people whose lives ended in the ruins.

A few weeks after the two earthquakes, many families are no longer expecting miracles.

What they want now is true; the opportunity to know where their loved ones are, to bury them with dignity, and to ensure that they are remembered not as numbers on the missing persons list, but as people whose lives mattered.