CALAIS, Maine — Ashley Hinson Dhakal was in the living room of her apartment in Kathmandu, Nepal, when the earthquake struck last weekend.
Her husband, Ankit, had been making coffee, said the the 30-year-old Calais native.
“We felt the earth start to move, but when it didn’t stop, I heard him yell, ‘Run!’ and we both went straight for the door,” she said. “By that time, we had to brace ourselves in the doorway to remain standing.”
Hinson Dhakal is one of several Mainers, including documentary filmmaker Alison Hudson and a church group, who survived the quake.
The Dhakals live in a part of Kathmandu called Old Baneshwor, which is one of the most crowded areas of the city and is full of four- to six-story cement buildings. Fortunately the house across the street had just been demolished, so Hinson Dhakal and her husband joined 40 or 50 people gathering in its remains, some sitting on pieces of brick in the rubble as the earthquake shook structures all around them.
“We ran barefoot across the street and huddled with our neighbors,” she said.
Hinson Dhakal said she isn’t sure how much structural damage occurred to her home, but the couple is now living in a tent with relatives because the building has been deemed unsafe.
“We were very lucky because we have a close relative that has a yard — a rarity in a crowded city like Kathmandu. We’ve set up a large open tent where about 15 of us are sleeping,” she said.
Despite “intense rain and thunderstorms,” they’ve managed to stay warm and dry, she said, adding that temperatures have been fluctuating between the 50s and 60s.
“We were lucky. Most people are staying in the few open spaces around the city — the parks are completely filled, temple areas, medians in the road, sidewalks — every bit of open or green space is covered with people who are afraid to go back to their homes, or don’t have a home anymore,” Hinson Dhakal said. “Some have pieces of tarp tied to telephone poles, some are sharing large open tents, and sometimes they have no shelter overhead at all.”
Hinson Dhakal said she and her husband have limited privacy in their tent but they still have it better than many others.
“People all over the city have practically [nothing] — no privacy, no clean water, no fresh food, and no bathroom,” she said.
About three hours after the initial quake, the couple ran back inside their apartment and gathered clothes, water and valuables, including her computer, said Hinson Dhakal, who works for a private company as a Web designer. At first, there was no electricity or Internet access. But Internet became available by Monday and she was able to contact her parents in Calais through email.
Hinson Dhakal’s mother, Paula Lumbert, said Monday she had communicated with her daughter by email but didn’t have much information.
“I haven’t received a phone call yet. She said the phone lines are still pretty jumbled,” Lumbert said.
Aftershocks are predicted to continue throughout the year, Hinson Dhakal said, and this makes them uncomfortable with returning to their home.
“But we cannot live in this tent indefinitely, so at some point we have to get used to the idea of going home. Others are not so lucky — for those that have lost homes, it is uncertain where they will go and when,” she said.
The aftershocks have been intense and fairly regular. On Sunday, one aftershock caused more buildings to crumble. Monday evening, another one woke up the couple, she said.
Hinson Dhakal said many people are trying to leave the city any way that they can, believing it’s safer elsewhere and because basic supplies are running out in the city. Some are trying to return to their homes outside of Kathmandu, crowding into whatever transportation they can find, often sitting three or four on top of each other.
Hinson Dhakal said the people in Kathmandu still don’t know the identities of everyone who was killed or hurt in the quake.
“Only in time will we find out the victims’ identities. However, several people from my husband’s family’s village of Sindhuli have died, so it is likely we may know some of them,” she said. “Ankit’s cousin, who is here in the tent, has a friend whose entire family was killed.”
Both Hinson Dhakal and her husband are not working and are uncertain when they will be called back to their jobs. The office building where she works has been cracked, she said. Her husband is a legal expert for the government, so his work has been put on hold because most of the city’s resources are being taken up with the crisis.
“Driving down the street, 99 percent of stores are closed. The exceptions are some pharmacies and stores with basic staples,” she said. “Basics are also being rationed — for example, the shopkeeper only sold a small amount of sugar to us this morning, saying that other people would need it too.”
Hinson Dhakal moved to Nepal in October 2013 to fulfill an internship requirement for her master’s in sustainable economic development from the University for Peace in Costa Rica.
“Ever since I moved here, I was told that a major earthquake was predicted every 80 years,” she said. “After doing the math, I realized it was around this time. Everyone knew it could happen but, of course, everyone hoped it wouldn’t.”
Lumbert said she planned to visit her daughter in Nepal on May 12 but that trip is now on hold.
“I’m just grateful that they’re safe,” Lumbert said. “This is so tragic. I’m so sad for the people of Nepal. They have such limited resources as it is.”