标签： South America

Eight days after a devastating pair of back-to-back earthquakes shook northern Venezuela, an international coalition of rescue teams pulled off a miraculous early Thursday extraction, pulling a trapped 43-year-old security guard alive from the collapsed rubble of a coastal shopping center. The successful rescue of Hernán Alberto Gil Flores has become a powerful symbol of hope amid widespread destruction that left thousands dead and countless communities shattered.

Gil Flores, a night-shift security guard stationed at the Galerías Playa Grande shopping center in Catia La Mar, a coastal town in the hard-hit La Guaira state, was inside his small on-duty cabin when the first magnitude 7.2 tremor struck on June 24. Just moments later, a second 7.5-magnitude quake hit, triggering the total collapse of the surrounding multi-story concrete structure. In a cruel twist of fate that saved his life, the small prefabricated security cabin remained intact, creating a narrow pocket of breathable air that shielded him from falling crushing debris for eight full days.

Costa Rican Red Cross specialized rescue teams first detected faint signs of life and established contact with Gil Flores over the weekend, sparking a coordinated round-the-clock extraction effort. Led by Chilean urban search and rescue firefighters, the operation brought together expert teams from the United States, Portugal, Mexico and multiple other nations, all united by a shared commitment: leave no survivor behind. “We were never going to leave him here,” confirmed Costa Rican Red Cross rescuer Minyar Collado ahead of the final extraction.

Rescue crews navigated a series of deadly hazards throughout the multi-day effort, including unstable, shifting structural rubble, torrential tropical downpours, and near-constant aftershocks that threatened to trigger further collapses. To keep Gil Flores stable as crews tunneled toward him, teams used a telescopic camera to maintain nonstop communication, and passed bottled water and liquid nutrients through a narrow drilled shaft to sustain him over the final three days of the operation. Veteran Chilean firefighter María Paz Campos talked the survivor through every step of the process, keeping him calm through the final agonizing hours of waiting. In pre-rescue footage released by Chilean firefighters, Gil Flores can be seen passing time sketching, before following instructions to put on protective goggles to shield his eyes from falling fine dust and concrete particles.

In a poignant detail shared by Collado, when rescuers first made contact, Gil Flores asked them not to inform his wife he was alive, worried that she would suffer additional heartbreak if he did not survive the extraction. For his spouse, Gusbimar González, the days after the quakes were filled with unrelenting despair, until the moment she learned the news: “when I learned he was alive, I saw a ray of light in the darkness,” she told the Associated Press. The couple share two children, aged 8 and 10, who had waited anxiously for news of their father.

When rescuers carried Gil Flores out on a stretcher covered with an orange protective tarp, teams from every participating nation broke into cheers, as crowds of onlookers lined the path to a waiting Red Cross ambulance. Members of the Costa Rican Red Cross team embraced each other, laughing through tears of relief at the successful outcome.

The twin June 24 shallow earthquakes that triggered the disaster left an unprecedented trail of destruction across northern Venezuela. More than 2,200 people were killed, over 11,000 were injured, and tens of thousands of buildings across the region were damaged or destroyed. La Guaira state, where Catia La Mar is located, bore the brunt of the catastrophe, but this unlikely rescue has given a shattered community a rare moment of hope in the wake of overwhelming tragedy.

A chain of catastrophic events has left dozens of recently deported Venezuelans unaccounted for, after a pair of powerful earthquakes struck the country just hours after they arrived on a U.S. deportation flight, leaving hundreds dead and thousands displaced. Among the missing is 23-year-old Abelardo Rincón, who built a stable new life in Georgia over six years: he worked at a local car dealership, married, and was eagerly awaiting the birth of his first daughter. That future was cut short when U.S. immigration authorities detained him as part of a national immigration enforcement push, before putting him on a June deportation flight carrying more than 140 Venezuelan deportees.

Rincón landed in Venezuela on June 24, and while still in government custody, he managed to place a call to his family back in Atlanta, telling them he was being housed at a coastal hotel in La Guaira alongside the other flight passengers. Just hours after that call, twin earthquakes tore through central and coastal Venezuela. Official counts put the death toll at over 2,200, with more than 10,000 injured; United Nations data estimates as many as 50,000 people are still missing across the disaster zone. Rincón and dozens of other deportees from that flight, designated Flight 164, are among those unaccounted for, leaving their already fractured families reeling from a cascade of unthinkable loss: arrest, forced separation from their lives in the U.S., deportation, and now disappearance in a catastrophic natural disaster.

When contacted by the BBC for comment on the cases, the U.S. Department of Homeland Security (DHS), which oversees immigration enforcement agencies including Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE), issued a generic statement that provided no specific details about Rincón or other passengers on the flight. “This flight safely reached Venezuela and all illegal aliens on board were returned home,” a DHS spokesperson said Tuesday. “When an individual is no longer in ICE custody, ICE is no longer responsible for them.” It remains unclear whether the deportees were removed for illegal border crossing or other immigration violations. Venezuelan authorities have set up public information hotlines for disaster inquiries, but widespread infrastructure damage has left information extremely scarce in the days after the quakes.

All 140-plus passengers on Flight 164, which included 19 women and seven children, underwent medical screening and processing after landing, then were placed in Hotel Santuario La Llanada in La Guaira, one of the regions hit hardest by the earthquakes. The coastal city suffered widespread building collapses and massive destruction, reducing the hotel where the deportees stayed to rubble. Many of the returnees managed to contact their families to announce they had landed safely, only for the disaster to strike before families could process the news of their return.

Jose Rincón, Abelardo’s grandfather, told BBC Mundo he has examined more than 200 bodies across morgues in Caracas, still searching for any trace of his grandson. He attempted to reach the collapsed hotel site to search for himself, but Venezuelan authorities blocked access, telling him there were no survivors left at the location. “If we could just see what we need to see — if I could see the rubble, I’d be satisfied — but days have gone by and I still haven’t found him, alive or dead… So what am I supposed to do?” the grandfather said.

Another passenger, 35-year-old Darwin Eliecer Serrano Lopez, called his cousin at 5:32 a.m. local time to tell his family he had returned to Venezuela after four years living in the U.S. The first earthquake struck less than 30 minutes later. Serrano Lopez had been detained in Chicago and held in four separate detention centers before being placed on the deportation flight, relatives said. After nearly a week of fruitless searching, his cousin Paola Chacón said the family has resigned itself to the likelihood he did not survive. “So many days have passed… we aren’t getting any answers,” she said, adding that the family will not leave the search effort until they can bring his body home for burial.

Mildrey Sarazo, Serrano Lopez’s wife, had not seen her husband in three years, and as of earlier this week had not told their two daughters, ages 9 and 15, what has happened. “He didn’t want to come back yet” from the U.S., she said, adding that the family only wants confirmation and the chance to lay their loved one to rest. “We want to bury our relatives. We want them to hand him over so we can identify him and be certain.”

The family of 28-year-old Daniel Alejandro Nunez, another Flight 164 passenger who called his mother shortly after landing, is also grappling with conflicting reports and no clear answers. “We’ve searched for him in hospitals, in morgues – everywhere,” his stepfather Jose Alejandro Abache told BBC Mundo. For families already torn apart by years of separation due to immigration status, the potential loss of their loved ones immediately after their forced return to Venezuela is an unthinkable tragedy.

Not all passengers on the flight have been counted among the missing, however. A small number survived the collapse of the hotel, and have spoken of the surreal horror of escaping rubble in a country they had left years before. Fifty-eight-year-old Lisbeth Portillo, who was sharing a second-floor room with 16 other women when the building collapsed, told the Associated Press she saw the woman beside her fall as the structure gave way, with everyone screaming for help. “I was born again — God gave me a second chance,” she said.

For some families, word of a loved one’s survival has come only days after the disaster, often accompanied by devastating news of permanent injury. Twenty-two-year-old Anderson Daniel Salcedo, who had lived in the U.S. for three years and sent money home to support his family, was trapped under rubble for nearly 40 hours before he was rescued, Reuters reported. By the time his family located him at a university hospital in Caracas, doctors had already amputated both of his legs. Because he had no identification on him after the collapse, hospital staff could not identify him or contact his family for days, his grandmother Marlene Lozano told Reuters. “He spent 40 hours in that hole, he didn’t have an ID, they couldn’t account for him because he had no documents. We had no way to communicate with him and didn’t know anything,” Lozano said. Even as the family grapples with the permanent change to Anderson’s life, they remain grateful he is alive. “Here we are praying, asking God to give him strength and courage. We know he won’t be the same anymore — he’s missing his legs — but we love him, just the way is.”

In the wake of two devastating earthquakes that ripped through Venezuela last week, a remarkable story of survival has emerged from the rubble, offering a flicker of hope to a nation reeling from catastrophic loss. Two-year-old Kleiber Moran was pulled alive from the collapsed remains of his family home in northern Venezuela’s La Guaira state by a Jordanian search and rescue team in the early hours of Tuesday, six full days after the disaster struck. Now, recovering in a Caracas hospital, the toddler is in the care of his 23-year-old aunt Andreína Sarmiento, who opened up exclusively to the BBC about her overwhelming joy at reuniting with her nephew — and her unwavering hope that Kleiber’s parents, still missing beneath the wreckage, will be found alive too.

Sarmiento, sitting at her nephew’s hospital bedside clutching his hand, recalled the moment she learned of the rescue that stunned the nation. When a friend called from La Guaira with the news, she collapsed to the floor, screaming and crying with a flood of shock and relief, before rushing immediately to meet the toddler. She confirmed that British rescue teams had also made attempts to reach Kleiber before the Jordanian operation ultimately succeeded, a collaborative effort that underscores the global response to Venezuela’s tragedy.

When Sarmiento and Kleiber finally came face to face, the 2-year-old looked up at his aunt and immediately recognized her, saying softly, “Auntie.” In those first hours after rescue, the little boy was in a state of severe shock, crying uncontrollably as he was admitted to the hospital. But after a full night of rest, his condition improved dramatically: by Wednesday, he had stabilized, and now he is playful and responsive, giving his aunt small kisses and telling her when he feels discomfort. As Sarmiento spoke to reporters, Kleiber lay beside her, tucked under a Spiderman blanket, surrounded by donated toys, and occupied with pushing a small toy car across the hospital bed. He shares his ward with other child survivors of the earthquakes, and surprisingly, he suffered no major injuries — only minor scratches on his arms and legs, with no fractures to be found.

For Sarmiento, however, joy is tinged with deep grief and longing. She has committed to raising Kleiber with the same warmth a mother would give, until her sister — Kleiber’s mother Ana Luz — can be found, a outcome she still prays for every day. “I pray to God to give me strength, because he is only two years old and I am not a mother,” she told the BBC. “It hurts me so much, because my sister always used to tell me he was like my son, and now it feels like she’s handing him to me, saying ‘this is your son, this is your responsibility.’”

Sarmiento described an unbreakable bond with her 31-year-old sister, saying the pair spoke every day over video call, and Ana Luz never went anywhere without Kleiber at her side. “Wherever she went, her son went too. Whatever Kleiber wanted, she would do everything to give it to him. If she didn’t have the money, she would call me and say Kleiber wanted this or needed that,” Sarmiento recalled. “She was the person I trusted with all my problems, and every time we spoke on video, Kleiber was right there beside her.” Sarmiento says she is certain Ana Luz stayed by her son’s side through the collapse, and still holds out hope that both she and Kleiber’s father Carlos will be pulled from the rubble alive, just like their little boy.

As the nation grapples with the scale of the disaster, official records already put the confirmed death toll at 2,295 — a number that experts warn will climb far higher in the coming days and weeks. Tens of thousands of people remain unaccounted for, and the United Nations has confirmed it is arranging to deliver 10,000 body bags to support the country’s response efforts. Search and rescue operations are continuing across the hardest-hit regions, even as hopes of finding more survivors fade for most.

Delcy Rodríguez, Venezuela’s interim President, has called Kleiber’s rescue “a source of hope for our people” at a time of overwhelming national sorrow. For Sarmiento, that hope remains personal: “Just as they found my nephew, I have faith that they are going to find my sister and my brother-in-law,” she said. Looking down at her playful, recovering nephew, she added that she believes the toddler survived for a reason: “He has a purpose in the world. When this child grows up, God willing, this will be his story.”

MEXICO CITY – At Mexico City’s Benito Juárez International Airport, a 39-year-old man clad head-to-toe in vivid orange gear carefully loads 12 cardboard boxes onto a luggage cart. He is no ordinary passenger, and these boxes hold far more than personal belongings: inside are dozens of body bags, preparation for a grim, life-saving mission to one of the worst natural disasters Venezuela has faced in modern history.

That man is Germán Bello, a volunteer with Brigada Internacional de Rescate Topos Azteca, Mexico’s most celebrated civilian search-and-rescue nonprofit. Born from the rubble of the catastrophic 1985 Mexico City earthquake that killed thousands, the independent organization has built a global reputation for rapid deployment to disaster zones across the world, answering calls no matter the risk.

Nearly a full week has passed since two powerful earthquakes tore through Venezuela’s Caribbean coastline, leaving a trail of death and destruction. By Wednesday, official government reports put the confirmed death toll above 2,200, with more than 11,000 people injured across the hardest-hit region of La Guaira. As rescue teams from around the world continue to comb through the wreckage of collapsed apartment blocks and family homes, the slim window to find trapped survivors is rapidly closing, and the operation has increasingly shifted toward recovery of the deceased.
Bello, an electrical engineer who owns a small auto repair shop, declines to say when he will return to Mexico. Along with standard rescue equipment, he carries the body bags to handle the grim aftermath of the quakes. Within the brigade, he goes by the nickname “La Secre” – short for secretary – as he serves as the close second-in-command to the group’s founder, 80-year-old veteran rescuer Héctor “El Chino” Méndez, who is already on the ground in La Guaira leading search efforts for any remaining survivors. Méndez first cut his teeth in disaster response organizing spontaneous civilian rescue efforts after the 1985 Mexico City quake, and has led Topos missions across six continents for nearly 40 years.

“The hardest part is telling someone that their loved one has died,” Bello shared ahead of his departure, a sentiment that underscores the emotional weight of the work rescuers take on.

For Topos volunteers, emotional discipline is non-negotiable. In a disaster zone, a single lapse in focus can mean the difference between life and death, both for trapped victims and the rescuers themselves. Merry Valencia, a 14-year veteran of the brigade, recited the group’s core code of conduct to explain the mindset: “There is no hunger, no heat, no sleep. There is no fear.”

Once teams arrive on site and assess the structural stability of collapsed buildings, they split into small groups assigned to different sections of the debris field. They crawl through narrow gaps and empty spaces beneath pancaked concrete floors – a dangerous work style that earned the group their name “Topos”, Spanish for moles. To detect signs of life, they rely on thermal imaging cameras, sensitive listening devices, and years of honed instinct. Working with simple tools like shovels and hand hammers, they remove rubble inch by inch, taking extreme care to avoid triggering secondary collapses that could bury anyone still trapped.

One of the group’s most iconic contributions to global search-and-rescue practice is the silence protocol, a technique first developed during the 1985 Mexico City earthquake that is now used by rescue teams worldwide. As a Mexican Army rescuer demonstrated while searching a collapsed La Guaira building Saturday, after announcing the team’s presence and asking any trapped people to make noise, the rescuer raises a clenched fist. The signal spreads instantly across the entire search area: every rescuer, soldier, volunteer and journalist stops talking immediately. For several seconds, the only sound is the wind over the rubble. Rescuers then wait, holding their breath, listening for any sign of life through microphones, pressed against concrete, or scanning with cameras for the faintest movement or tap.

Back at the Mexico City airport, the human cost of the disaster came into sharp focus as Bello prepared to leave. A young Venezuelan engineer living in Mexico, Diego Bejarano, recognized Bello’s gear and approached to ask if he was part of the rescue mission. When Bello confirmed he was heading to the disaster zone where Bejarano’s entire family lives in Caracas, Bejarano broke down in tears.
Bello pulled him into a tight hug, a small moment of connection that he says fuels his years of volunteer work. After Bejarano left, Bello wiped tears from his own eyes and explained what keeps him returning to disaster zones again and again: “That’s my reward. Being able to give someone a little hope.”

CARACAS, VENEZUELA – Seven days after two devastating earthquakes struck the country, Venezuelan medical professionals have warned that untreated injuries and the spread of infectious diseases have emerged as the deadliest immediate threats to thousands of displaced survivors. The June 24 quakes left tens of thousands homeless, forcing survivors to camp in overcrowded emergency shelters or open-air public spaces with limited access to potable water and functional sanitation infrastructure. Aid organizations and medical leaders have characterized the post-disaster situation as a rapidly unfolding public health crisis, warning that failure to scale up emergency medical support could lead to more deaths in the coming weeks than the earthquakes themselves.

Eugenio Cova, who leads the trauma department at Caracas’ public Hospital del Oeste Dr. José Gregor Hernández, explained that the most pressing looming risk is widespread infection among survivors who have spent days exposed to unsanitary conditions after the disaster. His facility has treated dozens of patients with severe, life-altering earthquake-related injuries, even as it grapples with critical shortages of essential medical supplies. Large sections of the hospital are now off-limits due to structural damage from the quakes, and the remaining operational areas lack key supplies including orthopedic surgery screws and plates, as well as antimicrobial gauze designed to prevent post-surgical and wound infections. Across the country, Venezuelan government data confirms that 38 hospitals suffered partial or total damage that has compromised their ability to provide care.

“We have moved past the initial acute phase of treating complex traumatic injuries, though new cases will continue to emerge – and now that response is being compounded by the growing threat of untreated infections,” Cova added.

While the 48 to 72-hour window widely cited as the peak period for rescuing trapped survivors has closed, international search and rescue teams from more than 25 countries have continued their work, defying odds to pull a small number of people alive from collapsed structures. On Tuesday, rescuers recovered a toddler who had been trapped for six days, offering a rare moment of hope amid a widespread humanitarian disaster. Thousands of families, however, remain in agonizing uncertainty waiting for word of missing loved ones.

As of Tuesday, Venezuelan official counts put the confirmed death toll at more than 1,900, a number that continues to climb daily as recovery teams clear rubble. Thousands more people remain unaccounted for. As of Wednesday, a crowd-sourced digital database maintained by local non-governmental organizations registered more than 40,600 missing people, leaving the full final death toll unclear.

The United States, which seized control of Venezuela’s national oil industry earlier this year amid ongoing political tension with the government of Nicolás Maduro, has ramped up its relief contribution in recent days. Steven McCloud, a spokesperson for U.S. Southern Command, confirmed to the Associated Press that 900 U.S. military personnel were deployed to support rescue and relief operations as of Wednesday, with an additional 100 staff from the U.S. State Department sent to support on-the-ground aid distribution.