This post is part of a series called Miyamoto in Haiti I step into a dark, small bedroom. I hear my partner’s feet behind me. The room’s windows and doors are covered by thick drapes, hindering any light from entering the room. The bare concrete floor is wet, but the heat is edging towards unbearable. I feel it on my skin. The temperature must be somewhere close to 100 degrees (40 in Celsius), if not exactly, with 90% tropical humidity. Sweat runs down my back, drenching my shirt. Burning charcoal lingers in the air with an undertone of old sweat.…

This post is part of a series called Miyamoto in Myanmar YANGON, Myanmar–We are driving up to a destroyed water pipeline on a bumpy, 200-year-old, British-made highway. I am in the middle of the Myanmar jungle. It is about 40°C (104°F). It’s dusty, and it’s hot. It’s still the dry season here, and both sides of the highway are lined with low-lying bushes, palm trees and occasional villages with a golden pagoda. The people are friendly and quick to smile. Our team is part of a government mission to investigate an earthquake-damaged water supply chain. A municipal engineer informed us…

This post is part of a series called 2016 Ecuador Earthquake Journals PORTOVIEJO, Ecuador–I awake to pounding on the thin wooden door of my jungle hotel room. It’s 7:02 a.m. As I groggily open the door, I’m met by a slender woman in a gray dress standing outside. Her hair is wet. “The mayor is waiting for you. You have to see him at 8 o’clock,” she says, in a mix of English and Spanish. “Levántate!” calls out my roommate, Juan. We had no prior contact with the mayor of Portoviejo, one of the worst damaged cities in Ecuador, but…

This post is part of a series called 2016 Ecuador Earthquake Journals QUITO, Ecuador–It’s 11:12 a.m., as we fly into the capital of Ecuador, the high mountain scene opens up below. Wispy clouds drift over patches of vivid green fields. My eyes are tired from the 10-hours “red eye” flight from San Francisco, but the beauty of the Cordillera de los Andes mountains is undeniable. They remind me of ragged mountain ranges that I’ve seen many times before. This is earthquake country. We step into a new, modern airport; clean but not too busy. The people look Spanish with Inca…

This post is part of a series called 2015 Nepal Earthquake Journals Guest Blog by Sabine Kast KATHMANDU, Nepal–It’s 1AM. Dogs are barking outside. I am super tired. Four weeks ago, in the wee hours of a Haitian Saturday morning while I was fending off insects and obsessively trying to get through the last pages of my book, an earthquake struck Nepal. My phone lit up with the news, and a ping notified me of an email, which read: “This is a big one. Are you ready?” It was from Kit. Ten days later, I was one-way flight to Kathmandu.…

This post is part of a series called 2015 Nepal Earthquake Journals KATHMANDU, Nepal–We are driving fast through burning roadblocks. People are upset and demonstrating.  Food and water has not reached this remote part of country yet. It is one of the least developed districts in Nepal. When one of the roadblocks forces us to stop, one of protesters approaches me to apologize. “I am so sorry to stop the traffic. But we are making a statement to the government. We need food, water and tents as soon as possible.”  Then he invited me to his camp, to share his…