Jan 17, 2011
As I write, the death toll has reached 641 from the floods and landslides that wiped out much of Brazil's Serrana region of Rio de Janeiro state. Of those, 271 are from Teresopolis, where I have been since Wednesday night of last week.
It's easy - too easy - to get caught up in the phrase "death toll", like it's some abstract numbering of an algorithm. It's not. And I was reminded when I visited the cemetery in Teresopolis. It's been turned into something more like a mass grave.
When we arrived, it was raining, and gravediggers could not dig the holes fast enough to put in coffins. They were literally using a backhoe to dig holes as quickly as possible.
There was no time to put in proper gravestones with the names of the dead. So a lone cemetery worker would write the name on a log, and then when the coffin was dropped in the grave, covered with dirt a wooden cross with a number would be stuck in the ground.
This is what it has come down to in Teresopolis.
The once charming and peaceful hilltop cemetery overlooking lush green mountain hillsides has grown so overcrowded that a judge signed a decree saying old gravesites can be unearthed to make space for the incoming dead.
The cemetery in Teresopolis, Brazil: It was a scene I will never, ever, forget.
My report here:
Join Us: News for people demanding a better world
Common Dreams is powered by optimists who believe in the power of informed and engaged citizens to ignite and enact change to make the world a better place. We're hundreds of thousands strong, but every single supporter makes the difference. Your contribution supports this bold media model—free, independent, and dedicated to reporting the facts every day. Stand with us in the fight for economic equality, social justice, human rights, and a more sustainable future. As a people-powered nonprofit news outlet, we cover the issues the corporate media never will. Join with us today! |
Our work is licensed under Creative Commons (CC BY-NC-ND 3.0). Feel free to republish and share widely.
As I write, the death toll has reached 641 from the floods and landslides that wiped out much of Brazil's Serrana region of Rio de Janeiro state. Of those, 271 are from Teresopolis, where I have been since Wednesday night of last week.
It's easy - too easy - to get caught up in the phrase "death toll", like it's some abstract numbering of an algorithm. It's not. And I was reminded when I visited the cemetery in Teresopolis. It's been turned into something more like a mass grave.
When we arrived, it was raining, and gravediggers could not dig the holes fast enough to put in coffins. They were literally using a backhoe to dig holes as quickly as possible.
There was no time to put in proper gravestones with the names of the dead. So a lone cemetery worker would write the name on a log, and then when the coffin was dropped in the grave, covered with dirt a wooden cross with a number would be stuck in the ground.
This is what it has come down to in Teresopolis.
The once charming and peaceful hilltop cemetery overlooking lush green mountain hillsides has grown so overcrowded that a judge signed a decree saying old gravesites can be unearthed to make space for the incoming dead.
The cemetery in Teresopolis, Brazil: It was a scene I will never, ever, forget.
My report here:
As I write, the death toll has reached 641 from the floods and landslides that wiped out much of Brazil's Serrana region of Rio de Janeiro state. Of those, 271 are from Teresopolis, where I have been since Wednesday night of last week.
It's easy - too easy - to get caught up in the phrase "death toll", like it's some abstract numbering of an algorithm. It's not. And I was reminded when I visited the cemetery in Teresopolis. It's been turned into something more like a mass grave.
When we arrived, it was raining, and gravediggers could not dig the holes fast enough to put in coffins. They were literally using a backhoe to dig holes as quickly as possible.
There was no time to put in proper gravestones with the names of the dead. So a lone cemetery worker would write the name on a log, and then when the coffin was dropped in the grave, covered with dirt a wooden cross with a number would be stuck in the ground.
This is what it has come down to in Teresopolis.
The once charming and peaceful hilltop cemetery overlooking lush green mountain hillsides has grown so overcrowded that a judge signed a decree saying old gravesites can be unearthed to make space for the incoming dead.
The cemetery in Teresopolis, Brazil: It was a scene I will never, ever, forget.
My report here:
We've had enough. The 1% own and operate the corporate media. They are doing everything they can to defend the status quo, squash dissent and protect the wealthy and the powerful. The Common Dreams media model is different. We cover the news that matters to the 99%. Our mission? To inform. To inspire. To ignite change for the common good. How? Nonprofit. Independent. Reader-supported. Free to read. Free to republish. Free to share. With no advertising. No paywalls. No selling of your data. Thousands of small donations fund our newsroom and allow us to continue publishing. Can you chip in? We can't do it without you. Thank you.