Boring and dirty: life in China quake refugee camp

By Emma Graham-Harrison

DUJIANGYAN, China, May 15 (Reuters) - Travel agent Zou Lin mops the floor outside her tent as a neighbour washes her hair in the small pond nearby, both desperate to reclaim some cleanliness and order from the wreckage of the town that was their home.

"Its not a bad view. We have mountains and water," Zou said, gesturing at the murky pond and small rockery behind it, with the gentle humour that seems to be sustaining many of the refugees from China's deadliest earthquake in decades.

The death toll climbed to nearly 15,000, and tens of thousands of troops, firefighters and civilians are racing to save more than 25,000 people buried under collapsed schools, factories and hospitals after Monday's 7.9 magnitude quake.

The streets of Dujiangyan, one of the worst-hit towns, are lined with villages of tents and makeshift shelters that survivors fled to after the quake.

Although many escaped unhurt and with their families intact, their world has been destroyed, and they can do nothing but wait for others to put it back together.

"In one minute the city we know flew away. I never dreamt it could happen," said kindergarten teacher He Lixia.

"But I am optimistic the government won't forget us and the people of the world will help rescue us," she added.

Most spent the first hours scrambling to find family and friends, and then hunting down food and clean drinking water. But now, with jobs and schools suspended, the survivors are feeling the lack of both water and things to fill their time.

"It's really very boring, we just sit here in the square with nothing to do," said travel agent Zou, playing with her two young dogs and chatting with her new 4-year-old neighbour Yezi as she might have done on a lazy Sunday afternoon in her old life.

Night is lit by the flicker of cooking fires as families make dinner with wood salvaged from their former homes.

Sleep is hard as ambulances and fire engines wail down eerie streets of dark, crumpled buildings at all hours, and soldiers arrive in a steady stream to bolster rescue efforts that continue around the clock.

DREAMING OF A WASH

Damaged homes, pouring rain and no piped water mean most people have been wearing the same clothes for over 48 hours.

"We haven't washed our faces for three days. We haven't even brushed our teeth. Any water we have is for drinking," said Liu Li, a farmer staying in the tent city as she hunts for a nephew.

Apart from dreaming of a wash, survivors also worry that the thousands of people living on the streets, combined with rotting corpses in trapped buildings, could breed an epidemic.

For some survivors, though, even life in tent cities would be an upgrade from the only lodgings they have secured.

"We need small tents. My family has been sleeping squashed 7 in a car," said 65-year-old Zhang Zhuoyi, twisting his body to show how he squeezes into his only refuge from wind and rain.

Even people with massive savings are temporarily impoverished because the quake knocked out the town's cash dispensers.

"We didn't have much money on us when the quake hit, so we can only spend a little at a time," said teacher He.

Haunting the tents are reminders of tragedies their inhabitants escaped by sheer luck.

"My father and mother are dead. My son was crushed under his school. My wife's office has collapsed and her phone is not working," said a dazed man wandering outside one encampment. (Editing by Ken Wills and John Chalmers)