The level of destruction in western La Guaira is difficult to assimilate.

Although last Wednesday's earthquake hit the entire coastal state located north of Caracas hard, upon entering the Caraballeda parish the panorama changes abruptly.

As one moves deeper into the area, the devastation becomes denser.

The number of buildings that collapsed in on themselves after the two earthquakes of magnitude 7.2 and 7.5, which occurred within a period of 39 seconds, form entire rows that have been reduced to mountains of concrete and twisted iron.

In some areas of the most affected urbanizations, such as Caribe and Tanaguarena, there are entire sections where debris removal has not yet begun.

Caraballeda used to be one of the most prosperous areas of the state in the 1990s, a lively palm-fringed tourist area with luxury hotels, restaurants, condominiums with pools, a dock full of yachts and even a golf course.

Today it presents a desolate image, closer to that of a war scene than to that of a vacation destination.

That golf course, a vestige of the opulence that marked the area before the 1999 tragedy, has become the epicenter of the emergency.

On its green lawn, which used to be perfectly manicured, today there is a makeshift hospital that cares for people who have been rescued and are seriously injured, in addition to piles of donated clothing and boxes full of humanitarian aid.

In part of the golf course, right next to a small lagoon, a strip of land has been set up as a landing area for helicopters that arrive with supplies and personnel from other states in the country and also from abroad.

Another has been set up as a refuge for hundreds of families who have lost everything.

Milagros González, a resident of the Caribe urbanization, tells BBC Mundo that she lived in a part of the area where most of the buildings collapsed and she had to flee as soon as she could.

Its tower was “one of the few that did not collapse.”

"I left with my two little ones and my two older ladies. Leaving was easy. But thank God [we came out] alive. The building cannot be inhabited. But we are alive, which is the important thing and grateful to God," he says.

"In front there is a building called Hoyo Cinco. There are people boarded up there and they haven't been able to get them out because, with the way the building fell, it's scary that what's left will end up collapsing."

González confesses that every time she goes to bed she wakes up dizzy and thinks she is shaking.

“It turns out that a psychologist told me right now that it is part of the same process,” she adds while her two young daughters play with dolls on a mattress that they have placed on the grass.

The humid heat of this area of ​​the Caribbean, which reaches 30 degrees Celsius daily, becomes suffocating as the hours go by and intensifies the fatigue of those who have been working non-stop since Wednesday.

Added to this is a persistent odor—which some residents describe as “the smell of blood”—mixed with dust, concrete and organic matter, which permeates the environment and requires masks to be worn.

The streets are also full of Venezuelans with lost looks, tense gestures and a sadness that is perceived even before listening to their stories.

The Minister of the Interior of Venezuela, Diosdado Cabello, assured that Caraballeda is one of the places most affected by the earthquakes that, as of this Sunday morning, had left at least 1,430 dead and thousands of victims.

The magnitude of the tragedy goes beyond those figures. Thousands of people remain trapped under the rubble in La Guaira and other areas of the country. The UN estimates that there are around 50,000 missing people, this is particularly evident in Caraballeda.

In recent days, international rescue teams have arrived from Mexico, Spain, Qatar, the United States and the United Kingdom to reinforce the search efforts.

However, on the ground the number of collapsed structures that have not yet been intervened reflects that international aid has not been enough.

A firefighter who works in the area, and who asked not to be identified, pointed out that there are dozens of buildings where not a single stone has been removed. “There are not enough hands,” he said. “And it is very, very likely that there are still people trapped.”

Faced with this desperate situation, the reaction of civil society has been decisive. Neighbors and volunteers, both from La Guaira and other parts of the country, have mobilized to assist those affected.

Some distribute food and water; others organize supplies or collaborate in search tasks with available resources, sometimes even with their own hands.

In the midst of the emergency, this improvised support network has become a key support for those who continue to hope to find their missing relatives.

Jesús Andueza, a 64-year-old bus driver from Caraballeda, was taking a nap when the first tremor began.

"It was horrible. Thank God. The house didn't fall, but it danced," he says, sitting on the grass.

Although his family is safe, he says the psychological impact has been hard.

"To tell you the truth, you're kind of nervous. Any little noise... horrible."

Today, like many other people, he will sleep on the Caracabella golf course, because he is afraid to return home.

"My feet hurt, my feet are swollen and I came to get some diapers for the girl. It's better to stay here."