At a port storage site in La Guaira, turned into a makeshift morgue, families line up to try to confirm the identities of victims of the twin earthquakes that shook Venezuela on June 27.
In the sweltering heat the bodies, wrapped in plastic, lie in long rows. The smell of decomposition presses on those who stand in silent chairs, waiting for a breath of confirmation that their loved ones and still not found among the list of names on the emergency registers.
Medical and forensic teams move through the tented area, photographing each body. Two large screens glow, flicking through thousands of images. A woman flicks her face a soft, tear‑filled look; others lean forward, searching for a tattoo, a scar or a piece of clothing that might prove identity. Successes and failures mingle in one place where the past has befallen dawn on the present.
Families stay outside the tent for hours, watching while uniforms in blue and white stand a few metres away. The gates behind them are locked by armoured personnel. In one corner a 60‑year‑old woman eventually recognises her nephew by the tattoo that sits on his forearm. She declares how the picture saved her from a never‑ending nightmare of guessing.
Even for those who have lost the chance to identify, the situation is dire. Families around them, like Jéssica Soto who waits for her granddaughter’s ashes, are trapped in a cycle that may take days, even weeks, to move from identification to paperwork to removal.
The makeshift morgue, known locally as Los Silos, is a narrow corridor of white and grey tents built to hold bodies and give families the only chance to trace the names of victims on a vast list that has grown by the day.
