Viewed from afar, what used to be high-rise buildings now looked jagged as the city looked out of place. Chunks of river banks fell into the water, while troops sealed off damaged bridges.
Hoardings had been driven into the ground and signs scattered among the rubble were reminders of the shops that used to fill the busy streets.
“Our streets used to be heaven,” said Ay. “In one night, everything was destroyed.”
Ay was taking refuge with his wife, Fatmeh, and their daughter in one of the camps that were set up to provide temporary shelter to people who had lost their homes. A generator roars to the chirping of people gathered around a wood stove outside their tent.
“We can’t leave the camp,” he said. “It’s hard to move around because it’s dangerous wherever you go. Buildings are dangerous. Before you know it, a structure can collapse on you.”
Earlier, as the sun set on a square next to City Hall, soldiers, volunteers and survivors lined up at food trucks and service stations for dinner and tea.
On one of the roundabouts, a statue of Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, the founder of modern Turkey, stood on a horse. Just below it, a marble plaque with his famous quote when Hatay Province became part of Turkey lay scattered on the ground.
