Workers Promised More Time to Find Survivors : Rescue Efforts Hampered by Egos, Languages

The clash of egos, the confusion of decision-making, the language differences among the rescue teams all seemed to militate Wednesday against more miracles at Benito Juarez Hospital, a horribly ruined victim of Mexico City’s earthquakes.

But at dusk, a little metal basket carrying a days-old baby was gingerly passed from rough hand to rough hand and on to a waiting team of doctors.

Two more babies, already in rescuers’ hands, were on their way out of the debris--a triumph of some sort of natural stamina over human frailties magnified by this disaster.

The rescue efforts in Mexico City, a sometimes astonishing series of successes, are also beset by conflicts and cross-purposes.

Holding Out for Time

Rescue teams, both foreign and Mexican, are holding out for time to retrieve survivors from debris. But some Mexican officials have ordered crews to begin knocking away debris using heavy equipment.

At Juarez Hospital, American and French rescue workers said they talked government officials out of demolition on Tuesday.

One crew, from the Dade County, Fla., Fire Department walked off the job because wreckers from the government-owned oil company started pulling rubble haphazardly away from the building.

Mexican officials have said that saving lives is a priority and denied that they were ready to remove any damaged or destroyed buildings. Nonetheless, bulldozers and wrecking balls were busy in certain areas.

Given Two More Days

In negotiations with Mexican officials, the rescue workers said they were given at least two more days to find survivors among the ruins of the downtown hospital.

“The Mexican wrecking crew started working while our people were rescuing,” said Douglas Jewett, a rescue trainer from the Dade Fire Department. “We pulled our people out until they stopped.”

A companion, David Valdez, added that the same thing happened two days ago.

On Wednesday, six days after a massive earthquake struck this crowded city of 18 million, the faint groans and desperate tapping of buried victims still issued from fissures in some of the hundreds of compacted hotels, apartment buildings, schools and hospitals.

In one case, a team of specially trained dogs barked loudly from inside the burned and twisted remains of the Hotel Regis. It was a strong indication that yet another survivor had been discovered in a badly demolished building.

But the complications of so many crews from so any places made smooth rescues difficult.

At the Juarez Hospital, an American rescuer called down for a pickax. A co-worker ran to a French volunteer asking for one.

The Frenchman spoke no English and the American no French. What followed was a long and serious conversation by hand signals as precious minutes passed.

Later, two medics carrying a baby-sized stretcher tried to pass a police cordon. A burly Mexican army major kept sending them back. It took three attempts before the military man let them pass.

Adding to the frustration of some foreign rescue workers, many structures, including the Hotel Regis, had been fumigated to kill disease-causing bacteria, insects and rats--possibly further injuring buried but still-breathing victims.

Mexican officials said the chemicals used to fumigate the buildings were harmless and emphatically denied that they were preparing to move in with heavy equipment.

“I’ve heard these rumors--they don’t know what they are talking about,” said Capt. Lopez Cassanova, a rescue-squad coordinator at Juarez Hospital. “We are under orders to find the living.”

Nonetheless, in some places, even Mexican doctors stood helplessly by as heavily damaged hotels were being dismantled.

“Who can say there is nobody left alive inside?” asked Dr. David Avalos Davalos, who watched as the top floor of the 60-unit Hotel Finisterre was being bashed by a wrecking ball.

More Searching Urged

“As a doctor, I would like to see more searching,” said Davalos at the hotel, located in the Taxquena neighborhood on the south side of the city. “We’ve taken people out of buildings in worse shape than this.”

“If there were a way to check for more survivors, we would,” said engineer Eduardo Rojas, who supervised the demolition activities at the Finisterre.

“The Italians were here with their dogs and didn’t find anything,” he added. “It’s possible that there are survivors, but we have certain technical problems here. As you can see, the floors of this building are plastered together.”

Said Davalos, shaking his head, “I’m not mad, just resigned to the situation.”

Some foreign rescue workers, however, have refused to give ground to the Mexican officials.

‘Just Too Dangerous’

“Several Mexican engineers said we should stop looking,” said Lt. Bernard Gosselin, spokesman for the French Marine Fire Department contingent from Marseilles.

“If we know there are people still alive in there, I believe we should get them out,” he said. “They think they can move in with bulldozers--but it’s just too dangerous.”

“They (Mexican officials) want to get things cleaned up and get back to business,” said Valdez. “We say not yet, and everyone else agrees.”

The early evening events at Juarez Hospital seemed to bear out his argument.

As the baby was carried in the basket, its tiny hand popped out from beneath a blue blanket. A gasp came from the crowd of reporters and workers looking on.

The rescuers grew impatient.

“Let’s get the other kids out,” said Florida fireman Jewett. “Our people up top hear a woman. We’ve got other survivors inside.”