The Fire

I.

A Chinese, an Australian, and a Spaniard walk into a Ball Room.

Each are the front-line managers for emergency and disaster response in a very populated, rather poor province of China. Every year, these managers are responsible for the organization of medical, disaster, and emergency response planners for an annual conference. It is always a joyful and convivial time filled with card swapping, networking, name dropping.

The Australian says to the Spaniard, “Did you know that in in our office of Regional and Provincial Emergency Response they have never had a fire drill? So, I asked them to look into having one; but, when we checked on the emergency exits they were all chained shut.”

The Spaniard stated, “We teach all about disaster preparation and response. We ask the community to participate and be involved in ways they have never been asked to do before in all of China. But, we can’t apply the same teaching in our own office.”

“Why is that?” the Australian asked. “The boss doesn’t like it for us to look bad.” the Spaniard replied.

The Chinese, who was listening closely, suggested they test participants and teach values of applied learning to bosses during their meeting. “Why don’t we have a fire drill here, at this very conference?“ he said.

The three NGO disaster experts made their plan.

II.

After lunch, when the many conference attendees reconvened, they passed their Spanish colleague, with his leg propped up on a chair. A Chinese friend was tending to his ankle, while the Spaniard grimaced in obvious pain. The Australian explained to the ogling crowds, “During lunch he was in an accident while crossing the street outside of the restaurant.” The Spaniard moaned; tears rolled down his face. Many people stopped by to sympathize and give advice.

After the conference-goers settled down in their big groups, a lazy, spacey wave of sleepiness blanketed the conference; people were tired. This was the third day of meetings and in good Chinese fashion, they had all feasted at a lunch hosted by the provincial governor. To address the predicted lethargy on day three, a local troupe of performers were scheduled to liven up the crowd with songs of legends and stories of the great resilience of the Chinese people in modern history. In contrast to the standard procedure of returning to their individual groups, the attendees were instructed to all meet in the same room for the performance, leaving their valises, purses, and other belongings at a coat check, so as to accommodate the large number of people.

Halfway through the second ballad a loud bell erupted with a sudden, screeching resonance. The hotel manager rushed into the room and yelled instructions through a megaphone: “There is a fire in the kitchen. Please remain calm, but exit the building immediately.”

Instincts were strong; people leapt over each other as they rushed from the room. Some groups stopped at the elevator. A hotel staff standing near the stairway yelled to them, “Don’t take the elevators, they are unsafe, you must use the stairs!”

Outside the group milled around in the street. Everyone seemed to be accounted for. A small older gentleman exclaimed with panic and shame in his voice, “Ricardo, our Spanish friend, where is he?” Several people tried to backtrack into the building. “You cannot go back,” the staff warned them. The crowd of brave souls rushed anyway.

At the bottom of the stairs was Ricardo, standing strong on his own two legs. “I am sorry to have fooled you,” he said.

III.

The fire was a drill, designed to test the responses of the conference attendees, all who were trained in disaster protocol, and who were responsible for passing their knowledge and education on to others.

At the end of the conference people were asked to review what they had learned, and fill out a survey. Overwhelmingly, most participants were compelled to write about the fire drill lesson. Most participants wrote about the lessons learned. They planned to change their teaching strategy in the future, and felt that real world practice would be a benefit not only to the community but to their team as well. Others were angry, and left feedback that stated that “It was wrong of you to trick us. Somebody could have been hurt. How could you trust the hotel staffs with our valises our laptops and all of our work could have been stolen!”

Some were shaken, some were embarrassed, some were grateful, and all (except the Chinese, the Australian, the Spaniard, and the hotel staff) were surprised.

IV.

China is a world of both lessons and contradictions. It can respond to disaster with massive force and mobility from across the country to provide aid. It can rebuild whole regions in almost the blink of an eye. But due to a hierarchical pyramid structures of decision making and policy development, China is unable to challenge assumptions of management. When the Chinese colleagues in the Provincial office wanted to apply the same standards to their office as they have begun to teach in small impoverished villages they were told that the systems they have work fine. Can we find similar qualities in our organizations?

Today, I visited a very different Disaster and Emergency Response Unit in Trat, Thailand. It is located in the most revered and trusted public meeting place in the town - a ‘Chinese Temple.’ They meet on the 20th of every month. The place is filled with all the necessary tools: historical photos and community archives of past emergencies, ambulances and rescue equipment, chairs and tables for everyday life and gatherings, and a stage for speakers and performance. Some of the meetings go on for hours, allowing time for food or refreshment, play-space for children, and time for elders to gossip, in addition to discussion of disaster planning and response.

Although sometimes just a drill, oftentimes the fire is real. How can we imagine ways in which community participation, especially in disaster planning, is encouraged in decision making, cultural resilience is nourished, and systems are scientific and responsive?