Romania at risk in big quake

Authorities concede that not enough has been done to reinforce old buildings or inform the public

A sign on this building in Bucharest indicates risk of collapse in the case of an earthquake in an April 21 photograph. If a quake with a magnitude of 7 or higher were to strike, 6,500 people could die and 1,900 buildings could collapse, warn experts.

By Alison Mutler - The Associated Press

BUCHAREST – Gabriel Serbanescu was enjoying a quiet evening at home when his Bucharest apartment suddenly began to shake.

“The furniture creaked, and then everything started to move like we were on a mattress in the water,” the retired legal expert said after a 5.3-magnitude earthquake rocked much of central and eastern Romania in late April.

Nobody died, but Romanians were left more than a little rattled.

They’ve known killer quakes before, including a 1977 temblor that killed more than 1,500 people. And the moderate quake of April 25 – combined with the deadly convulsion in Italy earlier this month – have many wondering if they’re ready for another big one.

Even the authorities readily acknowledge the answer is no.

Romania, Greece and Italy – where 296 were killed by an April 6 quake – are among Europe’s most “disaster-prone countries” in the event of a major quake, the UN International Strategy for Disaster Reduction warns in a new report.

In Romania, thousands of lives and properties hang in the balance as officials scramble to improve the Eastern European nation’s earthquake readiness plans. If a quake with a magnitude of 7 or higher were to strike, 6,500 people could die and 1,900 buildings could collapse, warns the National Institute for Research and Development in the Construction and Economy of Buildings.

In Bucharest alone, 392 buildings are considered to be at risk of collapsing in the event of a serious quake, with half of those built before 1940, and some 2,000 need to be reinforced in the next 10 years, City Hall says.

Bucharest Mayor Sorin Oprescu this week appealed to authorities to speed up reinforcement work on buildings considered at risk in the capital, and make the most of a downturn in the real estate market.

“The real estate crisis is doing some good,” Oprescu said. Construction contractors “have little work, so they are willing to take on this kind of building work.” Underscoring how little progress has been made, the mayor says only a dozen buildings have been reinforced in recent years in the city of 2 million, and work currently is under way on just four others.

Romania, which shook off communism in 1989, is one of the poorest nations in the European Union and can’t afford a large-scale construction upgrade. After the 1977 quake, the late dictator Nicolae Ceausescu launched a program to upgrade old buildings and introduced tougher engineering guidelines for new ones. But funds quickly ran out and builders became apathetic.

But the problem isn’t just bricks and mortar. Officials concede that few Romanians know how to respond.

“The problem is with the population. There has not been yet a national campaign to inform people about what they should do,” said Alin Maghiar, spokesman for the Inspectorate for Emergency Situations. “We don’t have enough prevention inspectors... to discuss things with students and citizens.”

Britain’s ambassador to Romania, Robin Barnett, offered to help raise public awareness in schools and the business community as an efficient and affordable way for Romania to lessen risks in the event of a major earthquake.

“We plan to encourage central and local authorities here in Bucharest to promote greater public awareness of the important measures and will be very happy to work with them to spread the message,” he said.

Romania has been struck twice by major quakes in the past 70 years.

One, in 1940, killed some 1,000 people. The other, in March 1977, was a magnitude-7.2 temblor that killed 1,570 people, injured 11,000 and inflicted so much damage on Bucharest it looked as though it had been blitzed by bombs.

Since then, even relatively minor quakes can trigger trauma or terror in people over 35.

That was clear on April 25, when a moderate quake centered in the Vrancea region, about 75 miles (120 kilometers) northeast of Bucharest, struck as people ate dinner or watched television.

No deaths were reported, but 10 mostly elderly people were hospitalized with chest pains, and the quake cracked walls and tiles in some homes.

Eugen Georgescu, a Bucharest architect who survived the 1977 quake, vividly recalls dragging the bodies of dead children from the rubble and helping to save the lives of others.

“The problem is our impotence faced with a quake,” he said. “People should be convinced that dangerous buildings must be demolished – because people will die from negligence.” But George Sotiroulis, whose luxury chocolate boutique on the capital’s bustling Calea Victoriei boulevard is next to one of the city’s buildings deemed at high risk of a quake-induced collapse, is fatalistic.

“If we die, we die,” Sotiroulis said with a shrug, and then paused to reconsider.

“We should be better prepared,” he said. “But nobody does anything. In Romania, it’s just blah blah.”