I arrived in Jiegu at 3am on April 17 after a bumpy 15-hour drive from Xining, at times stuck in traffic despite the late hour because of the heavy flow of trucks carrying relief goods.
As dawn broke, the town quickly became a hectic assembly of vehicles, crimson-robed monks, rescue workers in orange jumpers, soldiers in green uniforms, quake survivors looking for food, water, and tents - as well as stray dogs, goats and even cows. The scene was bathed in a yellow hue; , spring in this region means strong winds, and the whipping up of loose earth that layers the town in a dust cloud was made worse by the earthquake that had struck three days earlier.
Ferocious Tibetan mastiffs jumping out from nowhere, unreliable internet and mobile phone signals, and the lack of hot water and sanitation were just some of the challenges facing outsiders like myself, as well as locals. Altitude sickness was a problem for many too.
I had reported on the Sichuan earthquake in 2008, but this disaster was quite different.
To start with the mood in Jiegu was not the same. The sadness and sense of loss in Sichuan had been overwhelming: parents wailing, the unforgiving rain, blood draining from the rows of children's bodies. But here the sadness was more subdued, the mood more calm. The bodies, once they were pulled out of the rubble, were mostly wrapped head to toe in blankets once monks had offered a quick prayer. There were fewer emotional scenes, and more a sense of sorrow hanging in the air.
Tibetan Buddhist monks were everywhere, digging for bodies, praying, distributing relief goods.