NAUSEOUS fumes still drift over the devastated site of last month's Shenzhen disaster. Blackened buildings with gaping, blown out windows stare vacantly at the dereliction. Vehicles lie broken and mangled where they were first hit by the blasts, their tyres burnt off and their frames rusting over. A whole warehouse of garlic rots in the sun, unprotected by the charred remains of the roof. Shattered crockery from the storeroom next door litters the dusty roads. Small pockets of workers labour listlessly, trying to bring order to the chaos. Seven weeks after the blast, little appears to have been done to restore the industrial complex to its previous levels of high activity. Rubble is strewn everywhere. Lorries arrive and depart, churning up the dust. But, instead of carrying goods, most carry wreckage. It is like a war zone after the last and most murderous assault. Walking through the debris, it is hard to imagine this was once a thriving zone, bustling with business. Pitted, blasted, burnt and ruined, it is more a testimony to failed enterprise.
