Real Survival Stories - Earthquake in China: Out of the Darkness

Episode Date: May 6, 2026

Maayan Sebbag is living and studying in Chengdu, China. One day, on a trip to a remote nature reserve, disaster strikes. Passing through a village nestled in the mountains, Maayan and her friend suddenly find themselves at the epicentre of a terrible natural disaster - a magnitude 8 earthquake that will go down as one of the deadliest in human history. Trapped in the pitch black, buried alive, Maayan will fight to free herself from this living tomb. But escaping burial will prove just the beginning… A Noiser podcast production. Hosted by John Hopkins. Written by Rhys Bevan | Produced by Ed Baranski | Assistant Producer: Luke Lonergan | Exec produced by Joel Duddell | Sound Supervisor: Matt Peaty | Sound design by Jacob Booth | Assembly edit by Rob Plummer | Compositions by Oliver Baines, Dorry Macaulay, Tom Pink | Mix & mastering: Ralph Tittley. For ad-free listening, bonus material and early access to new episodes, join Noiser+. Click the subscription banner at the top of the feed to get started. Or go to noiser.com/subscriptions If you have an amazing survival story of your own that you’d like to put forward for the show, let us know. Drop us an email at [e-mail] Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

It is Monday, May the 12th, 2008. Around 2.30 in the afternoon. In the mountains of the Sichuan province of China, about an hour and a half's drive from the city of Chengdu, the sky is threatening rain. Dark clouds build to a smudgy, low canopy. The atmosphere is thick and heavy. A storm is brewing.

Beneath the gathering gloom, a rural village stands amongst the vastness of nature. on any normal day this small settlement in Wanchuan County has a steady, peaceful rhythm. The ambient rush of its central river underscores the songs of a thousand tropical birds from the core core of the golden pheasant to the intricate trilling of the Chinese ruby throat.

Over this calming orchestra, the sounds of village life serve as grace notes, mere additions to the glorious wilderness. It's a place surrounded on on all sides by emerald mountains nestled in plant life at ease with itself. Today, however, the scene could not be more different, and not just because of the ominous clouds overhead. The village lies in ruins. Roads ripped open, power lines twisted and torn, the earth itself ruptured under buildings reduced to rubble. And underneath that rubble, lying trapped,

crushed under a mountain of concrete brick and splintered wood, his 27-year-old Mayan Sebarg. When I woke up, I was in a very dark place because all of the roof, like felon us, and I was buried under the wreckage, and I was not sure if I'm dreaming. It's impossible to say how long she's been buried, minutes, hours. Whatever the case, Mayan's situation is the stuff of nightnress. Crushed and suffocating, her head is pounding. She's being squeezed by the detritus, blackness and pain gripping her on all sides.

She tries desperately to attract the attention of anyone who might be able to help. She goes to call out, but horrifyingly, her mouth isn't making any sound. My voice was mute. So I pulled my hand and I want to understand what is going on And then I couldn't understand what I'm feeling. It's not my face.

You know your face. You close your eyes, you touch your face. You know how to feel your face. And it was not my face. It was something else. And I realized I don't have a mouth anymore. My mouth was not there. Ever wondered what you would do when disaster strikes.

If your life depended on your next decision, could you make the right choice? Welcome to real survival stories. These are the astonishing tales of ordinary people thrown into extraordinary situations. People suddenly forced to fight for their lives. In this episode, we meet Mayan Sabak. In 2008, the 27-year-old is studying traditional Chinese medicine in Chengdu, when her friend suggests they get out of the city to take in some nature.

Mayan readily agrees. She wants to make the most of the time she has left in China, only three more days before she heads home. the flight's booked. We have tickets already, you know. I have the tickets in my hand. And who would know that I will never use those tickets? Mayan will not board the flight.

Because she and her friend Anat are about to walk into the epicenter of a terrible natural disaster, a magnitude 8 earthquake that will go down as one of the deadliest in human history. And I could hear the thoughts like crystal clear. I heard the voices say, You will never get out of here. You are going to die in this grave, buried. Even as she fights to free herself from this living tomb,

Mayan's journey will not end there. Above her, on the surface, the situation is worse than she could ever imagine. Escaping burial is just the beginning. I'm John Hopkins from the Noyser Podcast Network. This is Real Survival Stories. It's lunchtime. May the 12th, 2008. My aunt Sabag and her friend Annat have just arrived at a picturesque restaurant overlooking a river that winds through lush green mountains.

A waiter greets them and shows them to their table. They want to order quickly, their stomachs are rumbling. The bus ride to this village, in the foothills of Wanchuan County's mountainous nature reserve, took long than expected, and they haven't eaten today. Their table has spectacular views, but they only have eyes for the menu. They place their order and sit back in pleasant expectation, taking in the hum of the river and the chattering animal calls drifting in from the forest. This traditional fish restaurant comes highly recommended, but they haven't traveled to this region for the food.

They have bigger fish to fry, so to speak. And we said, okay, we are in China and we never go out from the city to see like the countryside. And my friend, Anach, she got the idea that we will go to see the Pandar Resort. and I loved it. I love pandas. The journey here from the city of Chengdu was eventful to say the least. First, their driver fell ill, then the bus got a flat tire. What should have been an hour and a half's journey ended up taking four. On the way, Mayen told Annette this was giving her a bad feeling.

That drive took us so long. I felt like something trying to stop me. Something is telling me, don't go there. And that was more sanguine. You take the rough with a smooth when traveling, especially in rural areas. It was just a bump in the road. We decided to ignore it.

And sometimes I'm thinking, what if I wouldn't ignore that moments, you know, those signs, like universe signs. The universe sending me signs. And we got there. And even when we went out of the bus, we felt this weird energy in the air. The pair decided on a change of plan.

They're not going to stay the night. Instead, they'll go straight to the panda reserve from the restaurant and then head home. Now, sitting across from each other, with mouth-watering smells floating in from the kitchen, the two women try to relax. An aunt kicks off her shoes. But something still feels off. The birds were screaming the birds, you know? And it was very gray like a storm coming.

Mayan looks around at her fellow diners, the busy waiters, the steaming plates of food. No one else seems worried. But Mayan has always been uncommonly attuned to her surroundings. Her intuition, curiosity and affinity with nature are what attracted her to China's ancient healing practices in the first place. That and a refusal to take her problems lying down. Plagued with a myriad of medical issues from a young age, she was forced to explore a variety of avenues. I had a lot of health challenges, and I found that the Chinese medicine helped me more than

the regular conventional medicine, and I wanted to go and study it. Mayan trained for four years at home in Israel before flying to China to complete her studies. An open-minded explorer, as comfortable discussing spirituality as she was botany or biology, the holistic nature of traditional Chinese medicine suited her down to the ground. I'm a person that like to research and to like to understand the truth and to see the deeper layers of reality, of life, of consciousness. I was 27 years old going to China and I was a very adventurous person. I was also being in India and I visit Seychelles Islands and Europe. I'm a traveler, you know, I'm an adventure person that like to travel, like to see sight, like to see other people.

places, to open my mind to other cultures. While there's disagreement in the wider medical community about the effectiveness of many traditional Chinese practices, acupuncture is one technique that has become part of mainstream treatments for pain relief. As such, Mayan plans to open her own acupuncture clinic one day. With her positivity and drive, few would bet against her. According to traditional Chinese medicine, the Maiyan's medicine, the Maiyanian. body and spirit are interconnected and require careful calibration to maintain good health. It's all about balance.

And at 27 years old, Mayan appears to have found this balance. Having gone some way to healing herself, she is now looking to the future and how to provide for others. We need to help each other. I see the word as a big school of consciousness and emotions. So I feel like I'm here to help. Back in the restaurant, Mayan's phone rings. She answers and stands, searching for a quieter spot. It's another friend asking where she and Annette are.

Mayan explains and invites the friend down to join them. Despite the gloomy weather, this is still shaping up to be an enjoyable day in a beautiful pocket of the world. Mayan hangs up and starts making her way back to the table to tell Anat the news. But as she approaches, something stops her in. her tracks. I hang up and I was about to sit in my chair and I saw a knot eyes like open, very horrific, you know. She stared at me and I felt the ground shaking and in the beginning I didn't really understand what am I feeling like what is it? And then I realized it's an earthquake.

It's unmistakable. The violent tremors, the furniture bouncing and toppling over. It's can only be one thing. Suddenly people are running in all directions, streaming out of the restaurant as quickly as they can. But it isn't easy. Me and a night, it took us few seconds that were crucial, I know now. I needed to pull her up in order that we will run out of the restaurant and we couldn't do it. The earthquake was so, so strong. Everything was dancing, everything was moving. The earth beneath their feet kicks and bucks like an enraged animal try to shake them off. Anat can't stand up and Mayan barely able to balance herself is finding it impossible to help her. She just can't pull her friend up from her chair and it's costing them vital seconds.

Eyes darting, Mayan looks over to the doorway. It's not far. She could make it. But she'd have to leave Annette. I was close to the exit and I saw the stairs like moving away from me like breaking in front of my eyes and I had this moment that I need to choose

between staying with a knot or jumping out and I chose to stay with a nut man turns her head from the exit and back towards her friend still struggling to stand when something hard and heavy slams into her from above. The roof of this restaurant just fell on me

and my head pressed on the floor and I was buried. It's early afternoon on Monday, May the 12th, 2008. In the mountains of Sichuan province, China, in a small rural village, 27-year-old Mayan Sibag lies buried beneath the ruins of a restaurant. An unmoving body

I made a black sea of crumbled brick and splintered wood. Slowly, she opens her eyes. I woke up and my head was pounding. And I didn't understand. I'm sleeping. I'm in China. Where am I? I didn't know if it's morning, if it's night.

I was in a very dark place. And then I started to remember what happened. As she slowly regains lucidity, Mayan tries to ascertain what sort of state she's in. With a trembling hand, she slowly feels her way up her body, checking for injury. She gets to her neck and stops. It feels strange, mithshapen and wet. Her fingers trace the outline of her face.

That too is disturbingly unfamiliar. My mouth was not there. My tongue and my teeth, they were out from the skin. it was not connected to my face anymore, so I couldn't move my tongue. I couldn't create sound, and I couldn't talk, and I could hardly swallow my spit.

She cannot speak. She can barely swallow. The blood drips. People will be searching for survivors, but without any way of making noise, how will they know where to look? Entombed in building material and dust, battling rising panic,

Mayan suddenly hears a familiar voice Up above ground. I heard Anath's shouting, help me, help me, please. And I think after a few minutes or a few hours, again, I don't know, they pulled her out of the wreckage, and she told him, my friend is somewhere here. Nayan listens as the rescuers above move in her direction, spurred on by Anat's instructions.

A few horrific minutes pass as she lies, constricted by sharp and painful debris, unable to cry out in the dark. Then suddenly, there is a light. High above Mayan, daylight tunnels its way towards her in tiny shafts, as more chunks of restaurant are removed. But there is a lot of rubble to shift over a wide area, and time is of the essence. Anat is calling her name, imploring her to shout out to make some noise to let them know where to dig. Mayan tries again, but still not a single sound emerges from her badly swollen throat.

What if they give up? Assume she's dead and move on to saving someone else. They're right on top of her now. This is her one chance. She might not get another. Mayan begins to dig. In jerky, agonizing movements, she works to free herself. And slowly, carefully, she pulls.

herself upwards towards the light. And it was painful. It was really painful. I felt pain in all of my body because I squeeze myself in pathways that I couldn't really fit, you know? I had all of my body scratches and

my hands was full of blood. Enduring, searing pain with every movement, Mayan continues to climb. Batteries, drained, limbs, weak. It gets to a point where she can go no further. and then a hand

touches hers and she is pulled bloodied and mud-stained from the rubble squinting her eyes take time to adjust to the light when they finally do

they widen in disbelief it was a different word everything was ruined everything nothing was standing all of the houses the restaurants

the grocery stores the barbara shops Everything was ruined. And part of me said, no, it can't be real. I'm dreaming. I'm having this very vivid nightmare. It can't be real. It's not my life.

I don't want it to be my life. Survivors hurl, rubble from piles of shattered buildings as quickly as they can, desperate to recover others from the wreckage. They shout into the debris. They bark orders. There is crying and wailing and screams of pain. And amid the cacophony, One particular piercing shriek jolts Mayan out of her stupor.

It's Anat. She whirls around, searching the teeming crowds for her friend. And then she spots her, standing stock still all alone in a maelstrom of bodies, staring in disbelief at her hand. Anat was shouting like crazy, and I realized she had her fingers cut off. She didn't have her fingers And it was so much pain Blood pours down her arm

And trickles from her elbow onto the floor Mayan hobbles over to her friend As a gnat looks up at her for the first time Her expression shifts She stops wailing And seems to momentarily forget about the pain in her hand And she saw me and she was Myan what happened to you

And she was like a mirror to me And I realized I looked so bed. Everyone is looking at me. The local people, they were like, like, staring at me, that I look like a monster. One of her rescuers offers her a dusty bundle pulled from the carnage. It's her backpack. Mayenne rummages in her bag and pulls out a shirt. She'd packed it to wear the next day, but now she wraps it around her limp and dangling chin and ties it in a knot on top of her head. The makeshift sling absorbs some of the blood, though it doesn't stop its flow. It holds her dislocated jaw in place, and at the very least, makes her appearance a little less shocking.

She rummages in her bag once more, and this time pulls out her notebook. I realize that the notebook writing, that is going to be my mouse now. This is the way I'm going to communicate. And I wrote Anat, let's get the hell out of here. Mayan scribbles her plan down in the book and turns it to show Anat. We were so naive. We said, like, let's go to the bus station. Let's get the bus back.

The two women hauled themselves to their feet. The torn strips of clothing used to bandage their injuries already soaked red. They begin to trudge back towards the center of the village. Having taken her shoes off in the restaurant, Annette is barefoot, and the floor is covered in razor-sharp detritus. She treads carefully to avoid lacerating the soles of her feet. The going is no easier for Mayan.

Each movement of our body is almost unbearable. In the village, any hope that the landscape might improve along the way is extinguished. Ruination is complete. When they reach the bus station, it's no longer there. And the road out of the village, the one they'd come in on, is not an option. The road was blocked from trees, from buildings. We really didn't know what to do, where to go. and the local people told us just like wait here, like sit and wait, but I was so weak, I was bleeding to death.

Mayan takes the opportunity to empty her bag, keeping only strict essentials. The two women check their mobile phones, no signal. They approach a group of locals to ask if they have reception, but as they do, Mayan staggers, then stops swaying on the spot. Anat turns just in time to see her friend buckle and fall. Moments later, Mayan comes round. Anat is shouting at her to stay awake. If Mayan goes under, she may not come back. She never did get her food at the restaurant.

She hasn't eaten since yesterday. She hasn't had water in hours, and she's still hemorrhaging. They need to stop the bleeding. Anat asked for a local person to help me with the bleeding. Like, give me something for the bleeding. So he gave us leaves to put in my mouth, like a local leaves. Her medicinal training tells Mayen that the minty herb the man offers is at best an antiseptic. It won't stem the flow.

But as the leaf tingles in her mouth, another solution presents itself. A remedy Mayan once read about but has never seen in practice. One that is unconventional, to say the least. I remember that moment that we just learned in the Chinese traditional that if you burn human hair, you can stop bleeding. And I said, okay, this is a perfect moment to try it, you know. Where else could I try this stuff? And I have nothing to lose.

Mayen scribbles in her notebook her suggestion and shows it to Annette, who is skeptical in response. But Mayan's expression is determined. Why not give it a go? Anat mentions a barber shop she spotted through the window of the bus. It isn't far. With a renewed sense of purpose, she rushes off, instructing Mayan to stay put until she gets back.

Unbelievably, it isn't long before Anat returns holding a large pair of scissors and a lighter. Mayan's hair is too short so they use Anats, which is thick and curly. They burn locks of her hair, until they have a small, fresh pile of ash, which Mayan applies to the open wound in her mouth. It stopped the bleeding, not completely, of course, because I had these open injuries,

but it made it less streaming, you know, and it was good, and I said it's working, I feel better. With a mouthful of blood and ash, Mayan persuades Anat via her notebook that they should keep moving. Anat suggests they leave the road, which is blocked and twisted, impassable for vehicles and heavy going on foot,

and instead head into the forest, following the path of the river. They step away from the devastated village and into the thick green of the trees. The decision appears to be a good one. Walking is easier on the leafy forest floor, particularly for Annette bare feet. They reach the river back and see the water level has gone down to a tiny trickle. It's a strange sight, but it has its advantages. There was no water in the river. It was empty.

And people were walking, like walk in in the middle of the river. A raised section running down the middle of the river is now acting as an island pathway. Mayan and Annette joined the other survivors snaking along the raised shingle. The going is slow on the slippery moss-covered stones. High above, rocks loosened by the earthquake tumble down the mountainside. and smash loudly on the riverbank beside them. Mayan moves gingerly. The blood loss and lack of food and water

means she's taking care of every step. Tiring, she looks up to check the distance still to go and stops dead. Eyes wide, Mayan calls to Anat and points to the horizon. I will never forget seeing the bridge. I saw the bridge that connect between the mountains above the river and it was broken in the middle. That was the bridge that brought us with a bus,

the bridge that could bring us back to Chengdu. Now there is no bridge. What am I going to do now? The one rode out for them or in for any rescue is gone. Slumped and dejected, Mayan and Anad Plod on. Moving is better than doing nothing. They continue to follow the crowd of people through the riverbed. Then suddenly Anat grabs Mayan. A surprising incongruous sound echoes through the

trees, the sputter of an engine. Two young men on a motorbike are making their way along this small forest track. Anat waves them down and urges Mayan to show them her injury. Mayan summons her strength and limps over. Seeing her bandaged and blooded mouth, one of the men offers Mayan his seat on the bike. He saw my face and he said, come on, come on the bike. I will take you to a local hospital.

And I didn't want to go without an act. So I said, no, no, please, not without an act. The two men talk to each other, animatedly, trying to work out how to take both women when remarkably there is another distant, motorized roar and soon a second biker arrives. The young man get his attention and he screeches to a stop. When the situation is made clear, he agrees to help.

Mayenne and Anat hop on. The drive there was amazing because I could breathe, you know, some air in my face. I could breathe. Mayan lifts her face to the wind as it caresses her shattered jaw. She closes her eyes and takes deep, revitalizing breaths. The men drop Mayan and Annat outside a building, which they tell them is a hot.

hospital. The two broken women take it in. It's small, more of a village clinic than a proper emergency center, and it's been partly destroyed by the earthquake. Scores of injured patients are laid out in the car park for want of space. Doctors and nurses run in and out of what remains of the building, carrying medical supplies, shouting instructions, caught between adrenalized focus and sheer panic. It's chaos But it's a working medical facility Finally They're where they need to be

But I had this Great feeling that I'm here I did it I'm going to survive I'm in the hospital now I will get like medical attention And they will take care of me

And I will survive Relief floods Mayan's shattered body her shoulders slump she's finally relaxing after the day's utterly traumatic events but just as she does there is a familiar

rumble underfoot I'm not lying to you saying that I think one second from that thought that I'm going to survive yay another earthquake as strong as the other it's called after shock

just started and broke all of the hospital in front of my eyes. Man watches in frozen horror as what's left of the small village hospital crumbles to the ground. In the melee of deafening cracks and crunches, their salvation is reduced to rubble. All of my hope just broke to pieces and I said, oh my God, there is a chance I'm not surviving this moment. I'm going to die here. Incredibly, in the wake of this latest disaster, The energy of the local people remains strong.

The hospital workers have to act decisively, and they have to act fast. As Nayan watches, the medical staff begin to erect tent after tent in a neighboring coriander field. It was a clean field, and it was far away from the mountain, it was far away from the trees, no electricity, it was empty. So if there is more aftershock, nothing can hurt us again. the Chinese people are such an incredible people they build this tent city in like two hours like so fast they work so fast I don't know how they did it it was like magic

the sick and injured are organized into the various tents which fan out across the wide field as Mayan and Anat aren't local they are assigned their own one alongside two Chinese women who can speak English by now it's evening And as the shadows of the tents lengthen into nightfall, the rain that has been threatening all day finally starts to come down. The rain started falling like crazy. It was pouring rain like the sky is crying on the earth.

And it was so cold and all of the earth became mud. And I was there with my jaw broken, with the bleeding, with the hunger, with the thirst. And I was thinking to myself, I'm not sure I'm going to get out of here alive. Before long, a doctor comes to look at Mayan's jaw. He shines his torch in her mouth. Even as a medical professional, he's unable to hide his shock. It was like, oh my God. And he was so scared.

He said, no, no, we can't help you with that. It's like 10 hours' surgery. We can't help you with that. He told me, listen, you cannot lie down. because if you will lie down, all of the blood go to your throat and you will choke. Try not to fell asleep. So that was my night. I was sitting there and just thinking about my life, about my family, about death.

I had a lot of time for thinking. As she has done at regular intervals since the earthquake, she gets her phone out and tries to message home. Still no signal. So Mayenne sends messages of a different cause. kind. I put the phone away. This is not working. I will send messages by my mind, you know, like telepathic messages, and I just imagine myself sending thoughts to my mom, like, please help me, mom. And it's not the only prayer she tries. In their rucksacks, they have a book of Hebrew Psalms.

Annette takes the book and reads the sacred songs aloud. Over the drumming of the rain, the four women in the tent huddled to listen. Even though to half of them the words mean nothing, their sound and rhythm seem to cast a calming spell. And gradually, the night passes. In the morning, a nurse brings a saline infusion for Mayan, but her dehydration is so severe she cannot get it into her veins. It was like almost two days without water, without food,

and with bleeding non-stop. I couldn't think straight. felt like I'm on drugs, you know, like psychodetic drugs. Suddenly I saw like the energy of the trees, the roots, the stones, everything has a vibration. Morning merges into afternoon and afternoon tonight again as Mayan's senses warp. The loss of blood combined with hunger and dehydration is starting to affect her perception of reality. Without the proper medical attention she needs, she's slipping away. As the night was like getting deeper and deeper, the place was more and more quiet.

And as everything went silent, I felt like I'm moving towards something so deep in my self. My soul was suddenly so feathery, so light. And I got to this dark place and I felt like someone is hugging me. It felt like home to me. I said, wow, I'm home. And then I realized, okay, this is goodbye moment. I'm no longer my aunt. I'm dead.

My aunt is dead. My aunt died. Everything fades away. The rain, the tent, the people around her. In her barely conscious state, man seems to hear a voice questioning her, forcing her to face up to her regrets. The voice told me, get even deeper. And I said I didn't get married and I didn't open my clinic.

with my acupuncture. And he said, it's good, it's good. But get deeper, get deeper. What is the most painful? Painful, Maya. Painful, my hand. Painful, like crucial. And I got this moment of a ha moment.

I felt like a punch in my belly. And I said, oh my God, I want to be a mom. I want to become a mom. I can't believe I didn't have the privilege to become a mom. And I said, please, please let me. I want to go back. I don't want to die. And he said, okay.

I will give you a second chance. But you need to hear exactly as I say. And then he started saying, the moment the sun will rise, the rain will stop. You will go up and start walking, saving yourself. And I had this fire in me. I'm going to take this chance and I'm going to fight for my life. I want to live.

It is morning on Wednesday, May the 14th, 2008. nearly two days since the earthquake that rocked China's Sichuan province. Anat sleeps soundly on the floor of a tent she's sharing with three others. Gentle bird song accompanies the new dawn. Suddenly, she's shaken awake. Standing over her is Mahal. I had this fire like adrenaline and I just look from the tent. I saw the sun coming up.

The rain stopped exactly as the voice said. I wrote Anat a message. Bleary-eyed, Anat looks from the blurry outline of her friend to the notebook thrust under her nose and back. Mann looks like she's been plugged into the mains, full to the brim with manic energy. And the notebook is a simple message. She wants to go.

She wants to get up and walk out of this place of relative safety. And she wants to go now. We know in the medical that people before they die, they have this adrenaline rush. They suddenly rise to life for a few last hours. So she said, this is like a dying woman less wish. I will go with it, you know. Anat knows that what man is proposing is impossible. Leaving here on foot, heading into the unknown, they'll never survive.

But she accepts her friend's final request. So the two survivors, gather their things. Anat borrows some shoes from a soldier, and they strike out together once more. Before they can get out of the field, Tintin, one of the women from their tent, pleads for them to reconsider. Seeing the commotion, a doctor comes over and he too urges them to stay. He tells them, there are no bridges connecting the mountains anymore. It is at least a 12-hour walk over steep slopes and punishing terrain to any kind of safety. It will be unwise for them to attempt this in peak physical condition, let alone the state they're in.

Their pleading is so vociferous and their logic so sound, a shadow of doubt passes of a man's broken face. I know that people that are having this dehydration, they start to have hallucinations. So I had this doubt coming up again. But I said to myself this time, even if I'm dying, it's better for me to die while trying and not while waiting like a victim, you know, like I want to die while trying while doing something

and it will be good enough for me. As Anat explains their decision to the infuriated doctor, Mayan walks to the edge of the field. The road is a ruin, a mess of cracked concrete and twisted trees. Mayan scouts around for a good direction to head in, but no path looks promising. She needs to consult with Anat. or ideally a local. She needs some guidance. Dejected, she sits down to wait.

I just sat on the ground and suddenly I saw shoes and I took my eyes up and I saw this Chinese guy, young Chinese, very cute guy. And he asked me, do you need help? Because I was in the middle of the road. Gave me his hand, pulled me up and he said, can you walk? And I said, like, yeah, yeah, yeah. and I show him that my legs are working. And he said, okay, I will take you as simple as that.

And he took my hand and he put it on his shoulder. And he carried me up in the mountain. This gallant saviour is Jiang Wei, a local. He says he knows a path up the mountains that no tourist would ever spot. Once Anat catches up with them and Mayan explains that she's not being kidnapped, to quite the opposite. The three of them make their way into the mountains. They walk, and they walk, and they walk. We walk for 12 hours in the muddy mountains.

After three days of rain, the trail is slick and thick with mud. Their shoes are caked, slipping and sliding on the treacle-like terrain. They climb higher, meandering their way through a brown and green patchwork of sludge and thick forest. up and up over boulders and felled trees and murky puddles. It's an epic trek, one that would challenge a fully fit climber, and Mayen is running on empty. Every time they stop for a break, Anat watches her friend with a furrowed brow. A thirst must be unbearable. Jiang Wei has a meager supply of clean water in a small bottle.

In desperation, Mayan takes a sip, but she immediately chokes it back. up, a damaged throat too swollen to swallow. Jiang Wei is visibly shocked. He insists they speed up and take fewer breaks. The pace is relentless. When they do rest, it seems impossible Mayen will get up to continue, but she does again and again. And then suddenly, in the middle of the muddy path, Mayan stops dead and stands perfectly still, a head cocked to one side. Anat stops too. Concern writ large on her pale, exhausted face. Mayan tells Anat she can hear her own name, echoing through the surrounding vegetation.

Anat's shoulders slump. Her friend is hallucinating. She moves towards a man to catch her if she faints. But then she hears it too. A muffled but distinctive man. The voice grows louder and clearer, and soon Annette is calling back. And like an apparition out of the bushes, walks a young man, eyes brimming with tears. I can't believe we found you, he says.

And it was another miracle. Elirang and Nisan, two young Israelis sent by the foreign ministry in the wake of the earthquake, have been searching for them for three days, scouring the wide, wild, expanse of this region. And in the midst of the wilderness, they've found them. It is a barely believable piece of good fortune. Emotion pours out of the group, tears and hugs and laughter. But now there is just a small task of getting out.

We all walk together and it was a devastating journey. I walk with nothing, like only with air, in my blood. I was starving. No sugar, no proteins, nothing. I was three days without eating. I was dehydrated. I couldn't drink. I couldn't swallow. Carrying my bodies, I carrying a backpack

with stones. The group takes turns, helping Mayan, even carrying her if needs be. Alirang has a satellite phone. They just need to get high enough to be able to use it. There is one slope left to summit.

And here, At the last hurdle, Mayan finally gives up. I told them, I'm good. I'm whole. Like, I can die here. I'm good. I was really good, really. I didn't lie.

Oh, it's make me tear again. I didn't lie. I was good saying like goodbye, saying, okay. You know, I tried. I was, I was good with it because I tried. My aunt's friends look at her, slumped on the ground, her body emptied. But they've come too far to give up now. And so the group decides to tell her a little white lie.

One final motivation to push her to the top. They convince her that at the summit of the mountain is an ancient spring producing the most beautiful, clear water. Water, they say, with magical healing properties, well known in these parts. It's a fairy tale, of course, but it works. And said, okay, okay, take me there. So all of them like push me up the mountain. And when I got there, like it took hours.

And I cried every step of the way, every move I cried. It was so hard. And when we got to the top of the mountain, I saw the view and I said, wow, it's amazing, what amazing, amazing place to do this journey. With green, sprawling valleys and peaks stretching out before them, Mayan allows the moment to wash over her. And it isn't long until the satellite phone beeps. They have signal. Their call goes through to the embassy.

Help is on its way. The next day, Thursday the 15th, Mayan wakes up in a bed in Chengdu Hospital after undergoing ten hours of surgery to fix her shattered jaw. Her family are sat by her bedside. she'll be there seven days before she flies home. Crucially, the immensely complex surgery has been a success. And though it will take six months just to be able to speak again, Mayan is already onto her next great journey, writing about the ordeal.

She pours her experience out on the page in meticulous detail. It will form part of her recovery. This is how I remember so clearly everything because I wrote it. That was part of my psychology treatment to write it. Mann also goes to therapy because even when her jaw has fully healed, it still hurts to talk about it. It took me many, many years to tell the story without breaking every time again. When people told me, why do you have this scar? And I told him earthquake and they said, wow, can you tell me about it?

I had this panic attack, you know? And I had this post-traumatic syndromes. I had dizziness and vomiting, and they just asked me about this car, and I had all of this side effect. As the years pass, her tale of survival goes from one of victimhood to one of resilience, hope, and transformation. Last year, Mayan published her story. The book is dedicated to all those who did not survive the earthquake.

The fact that she did make it through is down to a number of factors, luck being a major one. Because many of those who stayed never got the medical treatment they needed. Today I know that was the best decision because the people that waited died. Yeah, the people that waited died. All told, the 2008 Sichuan earthquake claimed 70,000 lives and made anywhere between 4.8 and 11 million people homeless. As the hardest hit areas were poor and rural, their health infrastructure was quickly overwhelmed.

Heavy rainfall and ruined roads made the isolated regions hard to access for rescue workers. In the town of Yingshu, the epicenter of the earthquake, the population fell from 9,000 to 2,300. For Mayan, she is immensely grateful to all the people that helped her. In 2024, she traveled back to China to be reunited with many of these local heroes, including Jiang Wei, a kindly guide through the mountains. They retraced some of their route, and Mayan did something her injury prevented her from doing 16 years ago. She said thank you. As for her life, now Mayan says she's an optimist.

She tries as much as possible to look on the bright side and not take anything for granted. After all, she has an example to set. After China, I got pregnant really fast, actually. It was another miracle because, you know, I walk to become a mom. I fight death to become a mom to create life. We got married me and my fiancé, and I have three children today. So it's a good ending. Next time on real survival stories,

an incredible mystery plays out beneath the waves as we meet marine biologist Nan Hauser. Based in the Cook Islands, the 63-year-old is an expert in the behavior of whales and spends her days studying and swimming alongside the giant mountain. But in September 2017, while Nan is taking footage for a nature documentary, a 45-ton humpback comes charging towards her at full tilt. In seconds, Nan will find herself being picked up and swept along by the enormous creature, balanced on the tip of its vast jaw. My grandmother was 103, and she always used to say to me, please don't be swallowed by a whale.

And here I am here right on his mouth. All he has to do is open his mouth. What does the animal want with her? Is this an attack or something else? And how can Nan possibly get out of this in one piece? The answers to those questions will eventually become clear and will be both fascinating and terrifying in equal measure. That's next time on real survival stories.

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