Train Crash

On our first day in Morocco we caught a train from Tangiers with the aim of reaching Casablanca. After about two hours the train hit a truck and derailed. Yaz and I are fine and as far as we know, no one was killed in the accident.

Unlike all other blog entries, I’ll write this one from my perspective. Here is what happened.

The day started out unlike any other, because we caught a ferry to Africa. We’ve left the car in Tarifa (but don’t tell any thieves) and are planning to spend about two weeks in Morocco. We arrived in Tangiers around midday and got on the 13:35 train to Casablanca.

After a couple of stops a local woman sat next to me (and across from Yaz) with her young baby. When she asked me in English to lower the blinds, I of course got excited at the prospect of striking up a conversation. A few questions about where she was going soon led to about a 90 minute discussion of life in Morocco and Australia, similarities and differences. We spoke about the age at which people get married, the Arab Spring, attitudes towards homosexuality, religious observance and more.

Because up until this point we have travelled in a car, this was easily the longest and most in depth insight we have had into a country’s culture received directly from a local. After a while, Nejla (our new found friend) moved across the aisle to change the baby, resting him on one of the seats.

I took a moment to tell Yaz how we had been missing this sort of experience by being in a car and that train travel definitely had its benefits. I didn’t finish that sentence.

We felt two sudden jolts within three seconds of each other, the first of which must have been the driver slamming on the brakes, and the second when we hit the truck. I was facing the back of the train, which meant that the chair cushioned any impact and I felt no pain whatsoever. Yaz twice jerked forward hitting her chest and wrist on the table between our seats. She only has a small bruise.

That we were at the back of the train helped, but I would estimate that we were only going about 80km/h anyway. The fact that the driver was able to cut the impact in half by braking probably saved not only his life but perhaps the passengers as well.

After the impact of the truck, the train took a few seconds to stop. Before it stopped Yaz had already jumped to her feet because she was worried about Nejla’s baby.  Her baby had fallen from the chair and she had picked him up before the train had even ground to a halt. Obviously in hysterics, she and the baby were comforted by other passengers. The baby stopped crying within five minutes and seemed to be fine. To cut their story here, they were later taken in an ambulance for checks, and we can only assume and hope that the baby is ok.

After about five minutes we grabbed our bags and jumped off of the train to see the extent of the crash.

The passengers convened on the crossroad and waited. Surprisingly few people seemed injured. My guess is that unless you were standing, or if luggage fell on you, you would have been fine.

Yaz and I had done a one day first-aid course before leaving Sydney and had brought a small first-aid kit with us to Morocco. I took out the small red box and walked to the front of the train to see if anyone with proper medical training could use it. I waved it around and asked if anyone spoke English but received only blank expressions. When I reached the driver’s compartment I saw that the front window had shattered but that he was still trapped inside, trying to kick his way out.

I didn’t find anyone who needed my help, so I took a moment to take a few more photos.

Returning to Yaz and the other passengers we finally found someone to help. The guy pictured below had probably broken his nose and we put a bandage on it. Yay!!

Moments later a woman approached me and said, in English, that a man was on the floor unable to breathe. Could I help? I tried to explain that I had no actual training and was just hoping to give the first-aid kit to someone qualified. She said that he was dying and pleaded with me to help. So what could I do? I walked down the hill to a man lying on his side surrounded by about 30-40 people.

As I approached I continued to explain that I was not a doctor and would not be able to help. She yelled something in Arabic to the crowd, who all stared at me and made space for me to approach the casualty. That was intense!

Since I had done a one day course, I started to provide first aid. Knowing that he was already in the recovery position and not bleeding, the only thing I could think of to do was check that his airways were clear. But first I asked the woman to ask the guy his name.

Well praise Allah (the local god) because the next moment a Japanese tourist arrived, claimed she was a doctor and attended to the man. But I did hold his head still when she rolled him onto his back.

I should mention that before we even got off the train, the area filled up with local townspeople coming to stare, take photos and possibly to help. The first ambulance only arrived after about 30 minutes but from our guess less than 10 people were taken to hospital.

While waiting a young woman who had been sitting across the aisle from us approached us to ask if we would wait with her. The woman, Hajar, was a student travelling alone to Rabat and preferred that we stay with her as she was unaccompanied. As her English was very good, we were more than happy to have her accompany us and explain everything that was going on.

After about an hour, representatives from the rail authority arrived and told us that we would be picked up in minibuses and taken to the next train station. This proved to be rather slow as the road had become clogged with cars either trying to pass the crossing, or offering rides to stranded passengers.

  

We got on the last minibus along with Hajar, a friendly guy who’d lost a tooth in the crash, and the guys who sold drinks on the train. They took us to Sidi Kacem to board a train which left just over 2 hours after the accident.

While at first we were shaken up by the crash, the day turned out to be one that we will remember fondly because of the friendly and helpful people that we met. We were even invited by a few passengers to spend the night at their homes.

And of course, the highlight was getting a free coke in the minibus.