About 15 children's backpacks ripped in rubble – pink, blue and orange bags with books spilled.
Spider-Man's toys and letters scattered in broken chairs, tables and garden slides, the remains of the preschool were destroyed by a massive earthquake that struck Myanmar on Friday.
It is in the town of Kyaukse, about 40 kilometers (25 miles) south of Mandalay, and is one of the largest attacks by a 7.7-magnitude earthquake.
Kywe Nyein crying as he talks about his five-year-old granddaughter's death in the earthquake [BBC]
Kywe Nyein, 71, was crying, explaining that his family was preparing to hold the funeral of his five-year-old granddaughter Thet Hter San.
He said the mother was having lunch when the devastating earthquake began. She ran to the school, but the building had completely collapsed.
The little girl's body was discovered about three hours later. “Luckily, we keep our beloved bodies intact on the one hand,” he said.
Thet Hter San is one of at least 12 children who died in preschool, as well as a teacher [BBC]
Locals said there were about 70 children in school on Friday, aged between 2 and 7, and were happy to study. But now there is little left except for a pile of bricks, concrete and irons.
The school said 12 children and a teacher died, but locals believe that the number is at least 40 – that is the collapsed part downstairs.
Residents and parents were upset. People say the whole town came to help with the rescue work and retrieved several bodies on Friday. They described the mother crying and shouted out the names of the children who had been in the long run until the night.
Now, three days later, the site is quiet. People looked at me with sad faces.
Locals believe that as many as 40 children die when the lower level of the kindergarten collapses [BBC]
Aid groups warn that the humanitarian crisis in Myanmar has worsened, hospital damage and overwhelmed, despite the overall damage.
Before we arrived in Kyaukse, we were in the capital Nay Pyi Taw.
The worst area we see is a building that is a residential area for civil servants. The entire bottom floor collapsed, leaving the three floors still standing on top of it.
There was blood in the rubble. The strong stench suggests that many people die there, but there are no signs of rescue work.
It is not clear whether the civil servant died when PYI TAW collapsed [BBC]
A group of police officers are loading furniture and household items onto trucks, seemingly trying to save something that is still available.
The police officer in charge will not give us interviews, although we are allowed to film for a while.
We can see people mourning and desolate, but they don’t want to talk to the media and worry about revenge from the military.
We left many questions. How many people are under the rubble? Can any of them still be alive? Why can the dead body be even recovered without rescue work?
The injured person is receiving a sultry temporary tent in a temporary tent outside the capital's largest hospital [BBC]
Just a 10-minute drive from the hotel, we visited the largest hospital in the capital – here known as the “1,000-bed hospital”.
The roof of the emergency room collapsed. At the entrance, a sign that states “Emergency Room” lays on the ground.
Outside there are six military medical trucks and several tents, caring for patients evacuated from the hospital.
The tent is sprayed with water to relieve some relief from the intense heat.
It seems there are about 200 injured people there, some with bleeding heads and some with broken limbs.
We saw an official condemnation employee, involving other colleagues who did not go to work in an emergency.
I realized that the man was the Minister of Health, had won Dr. Khaing and had an interview with him, but he briefly refused my request.
On the route to the city, people sit under the trees on the central reservation of the expressway, trying to get some relief from the scorching sun.
It was the hottest time of the year – it must have been close to 40c – but due to the ongoing aftershocks, they were afraid to enter the building.
At 4 a.m. on Sunday, we began our journey to the earthquake zone, starting from Yangon, about 600 kilometers (370 miles) south of Mandalay. The road is black and there are no street lights.
After more than three hours of driving, we saw a team of about 20 rescuers in orange uniforms, with the logo on their vests showing them from Hong Kong. As we head north, we start to find cracks on the road.
This route usually has several checkpoints, but we have traveled 185 km (115 miles) before we see one route. A lonely police officer told us that the road ahead was closed due to the cracked bridge and showed us the transfer.
We had hoped to arrive at Mandalay, Myanmar's second largest city by Sunday night.
However, the transfer of our cars in heat and our car problems make this impossible.
One day later, we finally arrived at the city. It is in a completely dark state, with no street lights, no power or running water.
We were worried about what we would find when we came here in the morning.
