'Uplifting' giving and determination in Mexico's relentless quake search

Mexico is a hard place at the best of times. Cartel and general crime are endemic. It has one of the worst murder rates in the world and some of the poorest people as well.

But what I have seen here over the past two or three days is quite simply the most uplifting sense of community giving I have ever witnessed.

The earthquake that struck here damaged dozens of buildings, killed scores and left the emergency services reeling as they tried to cope.

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Within minutes, though, the first volunteers had started to form themselves up, scrabbling at rubble, trying to find people alive.

That first few has turned into thousands: assisting the military and disaster specialists that are now in abundance - refusing the break from their work; day and night, hot sun and lashing rain, they are trying to find people alive.

It has become an obsession with some, I suspect.

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The donations of food, water, medicine, clothes, workers and construction equipment is staggering.

Everyone wants to help, everyone wants to be there when the survivors are found.

As a team of outsiders we are constantly offered food and water but we turn it down, embarrassed that we are being looked after by people who may well have lost everything.

We have moved between the various rescue sites over the past days. But one really caught our attention.

A council block was pancaked in the earthquake. Five or six floors now two or three.

How anyone could survive in there I do not know, but the rescuers are convinced.

"There is a woman between two mattresses," a volunteer told me.

"We will get her," he said, as a group of men on the roof wielding sledgehammers continued to smash away at a thick concrete block.

It's back breaking but they never stop, they don't seem to take a rest. They are trying to free blocks up that cranes can lift away.

It is dangerous stuff. A second crane is needed, but there are trees in the way.

Using pulleys and climbing gear, a tree specialist pulls himself high in to the air and strapped to the tree starts cutting off limbs. It is amazingly professional.

Every few minutes there is a pause. Clenched fists poke into the air.

It is a silence protocol which everyone must adhere to.

The rescuers are listening for the sound of survivors. You could hear a pin drop - in this case a tap on a pipe or a cry.

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A hush falls across the crowd and we hear a search dog bark and a man shout. Then a cheer from a search crew on the other side of the building.

They must have heard someone, but within seconds the work continues.

They are convinced they will find people alive, and across Mexico City these scenes are being repeated 24 hours a day.

One strange development in all this positivity are the events at the Enrique Rebsamen school.

For days it was reported a girl had been located alive and today it was said there were other children as well.

By evening it was confirmed that the rescue effort had been called off and that there never was a girl.

What on earth happened?

Certainly the 'discovery' galvanised the rescue effort across Mexico. But was that it? Was fake news used to spur people on? Goodness knows, but I suspect someone will have to explain.

So the searching goes on in multiple locations even as I write.

The weather changes hourly, sometimes baking, sometimes lashing with rain. But the volunteers don't seem to notice.

They are on a mission to save. It has been a privilege to witness.