A journey into the heart of the cyclone-hit delta

A month after Cyclone Nargis hit Myanmar, access to the worst-affected Ayeyarwady Delta for foreigners, whether aid workers or journalists, remains a challenge. A photo-journalist recalls his struggle to reach the southern area of Bogale.

"On 4 June, heavy rains started in Yangon, the former capital, resulting in a major traffic jam as floodwaters stopped decades-old vehicles and forced commuters to wade through knee-deep water. At my guesthouse, I immediately sought information from a colleague on the situation in the delta area and how he had managed to get past several military checkpoints.

"I had a chance to visit the northern part of the delta region, the town of Kong Yangon. The only way to make it even to the tip of the delta was to blend in. So I wore my longyi, a traditional men's outfit, and headed off to the other side of the Yangon River to take a public bus to the affected areas.

"We passed several checkpoints coming out of the main city of Yangon. The road had a moon-like surface and was covered in the debris of uprooted trees and demolished houses.

"Getting around Kong Yangon was tougher than I’d imagined. It was crawling with soldiers clearing debris from roadsides and hanging around in blue tents watching medical workers conduct check-ups and provide first aid to cyclone survivors. Trying to be as local as possible, I and another 'tourist' cautiously walked to the town's port, hoping to catch a boat to some of the more isolated villages that had yet to receive help.

"We arrived in Pazumchaun, a village an hour-and-a-half away by boat. It was already raining hard when we arrived and the wind was blowing again. We talked to the village elder through an interpreter. He said it had all happened so fast, the villagers hadn't realised the intensity of the cyclone until the next day. At least 100 people died in that village alone, including an eight-year-old monk.

"We then travelled to the village of Kyuan Manul, home to about 1,800 people, which had lost approximately 300 inhabitants. A timid 13-year-old boy named Kyawthu began talking about his experience: 'It was dark, but I heard loud grumbling noises and the wind was very hard. The next thing I knew I was alone and could not find my family, I know they are dead,' he said."

Battle for survival

"But the people of Myanmar are resilient. Everywhere you go, people are busy getting back on their feet. They have no time for grieving but the sorrow and fatigue, as well as the lack of food, are etched into their faces. Soldiers are visible on the whole stretch of the main highway, clearing the road. But the people living in secluded areas have to do most of the clearing on their own, with limited access to basic supplies.

Photo: Contributor/IRIN

A man stands amid the debris of what used to be a school in Kahmu village in the delta region

"The next day, we attempted to go farther south into the delta but twice we were asked to vacate our seats and return our tickets because the bus attendants feared we would be caught at military checkpoints and their operations would be suspended or they would be put in jail.

"Finally, after much travelling, doing our best to remain under the radar of the authorities, I had made it to ground zero, Bogale town, where Nargis had unleashed its full force.

"There I saw foreign NGOs distributing rice and other supplies. I also saw medical teams making their rounds to the neighbouring islands to conduct check-ups and bring first aid to the survivors.

"The problem remains, however, in the ability of people to rebuild their lives. They have lost their loved ones - and their livelihoods.

"Their fate lies not only in the government's ability to repair whatever damage Cyclone Nargis has brought them, but in how prepared they will be when another cyclone wreaks its destruction."

ds/mw