The Smell of Death and Destruction

(The correspondent has returned from Kungyangone Township after interviewing several survivors of Cyclone Nargis.)
 
Thirty-five miles from Rangoon, the air smells of death. Dead bodies and the rotting cadavers of buffaloes lie in the gutters of this town, so near Burma’s largest city and the country’s once proud capital.

Overhead, a cruel sun beats down on the homeless who seek shelter amid the ruins of their houses.

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Pu Suu, 14, cowers under a tattered umbrella, as she cooks a pot of rice to feed the other five survivors of her family. A younger sister lies sick and crying in her mother’s arms.

“This might be our last pot of rice,” says Pu Suu with resignation.

Four thousand of Kungyangone’s residents are thought to have died when the cyclone hit one week ago.  

The survivors have been assured by the authorities that the town has enough supplies to feed all. One member of the town’s Union Solidarity and Development Association 
said the organization is delivering enough rice to the storm victims, pointing at the sacks of rice in his house. Building materials were being handed out to people to rebuild their demolished homes, he said.

Yet his neighbor Ko Tin, 40, whose house was swept away by the storm, said he and the five members of his family had received only four cans of rice a day. Burma people use an empty condensed milk can as a measurement, and one person normally requires more than one and a half of cans of rice per day. They had not received any building materials, he said.

A woman in her fifties said her household of 18 people was also receiving just four cans of rice a day. Her children and grandchildren lay hungry on the floor around her. “I tell them to go in search of food and wood and fetch it by hook or by crook.”

Some residents say donors of aid are forced to leave the supplies and cash with the security forces stationed in the center of the small town.

“This deters the flow of donations from outside [the town],” said a 35-year-old teacher. “People don’t believe their honesty, because people know they [the security forces] will try to win the hearts of the people with the food the donors give.”

Members of the security forces patrol the streets, but none seems interested in the plight of the homeless.

Tun Than, 44, supervises the care of more than 800 homeless in a local monastery. He points to three policemen walking through the monastery compound and says: “We don’t need the police. There are no more homes to protect. We just need rice.”