'To Be Busy Helps Them Forget'

In Soe's village, about four hours south of Bogalay, survivors gathered to greet a rare foreign visitor. About 30 crowded into a newly built hut to hear the headman tell their story.

During the storm, 26 entire families vanished, he said. None of their bodies has been recovered.

The rest of the villagers clutched floating wreckage or grasped at tree trunks or piled into a leaking boat and fled to a monastery in a distant village. Days later, local authorities told them to leave, handed them the equivalent of $10 per household and ferried them in military boats to another village hours upriver. Almost 300 have now made it back.

"We used to sing every day," Soe said. "We used to sing as we marched to work." They were songs filled with joy, songs to carry them to the fields and out into the yellow waters to catch shrimp and river fish.

No one was supposed to be living here. The village is located in an area marked as uninhabited, a forest reserve, on the government map used by aid agencies. But field workers have discovered about 12,000 survivors in 60 villages across the area, all of them almost entirely wiped out. An estimated 20,000 people died.

The region was among the worst-hit because it lay directly along the path of the cyclone. But environmental experts say a more significant reason for the high death toll, here and elsewhere in the delta, was the systematic destruction of mangrove forests. In the December 2004 tsunami that devastated South Asia, dense mangrove coverage in Sri Lanka was shown to have helped save lives.

According to a study published last month by the U.N. Food and Agriculture Organization, decades of illegal encroachment and government-sanctioned neglect had seriously degraded the mangrove forests in the Irrawaddy Delta. "If there had been decent mangrove on the shorelines, the death toll would have been cut in half," said Lucas Riegger, a U.N. vulnerability analyst and mapping specialist.

One-third of survivors around Bogalay suffer from psychological stress, according to Doctors Without Borders. Field workers from other groups reported meeting survivors who refused food or wouldn't speak. One man, found on a roadside, repeatedly hugged the invisible coconut tree to which he had clung when the waters rose. Others told relief workers that they were unable to sleep or could still feel the hands of sons and daughters slipping from their grasp.

"It's like being born again every day. I am learning to live again like a child," said Hla Dwe, 36, a farmer and fisherman who lost his mother, wife and both children.

The village's five remaining water buffaloes lolled about together neck-deep in a pool of mud. Even if ownership of the animals could be sorted out, they were too sick and weak to work the fields for more than a few hours a day, villagers said. New buffaloes would take too long to train.

Local authorities in Bogalay offered to sell the people tractors under special terms, but buyers needed to prove they had owned more than 50 acres, with a photograph and a form signed by the village leader. Two farmers here were rich enough to qualify; the rest had worked plots of from five to 20 acres each.

"We are victims. So how can we buy this?" said Chau, 32, a stone-faced farmer who said his sister, mother and nephew had died in the storm.