The agency urged the Sri Lankan government to do all it can improve the situation in the camps around Vavuniya, in the north of the country.

Oxfam has rapidly expanded its work in Sri Lanka and is now providing water and sanitation to over 100,000 people and is preparing to assist a further 40,000. Almost 200,000 people have escaped the war zone since January and a further 60,000 are on their way says the UN.

Aid agencies are struggling to play catch-up after a second influx in a month of thousands of displaced people from the conflict zone. Most are exhausted and half-starved after a gruelling three-month siege which cost over 6,000 civilian lives, according to the UN.

David White, Oxfam's acting Country Director, said: "Oxfam is very concerned about conditions in the camps. It's been a race against time to get water and sanitation services up and running, and we're worried that people are not getting enough clean water. There are problems with providing food and shelter to the displaced people.

"Now the end of the fighting has led to a massive influx of new people, and we are worried that the camps will not be able to cope.

"These people are extremely traumatized. Many have lost family in the fighting or become separated as they escaped. They are innocent civilians caught up in this conflict.

"The Sri Lankan government must work with aid agencies and the international community to make sure the camps are of a decent standard so the displaced people get the help they urgently need.

"In the longer term, the government of Sri Lanka must work towards letting the displaced people return home as soon as possible. They must not be allowed to fester in these camps for years, and instead be housed with relatives or friends as soon as possible."

In addition to the camps being brought into line with international standards, Oxfam says independent observers such as the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees or the International Committee for the Red Cross must witness the screening process which separate any remaining Tamil Tiger fighters from civilians.

The agency had previously planned for a £2.2 million (about $3.4 million) program reaching 175,000 people. Now, as the numbers of people needing urgent assistance mounts, Oxfam has boosted its efforts to a £5.3 million (about $8.29 million) program reaching 360,000 people with clean water and sanitation, food and public hygiene information.

"We've been seeing thousands of families continuing to flee their homes, many walking great distances to find food, water, medicine, shelter and other essential items. This is now a massive humanitarian crisis. We have never witnessed such huge numbers of people fleeing conflict inside Pakistan before. With the Pakistani authorities and aid agencies already severely stretched, a further influx could turn this crisis into a catastrophe," said Neva Khan, Oxfam country director in Pakistan.

Yesterday, US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton announced a $110 million commitment in emergency aid for displaced Pakistani civilians. This is in addition to the nearly $60 million the United States has provided to Pakistan since last August.

"The announcement is critical as we now have a full blown humanitarian crisis on our hands. The international community needs to follow suit and recognize the urgency of the situation in Pakistan. If we do not act fast, this crisis will overwhelm the aid effort already struggling to cope," said Raymond C. Offenheiser, president of Oxfam America.

Since the fighting started in April, more than 1.5 million people have fled their homes, bringing the total number of those displaced by conflict to over two million since August of last year. While many are housed in official camps, most are staying with host families, with large numbers in temporary shelters such as schools or spontaneous camps. It is estimated that nearly half of those displaced are children.

Conditions in official camps are still extremely difficult with shortages of essential items, including food, water, sanitation facilities, shelter and health care.

Oxfam is concerned about people staying with host families. They are less visible than people in camps but have urgent needs, so special efforts are required to ensure they are not neglected. Conditions in spontaneous camps are very poor. They are scattered across the region and harder to assist, but local people and organizations are generously providing help. Displaced women and girls are especially vulnerable wherever they find themselves.

With some champions in Congress and support from the White House, we're hoping to see domestic legislation that not only fines companies who pollute, but also uses some of these funds to help affected communities build their resilience. If we are successful domestically, we can lay the groundwork for a global deal at the UN Climate Change Conference this December—an agreement that will create a more hospitable climate for us all.

Also in this issue: A force of peace in Peru; Rebuilding in Bangladesh; Oxfam America's new role in Darfur.

"We survived the shelling, but now we've nothing to eat," said Mr Gul. "The fighting was all around us. Five members of my family were killed in the attack. It was terrifying. We left everything and walked here. Now we've no food and not enough water."

Mr Gul and his family fled with literally just the clothes on their backs and are crammed into a small tent without any blankets or possessions. "I've heard some wheat will be distributed tomorrow, but how can we cook it?" said Mr Gul, gesturing around the bare tent. "We've no pots or pans, no utensils, no stove."

A feeling of depression and listlessness hangs over the camp. Ten days ago it was a patch of bare ground wedged in between a market and a road within the town of Mardan. Now it's the new home to eight thousand civilians caught up in the fighting. They lie in the intense heat, struggling to get through the worst of the day as temperatures soar into the 40s. Like Mr Gul and his family, most of them look worn out. Water is short and they've not been able to wash for days.

"I'm worried about the children," said Mr Gul. "They're already getting diarrhea and allergies. I think they could easily get malaria. There's not enough water to keep them clean."

Life is especially tough for the women. Many don't want to meet unfamiliar men and feel they must spend the day inside the roasting hot tents. There's nowhere private and secluded enough for them to wash. Some water is making it into the camp in tankers, and Oxfam will start bringing in more over the coming days, as well as providing soap, buckets, and cooking gear. But it's only a relief, not the solution.

"The difference between home and here is the difference between the earth and the sky," said Roshana Bibi, one of a group of women huddling under a tree for shade. "Going back home would be like going to heaven."

"We're seeing a flood of families arriving from the conflict area, carrying whatever possessions they could bring," said Neva Khan, Oxfam country director in Pakistan.

"The provincial authorities and aid agencies are working hard to cope with the huge influx. But with clashes continuing and thousands more families on their way, much more needs to be done—especially to meet the needs of the most vulnerable, such as women and girls.

"The lack of sufficient water and sanitation facilities is causing problems for many people. With the current hot temperatures set to rise and torrential monsoon rains just six weeks away, the risks of illness and disease are rising fast. The Pakistani authorities, donors, and aid agencies need to respond quickly and effectively to prevent further suffering."

Working closely with local partner organizations, Oxfam is providing essential items and services, such as water and sanitation facilities and health information, not only to people in camps but also to those staying in cramped, difficult conditions with host families whose resources are already overstretched.

"Although they are less visible, around three-quarters of displaced people have sought refuge outside camps. We need to ensure that they are not neglected," said Neva Khan.

More than 360,000 people have registered in camps and special centers for displaced people in recent weeks, with another 200,000 estimated to be on their way following renewed fighting between government forces and armed groups in Pakistan's North West Frontier Province.

This latest exodus comes amid renewed fighting between Pakistani government forces and armed groups and is in addition to more than 550,000 people who have fled their homes since August 2008 to escape previous clashes. Oxfam assisted more than 15,000 women, men, and children who fled their homes in NWFP after battles erupted in the region last year.

Scores of civilians have reportedly been killed or injured in recent weeks of clashes and many thousands more have lost their homes and livelihoods.

An estimated 200,000 civilians are thought to be trapped in areas where intense fighting continues. The humanitarian community has no access to these populations. Oxfam calls on all sides in the conflict to take special care to avoid harming non-combatants and to allow humanitarian workers safe access to assist civilians affected by the conflict wherever they are.

Oxfam also calls on the international community to support efforts by the government and aid agencies to provide displaced civilians with emergency relief as well as plans to help them return to their communities to rebuild their homes and livelihoods.

Aiming to reach the most vulnerable women, men, and children, Oxfam has been providing humanitarian relief and development in Pakistan for more than 35 years.

Working closely with Sri Lankan partner organizations, Oxfam is providing primarily clean water, sanitation and public health assistance to families arriving in government-controlled areas, as well as cooked food and other essential relief items. Plans are in place to assist up to 60,000 more.

However, over 50,000 civilians may still remain trapped in a small, heavily crowded rebel-held enclave in northeast Sri Lanka, where humanitarian conditions are now catastrophic. Hundreds have been killed or injured in the past few days. Children are dying of untreated wounds as well as a lack of clean water and unhygienic conditions.

Both sides must pause in their battle to allow trapped civilians to leave safely and for humanitarian workers to reach the sick and wounded, said Oxfam.

"For each day that passes without at least pause in fighting, civilian families are paying with their lives," said Joan Summers, Oxfam Country Director in Sri Lanka.

Oxfam calls on both parties to the conflict to fulfill their obligations under international humanitarian law by permitting safe civilian evacuations and humanitarian access, respecting the lives and neutrality of all non-combatants.

Oxfam urges the Sri Lankan government to fulfill its obligations under national laws and international humanitarian law by ensuring the humanitarian relief effort is increased rapidly and significantly, allowing both national and international aid workers safe and unhindered access to affected families.

Oxfam also urges the international community to help affected civilians by pressing for a humanitarian pause in the fighting by and supporting efforts to provide the 250-300,000 Sri Lankans displaced by the war with both adequate emergency relief and longer term recovery assistance.

Oxfam has been working closely with local partners to provide safe drinking water, sanitation facilities such as latrines and hygiene kits, emergency shelter, and other essential items to thousands of displaced civilians. Our relief activities have been targeting the most vulnerable civilians such as women and children.

Oxfam called upon world leaders, meeting in the Netherlands today, to provide more money immediately for humanitarian relief, to radically overhaul the way they give aid to the country, and to prioritize the protection of civilians. The humanitarian emergency appeal launched last year is still less than 50 percent funded.

The health of over a million young children and half a million women is at serious risk due to malnutrition but a humanitarian rescue package is only 42 percent funded, with key sectors such as health and education less than 2 percent funded.

The agency also asked the international community to follow long-term strategies, which put the needs and wellbeing of Afghan civilians first.

Raymond C. Offenheiser, President of Oxfam America, said: "Today ministers will spend hours debating security and counter-terrorism, but the conflict is only part of the problem. The living conditions of many Afghans are deteriorating.

"Stability and prosperity will only occur if there are immediate efforts to improve the lives of ordinary Afghans. So far, the results have been inadequate.

"The response to the ongoing humanitarian situation has been slow, fragmented and insufficient. Aid has been ineffective, with too much money spent on foreign contractors or on projects that don't benefit the most vulnerable Afghans.

"If this international conference is to avert a crisis and create a workable solution, it must start by putting the future of the Afghans at the center of its agenda."

More money must go to agriculture and rural development to deal with the long-term causes of the current food crisis. For example, in Daikundi province, where half-a-million people are dependent on agriculture, the Afghan Department of Agriculture in 2007 had a budget of only $2,400 to improve farming in the area.

Offenheiser said: "Most Afghans depend on agriculture to feed their families or to make a living, but only a tiny fraction of international aid supports farming. More aid to agriculture will make Afghanistan less vulnerable to future food shortages and provide real alternatives to opium poppy cultivation."

There should also be a national strategy for ground-level peace-building and conflict resolution to make daily life safer for Afghans, Oxfam said. Peace processes must be developed at all levels, from the local and national right through to the regional.

Global aid levels—published today by the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development in London—are also minimal in comparison to the $8.4 trillion mobilized to bailout ailing banks, Oxfam said. At $173 billion, the American Insurance Group (AIG) alone has received $50 billion more than total global aid levels.

"Despite this welcome increase, aid levels remain tiny compared to the economies of rich countries—just 0.3 percent," said Max Lawson, head of development finance for Oxfam. "That is the same as it was in 1993. They have found 70 times more, $8.4 trillion, to save banks. Aid is an absolutely vital lifeline for the poorest people, especially in these brutal economic times. Far more is needed, and needed now."

"While aid alone is not enough for the poorest countries to escape the poverty trap—quality, long-term aid does make a huge difference. Poor country governments have used aid to scale up spending on education and health to help fight poverty," said Lawson. "The Tanzanian government used its aid income to offer free schooling to its primary-aged children—and now 3.5 million more children are now in school. Tanzania also used aid to strengthen its health services, helping to reduce the number of children dying in their first year of life by almost a third."

"Rich countries can come up with the money when they want to. AIG's executive bonuses alone could have paid for enough teachers for 7 million children in Africa. We need to see the G-20 move fast in London this week to rescue babies not just bankers," Lawson said.

Foreign direct investment into developing countries has collapsed by more than $700 billion since 2007—more than six times total aid levels. Remittances are also falling rapidly as unemployment rises in the rich world. Global trade has ground to a virtual halt. Aid is needed now more than ever to help the poorest countries weather the economic tsunami.

The OECD's figures show that aid has increased by 10 percent in real terms in 2008 to $120 billion. However, Sub-Saharan Africa—despite being the poorest region on earth—only saw a tiny increase of just 0.4 percent to $22.5 billion.

Most rich nations still have a mountain to climb to meet their 2005 promises to increase global aid by $50 billion by 2010, with half of this going to Africa. Italy, the G8 chair in 2009, is the worst offender. The OECD calculates that Italy will need to increase its aid spending by 145 percent to meet its promise. The shortfalls must be acknowledged and a clear timetable set to increase aid to meet pledges.

"President Obama has said that promoting development is an essential part of the strategy for Afghanistan. But our development tools need major reform if we want them to deliver results," said Raymond C. Offenheiser, president of Oxfam America.

"Our foreign aid must focus on poverty reduction and empowering Afghans to lead their own development, which is the surest way of meeting Afghan needs," said Offenheiser. "The Obama Administration has an important opportunity to enhance the effectiveness of US aid to Afghanistan—and other countries—by creating a US national strategy to support global development.

"The strategy must have clear objectives for all US foreign aid: focus on fighting poverty, streamline and coordinate all sources of US funding, and give recipients the lead in determining the needs of their communities."

The Oxfam report, Smart Development In Practice—Field Report from Afghanistan, is based on a series of interviews in Kabul with individuals involved in the delivery of US aid, including employees of the US Agency for International Development (USAID), other foreign donor contractors, consulting companies, Afghan and international nongovernmental organizations, as well as Afghan government officials.

According to interviewees, there has been limited success in part because the US uses foreign aid to achieve short-term or security objectives. The report also identifies insufficient US support for long-term capacity building and an excessive volume of funds absorbed by private contractors. Agriculture and rural trade sectors, which are critical to the daily lives of Afghans, have not received the focus and resources they require.

However, the report also highlights success stories, where development initiatives have had clear development objectives and a high level of local ownership. One example is the Afghanistan community midwifery program, started in 2002 by the government of Afghanistan, which USAID is funding.

The program, trains women as midwives to improve chances of both mother and child surviving childbirth, and has begun to reduce some of world's highest maternal and neonatal mortality rates. With the help of the program, the number of facilities with skilled female health workers increased from 39 percent in 2004 to 76 percent in 2006.

The real success of the program can be seen in the active participation of individuals and communities: there were huge number of female volunteers for the program, often supported by their fathers and husbands; and women who are trained by this program can go on to earn good salaries in health clinics around the country.

"Programs like this show how critical local ownership and engagement are to the success of foreign aid projects. If we work closely with Afghans, and ultimately give them more control over their own development initiatives, we dramatically improve the chances of achieving positive change," said Offenheiser.

But it has—four times already this year, sloshing mud through homes, polluting wells, and forcing families in this hilly Sri Lankan district of Ratnapura to flee to higher ground until the water recedes. And while they're gone, their lives are on hold: Men can't get to work, children miss school, and women labor doubly hard over household tasks in temporary quarters.

"We're sick of the floods—going here and there, cleaning, interrupting children's education and livelihoods," said Renuka Damayanthi, a 35-year-old mother. "We have to re-organize and rebuild again and again."

There may be no worthier a place for developing a plan to reduce the risk of disasters than here in the small villages tucked into the undergrowth along the Kalu River. And there may be no women more able to help with that task than those who have evacuated their homes as many times as these women have, scurrying to gather the few household goods they know their families will need to survive. And now, with the increased frequency of those floods hinting at climate change, the need to find ways to cut down on the trouble they cause is more urgent than ever.

How involved have women become in efforts to reduce the chance their families and neighbors will run into serious difficulties from floods and landslides? And what might be holding the women back?

Those are among the central questions in a new piece of research aimed at influencing how governments think about long-lasting ways for keeping people, their assets, and their means of earning a living safe—especially in places prone to beatings from Mother Nature. In the language of the experts, that safe-keeping is known as disaster risk reduction, or DRR. Carried out by the Institute for Participatory Interaction Development and funded by Oxfam, the research is directed at promoting equal participation of both men and women in these new disaster-related initiatives.

"Women are the ones mostly affected by disaster—and the most vulnerable—and the response system isn't sensitive to looking into women's needs," said Indira Aryaratne, the lead researcher for the study, which focuses on six areas within two districts of Sri Lanka.

The research was spurred by the 2004 tsunami, as was a new countrywide focus on disaster management. But around the communities of Muwagama and Haldolla, that effort has been slow to materialize—as Aryaratne discovered in the course of meeting with scores of villagers. In Haldolla, for instance, officials called a meeting in 2006 to begin organizing a local disaster management program and to appoint people to a variety of subcommittees, but that's as far as it went. Villagers haven't met since to discuss the initiative.

"It will take a long time to internalize a strong community role in disaster risk reduction," said D. Wicramaarachi, the government official in charge of a small division of four villages. The concept is new, he said, and people have not yet embraced the idea that they can form committees that will play an important part in their futures.

And committees are just the beginning of the process, added Aryaratne. Disaster risk reduction has to become a way of thinking that should be reflected across the decisions a community makes for itself.

"DRR is a way of life," said Aryaratne. "It's not a one-off activity. Just forming a committee is not going to serve any purpose."

Ideas abound

Slow as communities may be to organize formally around the concept, women—and men—in water-logged communities have plenty of ideas about what steps need to be taken to improve the safety and security of their families. Encouraging their direct participation in her research, Aryaratne has gathered a host of suggestions from villagers. She intends to share them with government officials and other stakeholders at a workshop.

On a hot afternoon in Haldolla, villagers came to participate in one of Aryaratne's focus groups. From large sheets of brown paper taped to the wall in the Haldolla community center, they took turns reading off their ideas for coping with the floods. Among the proposals the women had was the creation of a communal farm on land above flood level where they could grow vegetables to ensure their families had food. They asked to receive first-aid training that would focus specifically on medical problems related to floods, such as water-borne diseases. And they suggested constructing a bridge over a section of the river that would allow everyone easy access out of the area.

A short distance away, in Muwagama, women have also been thinking a lot about the flooding and how to better manage their lives around it. A group of them recently petitioned the local authorities for a boat to use during emergencies. They have also formed their own women's committee and have asked the government to authorize the committee to distribute relief food to flood victims, thereby ensuring that all local families in need get help.

Figuring out ways to cope with the inevitable is just one part of ensuring safety in areas like Muwagama. Being aware of the risks in living there is another. And whether villagers call it disaster risk reduction or not, knowing when rains will fall is key to preparing for them. The Singhalese New Year, which comes in April, is part of their calculation: a month and a half later the monsoon arrives.

"They know that after 45 days, there will be a flood," said Wicramaarachi, the local government official. "That's the traditional knowledge."

New problems need new solutions

But traditional knowledge may now be butting up against climate change, demanding new ways of dealing with old problems.

"There have been changes in climate in the last five years. Massive floods used to happen every five years, but now it's 2008 and we've already faced four major floods," said Wicramaarachi.

Some also suspect that an increase in sand mining along river banks and on steep slopes surrounding the area could be adding to the flooding problem.

There have been so many floods lately that Damayanthi, the young mother from Muwagama, now no longer bothers to unpack the household goods she usually takes with her during evacuations. She has left them in satchels, ready to grab for the next time.

But so far, none of those times have been as bad as the terrible flood of 2003. One man in Haldolla said the water during that disaster reached as high as the electrical wires strung high overhead on poles along the road.

That was the flood that washed away K.G. Kandawathie's home next to the river—the one she had built with 12 years worth of savings from her job as house maid for a Korean family. She built a second home in the same location but now, with the recent series of floods, Kandawathie, 60, is feeling the strain.

"The best thing is to move away," she said.

For many people that won't be possible, and that's why embracing the concept of disaster risk reduction may be the smartest alternative for the Kalu River communities.

"If you can do something about the flooding that's the best idea," said Damayanthi, who is already sold on the concept. "Even if it's out of our control, we can reduce the damage."

As the son of a Sri Lankan fisherman—and the first from his village ever to attend university—Fernando knows well what it means to work hard. That has been one of the defining elements of his life. But little did he know that when he left his position as a deputy director in Sri Lanka's Ministry of Agriculture he would soon become Oxfam's point man in Matara helping to revitalize the local coir industry, which turns the fiber from coconut shells into ropes, mats, and other products.

It was the tsunami that changed all his plans.

After 22 years with the Ministry of Agriculture, Fernando had retired at age 55, as many in government service do—to work longer requires permission—and had found another post, a lucrative one, in the private sector. But within days he realized it was not for him: bribery was one of the job requirements.

"I was shocked by it," he said, and, with the blessing of his wife, promptly gave his notice. Home, with its two acres of land in Kalutara district, beckoned instead.

"I started a little farm," said Fernando. "I had plantains, goats, and chickens."

Then the wave hit. His house was spared—it was far enough inland—but the coastal home he had grown up in, and which he had just restored for other family members, was swept away.

"Everybody got out—thank God," said Fernando, including his elderly father who, at 89, was saved by some youths who scooped him up in a plastic chair and carried him to safety in a church.

Right away Fernando jumped into the relief effort, working with a German organization that was assisting children affected by the disaster.

"I was helping them and I was very happy," Fernando recalled, and that's when he saw an ad Oxfam had placed for a livelihoods assistant in Matara—and applied. He had to convince the hiring committee, however, that he was the right man for the job. Why would a man from the upper echelons of Sri Lankan government service with decades of professional experience want to take the post of an assistant?

The answer was simple and unarguable.

"I want to serve," Fernando remembered explaining. "I have come from a fishing village. I'll help the same people."

They are the people, like his mother, whose early influence on his life set the standard that has guided him ever since.

"My mother was very pious and economical and good with saving," said Fernando. "Even though we didn't have money, she had money. Even today I can't believe my mother, on my father's meager earnings, had money."

Now, engaged with the coir workers, Fernando is helping other women in similar circumstances slowly build some financial security for their families—a mission that speaks to the core of who he is. The coir project, known as the Poor Women's Economic Leadership Coir Program, has helped save its members from exploitation by middle men. It has found them new markets for their coir products and introduced labor-saving equipment. Most of all, it has helped women build unity, through self-help groups and a newly formed federation that will make them a force to be reckoned with.

"I have very good job satisfaction working with these people," Fernando said. "I am happy we have empowered them. They can do anything they wish. And their living standards are becoming better."

What about this project makes him the most proud?

"Having the opportunity to work with the women," said Fernando. "They have the courage and interest to do better in society."

Watching her in action, in her long orange tunic, it's clear that Aryarathne has found her calling—far from where she began in a Sri Lankan architectural firm working on designs for multi-national companies.

How did she wind up here, near the Kalu River in the Ratnapura district of Sri Lanka, helping women think about how to keep their families safe and ease the constant hardship that flooding brings?

The answer starts with her heart

"I always had a passion to do something for people who are less privileged than me," says Aryarathne. During her university years—as she was working toward her goal of becoming an architect—she couldn't help but think about the community outside the institution's walls: It was impoverished and yet the development of the university had done little to address that poverty. That fact bothered her deeply.

But it wasn't until Aryarathne landed her first architectural job that she got the chance to tackle that kind of injustice herself. Her firm won a contract to develop a Colombo laundry facility—a place where scores of people manually wash clothes and linens on a large scale for clients such as hotels and hospitals. The laundry sat on prime property that a multi-national company wanted to develop—and the city had agreed to let it go ahead in exchange for the corporation's commitment to build a replacement facility.

The design of that new facility fell to Aryarathne. And right from the beginning she followed the instincts that led her to where she is now: a consultant and trainer working with poor and marginalized people who have a great deal to say about how to improve their lives, but little opportunity to be heard.

Warned that the washers could become unruly and that she should be careful, Aryarathne visited the old laundry facility. Instead of being afraid, she found herself deep in conversation with the people there—after telling them the truth about the construction proposal. If it happens, she asked, what would they like a new facility to include?

The floodgates opened, and though she didn't know it then, Aryarathne had her first exhilarating experience with participatory action research—a method of working with communities on problems whose solutions they will own. At that first laundry meeting, she learned everything about their work, from soaking and soaping, to boiling and hammering.

"That was my first exposure to a community—and it was really good," said Aryarathne. "I knew they had a lot to tell me and all that my boss had said was not true."

Soon after followed other participatory architectural projects, and gradually Aryarathne came to see where her real interests lay: With people working on initiatives that will improve their lives.

Fourteen years ago—leaving behind years of training and a budding architectural career—she made the shift from the private sector into the development world. And she hasn't looked back.

"This is more satisfying than architecture," says Aryarathne.

In the small community building in Ratnapura, the session with community members comes to an end. Aryarathne looks thoughtful as she folds up the charts she has just made with their help—charts that list the problems associated with flooding and some of the solutions villagers have proposed. She will compile the findings for an Oxfam-supported study aimed at promoting equal participation of both men and women in programs to reduce their risk of disaster.

"Architects are at the service of rich people," said Aryarathne later. "Just as you cater to multi-millionaires, villagers need our services, too."

On this hot August morning in a small fishing village on Sri Lanka's southern coast, he is probing locals for a full understanding of what well-being means to them. He remains serene as they squabble a bit, call each other liars, and offer up whole new categories no one has mentioned before. When a group of men can't agree on a set of criteria, he announces a tie and allows both points to become part of the findings.

Such is the life of a researcher engaged in the ebb and flow of a study that allows its authors to enter into a direct dialogue with the community they are focusing on. The approach is called participatory action research—a method Weerackody believes in deeply. He is applying it to a piece of research intended to expand the understanding of mental health issues in Sri Lankan communities affected by natural disasters or long-term conflict. Funded partially by Oxfam, the study is part of a large, four-year project conducted by investigators from McGill University. This piece is being carried out by the People's Rural Development Association, McGill's local partner.

"People are never given a chance to participate in the decision-making process," says Weerackody. "And this is what we need"

That lesson became all too clear in an earlier study he had helped to conduct on the impact of the aid system on communities affected by the tsunami. People received goods that weren't relevant to their lives, that were of poor quality, that weren't useful, says Weerackody—all because no one had bothered to consult with the communities themselves.

"It's about attitude and the way the colonial system was established," he adds. That system says decisions should be made by technical experts or politicians. "They think people don't know what they want."

Weerackody thinks otherwise.

"If it is decided by someone else, people don't have any feeling it is part of their lives," he says. And aid agencies have enough experience building roads, community halls, culverts, and the like to know quite well what will happen if beneficiaries aren't involved from the start: As nice as the facilities are, they won't be maintained, says Weerackody.

A relocated fishing village in which he has been conducting research recently offers a case in point. The hillside homes, sturdy but small, now house 55 families formerly living near the sea, and a newly built community center at the top of the hill serves as gathering place for all.

"They have a house but they're not happy," says Weerackody. "That house was not spacious. They can't entertain their relatives. They don't have enough place to sleep. One woman said she can't even make love with her husband. The lesson we learn from the study is you may design houses, but what's needed by development workers is to take into consideration other aspects of well-being."

From a rural community himself, Weerackody, who has been working in participatory development since 1982, says he takes pleasure in meeting with local people to learn about their opinions and needs—an important perspective to understand since so much of the country's population is rural. About 80 percent of Sri Lankans live in rural areas, Weerackody points out. And whenever he's got a free moment, he heads out of Colombo, Sri Lanka's capital and his current home, to visit the village in which he was raised.

"I have a strong belief in community consultation," he says. "Development workers should respect the communities and should win the trust and confidence of communities."

Until then, the Dhan Foundation had never been involved in disaster response. But when the team got back to Tamil Nadu, they learned something new: that people engaged in Dhan Foundation's long-term savings groups and federations had been the first to respond to the tsunami in their communities.

"They had the networks and the resources they needed to respond," says R. Sangeetha, who at the time was a faculty member at Tata-Dhan. This gave the team an idea: Dhan could respond to the tsunami in the coastal areas, but not just for the short term.

"Instead, we decided to commit to working there on a long-term basis," said Sangeetha, to provide relief and rehabilitation, but also to reduce the risks and vulnerabilities of those communities to future disasters. Oxfam helped the Tata-Dhan Academy take this commitment a step further, supporting them to create the Advanced Center for Enabling Disaster Risk Reduction (ACEDRR), an institute within the academy that helps communities that participate in Dhan's development programs reduce the risk that a disaster will undo their hard-won gains against poverty. Sangeetha became the coordinator of the center.

The goal, says Sangeetha, is to "help development professionals to see every development action in a disaster risk reduction perspective."

A life of caring

People her whole life told Sangeetha that she would thrive in a service job, working with the very poor, and she agrees. "It's in my nature," she says.

She studied agricultural management at university, and decided to take a two-year job in social work to see if she liked it.

Her first job was with a tribal community in the north of the country. She lights up when she remembers it. "I loved it there," she says. "You would always find me in the communities, playing with the children or talking to people. I never wanted to leave at the end of the day."

It was early in her tenure there that she observed some children playing ball, and one girl sitting out. She asked the girl why she wasn't playing. "She said she had cancer in her legs," says Sangeetha. "The other children knew she had cancer, too. But no one knew what it meant to have cancer."

Sangeetha knew that cancer untreated would be deadly, and took it upon herself to get the child the care she needed. But when she took her to the hospital, she got some terrible news: The girl would have to lose her legs.

Sangeetha fights tears discussing this experience, even so many years later.

She counseled the family and the community, who were skeptical of harsh medical interventions like this one. Eventually, though, they decided to opt for surgery. "It was a very hard time," Sangeetha says. "I was with her every day in the hospital."

Now, seven years later, the child is 17 and healthy. Sangeetha has done her best to keep in touch the girl and her family, though it's been at least a year since she's heard anything. That experience made her decide to continue helping people as best she could.

Of her career choice, Sangeetha says "it's such hard work, but it's such important work. Even if you just help one person, it's worthwhile."

"And everyone here feels the same way," she says, gesturing to the Tata-Dhan Academy. "They all care so much. That is why this is such a wonderful place to be."