It’s the kind of place Oxfam America and its partner, Asociación Proyección, are working in now—at nearly 16,000 feet above sea level in air so thin that newcomers lose their breath and no other aid agencies have the fortitude to venture.
The place is the district of Caylloma, and the people who live here are alpaca herders. Oxfam’s mission is to make sure that when trouble does come—as it has in the past and surely will again because of the changing weather patterns families in these Andean hamlets are already grappling with—they will be prepared to cope.
Three years ago, after a severe cold snap wiped out tens of thousands of llamas and alpacas across Peru’s southern highlands, Oxfam and Proyección joined forces to find a way to prevent a repeat of the suffering people experienced then. Their proposal—a form of disaster risk reduction—included a range of self-help ideas, a smattering of technology, and the most important tool of all: planning.
Today, acres of barley now grow on the slopes—a buffer against food shortages for livestock. New adobe sheds with metal roofs stand in some of the coldest mountain pockets, offering critical shelter for alpacas that had none before. Gravity-fed sprinklers irrigate enclosed pastures of rye grass, guaranteeing a steady source of nourishment for animals. And a handful of radio towers dot the district, connecting far-flung hamlets with the world at large.
Simon Ccalachua, who lives in the little village of Jachaña, put it this way. Without this project, nothing would have changed for him and his family. They had no choice but to accept what nature brought, good or bad. If the cold came, their animals died. But now, armed with new ways of growing the grasses their alpacas need and a way to shelter them, families like Ccalachua’s can overcome the troubles nature brings—on their own.
For Arturo Rivera Vigil, a field coordinator for Proyección, the importance of equipping people with tools to solve their own problems was a lesson he learned the hard way, and one he vowed to share with Caylloma.
Working in another region of Peru during a different emergency, Proyección decided that the best approach would be to provide direct aid to the families in need. So the agency purchased vast quantities of dried alfalfa to help feed the livestock on which those families depended. But that commodity was in short supply because of the emergency, and instantly, its price nearly tripled. Nevertheless, Proyección moved ahead with its plan, delivering tons of alfalfa to the troubled communities. But when the supplies arrived, Proyección learned there was no place in which to store it all.
“We realized we weren’t teaching anything to the communities,” Rivera said. When the cold snap paralyzed Caylloma, Proyección and Oxfam decided to take a longer-term approach—and find sustainable solutions to the problems rather than offer a temporary fix.
But that decision required a new way of looking at the situation: Could there possibly be things communities could do to prepare for disasters at such high altitudes?
“The typical thinking was people living up so high were so remote and had their own culture and own system of raising animals,” said Rivera. “No one thought they could help them, and no one thought anything could grow up that high.”
Proyección and Oxfam proved them wrong.
“We came here because the local government asked us to come, and when we suggested planting barley, everyone said we were crazy,” Rivera told a crowd during a recent ceremony at the Caylloma town hall honoring the project’s high-altitude accomplishments for 355 families. “Three years later, here we are.”
Oxfam and Proyección have helped Caylloma take solid first steps towards addressing a problem that is all too familiar to poor people living in precarious places around the world: When something goes wrong in their environment, they suffer the most.
Cataclysmic events—deep freezes, drought, floods, earthquakes, volcanic eruptions—only turn into disasters when people get caught in them and have few means for managing the consequences. That has been the case in the Caylloma district.
From the hamlet of Chinosiri, for instance, it’s an all-day walk down to the town of Caylloma for help. When the storm hit, assistance didn’t arrive for a week. In sturdy, four-wheel trucks, it’s a three-hour drive from Caylloma to Chinosiri along a rutted track that snakes in hairpin turns up the sides of ridges and back down through streams.
Even at the end of the summer the weather at this height is harsh. Thunder rolls over the mountain plains as hail ricochets off the stony ground. At higher elevations, snow blankets the thin pastures.
Far from one another stand tiny dwellings, made of stone or adobe with thatched roofs. Inside, small fires burn. There is not a tree or bush in sight for fuel, so families make do with dung and Ichu, a spiky grass that livestock will only eat when it’s young and tender.
Widespread poverty across the region means that beyond elementary school, there are few opportunities for learning. Students determined enough to attend one of only two high schools in the province wrestle with a good deal of hardship in pursuit of that dream. The son of Jose Gonzalez Condo, now in his second year of high school, walks four hours to get there in the morning, and another four to return home at the end of the day.
For Gonzalez, the effort his son is making is worth every step: An education will give the boy the tools he needs to live a better life—not necessarily far away in a city, but right here in Chinosiri, perhaps.
With the uncertainty that lies ahead for herding families in Caylloma, education is an important asset and it has been a component of Oxfam’s and Proyección’s disaster risk reduction program. For example, the agencies have produced a series of colorful guides on storm alert systems, the construction of livestock sheds, and improving the use of water resources.
Lately, families have begun to worry about shifting patterns of rain that are affecting the growth rate of the grasses on which their animals feed. The rains are supposed to fall in November, but for the past two or three years, they haven’t come until January, stunting the progress of the grasses. That in turn prevents them from dropping their seeds to start a new round of growth before the May ice season arrives.
Having the means to cope with the consequences of those changes—stores of barley, irrigated pastures—will go a long way toward easing the hardships people would otherwise face. And that explains the enthusiasm with which the mayor of Caylloma has embraced this disaster risk reduction project.
“A project like this can be applied to the whole province,” said Simón Quispe Chipa, the mayor. “This project has been a real motivation for the whole town.”
]]>"Caylloma. Caylloma. Caylloma," he says into the mic, and over the airwaves, not slowed for a moment by mud or steep ridges or gushing streams, comes the scratchy answer—accompanied by a big mayoral smile.
This is Chinosiri's new radio, one of four Oxfam America and its partner, Asociación Proyección, have installed in remote mountain hamlets around Caylloma following a devastating cold snap and heavy snow three years ago. The storm lasted five days, dumping nearly three feet of snow in the highlands, paralyzing families of alpaca herders who make their living there, and killing the grasses on which their precious animals feed. In some of the remotest communities, help didn't arrive for 10 days.
Now, for the 70 families living close to 16,000 feet above sea level in Chinosiri, calls for emergency aid can be broadcast instantly. And on the receiving end, storm alerts, picked up via the new radio, may soon give residents of the hamlet and their far-flung neighbors a chance to get ready.
"We can keep communications with authorities both ways," says Jaime Condori Inca, Chinosiri's 27-year-old radio operator whose job it is to establish contact twice a day—at 7 a.m. and again at 7 p.m.—with the world far below his hamlet.
The radio network is part of an early warning system that is helping 355 families scattered throughout the Caylloma district prepare for future emergencies.
Training has included the compilation of a list of natural signs—much like a farmer's almanac—that could indicate a pending change in weather. What can you expect when the sky is pink in the afternoon? Frost. If you should hear a sheep bleating at night, snow is surely on its way. And about that black lizard: its color announces plentiful rain. But if the lizard is white, the rain may be in short supply.
Gleaned from generations of herders' experiences with the harsh conditions in the Andes, the list now appears in a colorful training guide published by Oxfam and Proyección and distributed widely among Caylloma residents. But as weather patterns begin to shift—during the last three years, for instance, November rains didn't come until January—mountain families need new ways of understanding their environment. And that's where the radio comes in.
With it, Condori can send details about daily changes in the local weather to a national repository that collects meteorological data as part of a long-term tracking initiative. Caylloma is working with the Meteorologist National Services and the ministry of Agriculture on the project. Environmental details are gathered with the help of a small weather station—a sturdy white box with a thermometer mounted inside—that stands just behind the radio hut. It's checked daily and the temperature, along with noticeable precipitation, is carefully recorded on a chart next to the radio.
Across the highland plains, in the hamlet of Jachaña, sits a second radio, which in turn connects with another in Chinosiri and with a fourth one in the Caylloma town hall. It's here that Proyección has a small emergency operations center equipped with a computer, a printer, first-aid supplies, and a list of all the relevant radio frequencies.
Small though the radio network may be, it represents a major step forward for Caylloma—and is testament to the commitment of the entire district. Families arranged, for instance, to carry parts of the Chinosiri weather station up the mountainsides on the backs of llamas.
"The people from every community got involved," said Danny Gibbons, Oxfam America's communications officer in Lima. "They shared the burden."
Additionally, the radio network has helped people communicate about other emergencies such as health crises and alpaca rustling as well as improved coordination among different levels of government.
]]>Recovering the coffee crop is not a quick endeavor. In the majority of cases it will be three or four years until the harvest is at its normal level. And cleaning up the destroyed plots of land also takes time. It is an additional task that the coffee growers had to undertake in the moments when they weren't tending to the crops spared by the storm.
The first cooperative we visited was ASUVIM, in the province of Quetzaltenango, where we spoke with the president of the cooperative, Daniel Balux. The principle problem this cooperative faced was that nearly 30 percent of its harvest was affected by black bean, a deformation of the coffee bean that cannot be seen when the coffee is harvested, but only once it is dried. It changes the color and the taste of the coffee, disqualifying it from the gourmet and fair trade markets.
Can you tell us about the black bean problem?
Actually, we detected it here at the mill. We saw that we had black beans, but we didn't think it was so extensive, we thought it was just the first beans. But as we continued with the harvest it was the same. It was the whole harvest. The coffee looked good as parchment coffee but if we look at them all—the ones with a different color, they are black beans. We can't say that our members brought in bad coffee, because the cherries looked good, they didn't even look a little rotten or anything like that. The coffee was good. You can't say to the people, look, bring us better coffee or chose it better—[but] of course when they cup this coffee the cuppers will say it is green coffee, coffee that didn't reach its full maturity. So the aid for the black bean was something necessary [to compensate for the low price]. So, what did we do after all this? Well, thanks to the help that came from you, at least the members got their normal price. At least we could say to them, 'Look, the coffee was shipped at this price, but we are going to help you a little bit and we are going to pay you this much.' The people saw that at least there was an effort behind all this."
In addition to this monetary compensation that was given to the members, what other actions did ASUVIM take to overcome the crisis?
Here 60 percent of what people earn comes from coffee. If there are problems with the coffee, there are problems in the families. Either there is little schooling, or people are unable to complete projects they had planned or there isn't much food. Here in ASUVIM we also helped out with corn. We gave each member 800 pounds of corn. Part of it we donated, the other part the members had to buy. Each family of six consumes about 1,600 pounds of corn per year. [They lost 80 percent of the harvest.] What happened with the 20 percent that they were left with? They ate it in January, maybe into February, but by March they had to buy corn. Then the problem is that when there is high demand for corn, the price rises. So we helped them with this, with 800 pounds. We think it's 50 percent of the corn they eat, we could now say that at least they had corn to eat.
The other damage we suffered as an organization is related to the landslide here next to the patio where we sun dry the coffee. With the rain, little by little, we were losing more of it. So we were faced with an emergency. Either we did something or our patio would collapse. And the more time that passed, the worse it was. So we received aid from Oxfam America because the construction is big. But it was necessary because if we lose the patio, it'd be an additional expense.. We are still constructing, but we are making the wall. We aren't doing something that is simply going to fall apart next year and then we would have to invest in it all over again. We want to invest, to spend and if that means chipping in ourselves, we do it.
]]>We were there, together with Angel Chavez, one of Oxfam America’s humanitarian officers, to gather stories about Oxfam’s work with alpaca herders. They had suffered serious losses in 2004 when a severe winter storm killed many of the wooly creatures that are the backbone of the local economy. So vital are these camel cousins to the well-being of the families scattered across the mountains that many of the shelters they have built for the animals are superior to their own mud-brick and stone homes.
The income from alpaca wool—softer than cashmere when it’s cleaned, spun, and woven—feeds and clothes families, buys them medicine, and helps cover the occasional extraordinary expense. Without the few hundred dollars herders earn each year from the sale of the wool, life in these barren, thin-aired mountains would not be possible for them. And for many, it’s the only life they have ever known, helping to account for Peru’s position as the world’s top producer—by far—of alpaca wool.
About 80 percent of the wool now on the market comes from this South American country; Bolivia produces another 15 percent; and the rest comes from a smattering of countries including Australia, Switzerland, and England. So you would think, given Peru’s dominance in the industry, that the work of these Caylloma herders would guarantee their families a measure of security. Not so.
There, at nearly 16,000 feet above sea level, nothing is certain: The cold kills, and changing weather patterns are robbing the region of the rain it needs for mountain pastures to grow. Life is hard, and people are very poor.
Oxfam’s work with Proyección has been to help Caylloma herders find ways to buffer themselves against future disasters by improving pastureland; planting barley to serve as an emergency reserve for their animals; and developing an early alert system, including the installation of a simple radio network—all at an altitude that has scared off just about every other aid group.
“Nobody has worked at this height,” said Rivera. “No one wants to come up here. Only us.”
There’s a reason: To reach Caylloma’s remote communities requires a degree of energy that would exhaust a lesser field coordinator and his team. But for Rivera, that challenge—and the need that is so evident among the families of this rugged terrain—is the inspiration that repeatedly draws him up the steep slopes to Chinosiri, Jachaña, and a handful of other hamlets.
From Arequipa, a city in southern Peru where Proyección has its offices, the drive in a pair of heavy-duty pickup trucks to the town of Caylloma took us about seven hours through rain, hail, and snow on a rutted mountain road—and that was just the first half of the journey. Following a night’s rest, we left at 6 a.m. for the three-hour climb to Chinosiri, the belly of our truck scraping the ruts as we inched around hairpin turns and splashed through streams carving gullies in the dirt track.
The snow was falling in fat, wet flakes, blanketing the mountains in white, when Rivera, in the truck ahead, pulled over and jumped out, signaling that this—of all high and remote spots—was just the place for a group picture.
“Beautiful!” he said, surveying the vast emptiness around us: no trees, no bushes, no dwellings—only mountains and more mountains with sharp rocks underfoot.
It wasn’t until I scrambled up the slippery bank to where Rivera and Chavez were already standing in the snow that I realized just how hard the work in Caylloma could be: Without the sea-level amounts of oxygen I was used to, a few quick steps at 15,748 feet high left me breathless and exhausted. Puffing hard, I slipped back down the embankment and into the truck, grateful to be sitting once again, and marveling at the stamina of my colleagues. Could I do this, like them, on a regular basis? Could anybody?
Rivera had already answered that question: No.
The air at the end of this Andean summer was cold and damp, and all of us in the pair of trucks were bundled in just about every stitch of clothing we had brought. I had on two shirts, a sweater, a fleece vest, a fleece jacket, a down vest, a windbreaker, thick wool socks, and a wool cap—just enough to keep the chill at bay.
So I was surprised to see, beyond the steamed windows of the warm truck, two boys hiking hard and fast through the mud on a slope of pasture: They had only sandals on their feet—no shoes, no socks to keep the cold away. They’re boys, I thought, and that’s what boys do: tough things.
But as we bounced along, there were others—men, women, children—all wearing sandals in the frigid air. And as the clouds swept across the sky, occasionally unleashing a shower of cold rain, some of the mountain dwellers hardly seemed to notice, and simply wrapped themselves tight in their woolen blankets and ponchos.
Jose Gonzalez Condo, who has lived all of his 39 years in the tiny community of Chinosiri, explained that he and his fellow villagers are used to the mountain weather and its variable conditions. Chinosiri is home, he said, and he likes it.
But as weather patterns have begun to change—the rains are coming late, which in turn delays the growth of pasture grasses and threatens the health of herds—raising alpacas at this altitude has become increasingly difficult, said Gonzalez. And in the recent past, there was no way to get the word out about challenging weather conditions—be they drought or cold waves—unless someone made the 30-mile trek down to Caylloma to ask for help. The only way to get there is on foot, and the walk takes a day.
Chinosiri’s new two-way radio, installed by Proyección in February, has connected this remotest of villages to the outside world. And with that connection has come the sliver of hope that a way of life for the 70 families there—and for more than 3,400 rural residents scattered across the Caylloma district—is now more secure.
]]>When Jacobo Ocharan, Oxfam America's new Disaster Risk Reduction Specialist, begins a training session on disaster preparedness, he sometimes asks people to close their eyes and point to the emergency exit.
"The usual results," he says, wrapping his arms into a pretzel shape and pointing in opposite directions, "are good for a laugh. But of course they also demonstrate one of the biggest challenges we face in this work: people's tendency not to focus their attention on an emergency until it's happening."
Anticipating emergencies can save lives and vast resources, but around the world, programs to prepare for and prevent emergencies are poorly funded compared to those aimed at responding to disasters once they've happened.
"It's like a medical system that pours resources into hospital emergency rooms but neglects routine care," says Jacobo. "Of course we need emergency rooms, but it's much better to solve problems before they become catastrophic."
How do you prevent an earthquake, flood, or hurricane from becoming catastrophic?
Preparing for evacuation is one way: helping communities set up communication systems, identify or create safe places to gather, learn first aid, and carry out drills to be sure everyone knows what to do can all reduce the human impact of an emergency. (Read more about an Oxfam preparedness program.)
Easing the effects of an emergency on an affected community—a process known as mitigation—is another way of reducing disaster risks. For example, an Oxfam partner in El Salvador has helped flood-prone communities grow a variety of cashew that can survive for weeks under water. And our work to help farmers in Ethiopia create storage buildings for food and seeds is reducing the threat of food shortages in areas where frequent droughts put communities at risk.
It's also sometimes possible to prevent a natural hazard from damaging communities in the first place. Oxfam partners have helped create protective walls between villages and nearby rivers, for example, to minimize the risk that floodwaters will reach into farms and communities.
Yet preparedness, mitigation, and prevention programs on their own may not get to the heart of the matter.
"When you look at the aftermath of disasters, you quickly understand how poverty puts communities at risk." says Jacobo. He recalls a visit to Gujarat, India, after a powerful earthquake in 2001. Everywhere he went, he found that the homes of the lowest caste were flattened, while those of the highest caste barely appeared to need repairs. "Every community was a case study in the relationship between vulnerability and poverty."
Oxfam is reaching out to vulnerable communities and helping them address not only the disaster risks they face but also the poverty and discrimination that underlie those risks. Oxfam staff and partners are working to improve incomes with programs that include offering grants and loans to start up small businesses, giving job training to people who want to pursue new employment, and developing water sources to improve agricultural livelihoods.
The primary responsibility for reducing the risk of disaster, however, lies with governments, because they make the key decisions about each country?s priorities and course of development. Advocacy is therefore a key part of Oxfam's work on disaster risk reduction.
As Jacobo puts it, "People deserve a chance to raise their families in homes that are safe. It's their right, and part of our job is to help them fight for that right."
Jacobo Ocharan grew up in the midst of an armed struggle. He is Basque, and his native region has been embroiled in conflict since the Spanish Civil War. Years of watching the consequences of violent action and reaction caused Jacobo to look outward for answers. "Some of us got interested in other conflicts," he says, "to open a window on our own."
He began his professional career as a journalist but took a detour in the early 1990s to volunteer in a program in Guatemala aimed at protecting civilians who were being targeted for violence. It was there that he first learned about Oxfam, and after returning to Europe and spending several years as a reporter and radio producer, he joined the agency's staff in Kigali, Rwanda, where he worked in camps for people displaced by the 1994 genocide. Rwanda, he says, was a nation in mourning. "In a country of eight million people, one million were dead. Not by accident or bomb but by machete. So people were not just mourning but were also suspecting and blaming their neighbors."
From there he went to Nairobi, Kenya, to help coordinate Oxfam's humanitarian work related to the conflict in southern Sudan, and in 1998 he returned to Barcelona to take charge of the rapidly expanding humanitarian program of Intermón, Oxfam's Spanish affiliate. His work since then has taken him around the world, to the sites of hurricanes, floods, earthquakes, drought, and conflict.
Jacobo's experience with humanitarian response has led him to an important conclusion: "Armed conflicts and natural hazards like hurricanes have something in common: most of their disastrous impacts are avoidable." It also led him to a decision to give disaster prevention his full attention.
In October of 2006, Oxfam America welcomed Jacobo to Boston. Here he will lead efforts to improve and greatly expand Oxfam's disaster risk reduction work in the field.
"Helping communities reduce their vulnerability to disasters has always been a component of Oxfam's programs, but now we're moving that work to center stage," says Jacobo.
"Our goal is to help impoverished communities avert catastrophic losses at times of emergency. And never to lose sight of the role of poverty and discrimination as root causes of disaster."
]]>The work is part of Oxfam America's new public health initiative launched by the humanitarian response department. Its aim is to deepen the effectiveness of its emergency programs and to start building a bank of scientific data that the agency can use to advocate for changes that will improve the lives of poor people.
"Public health assessments provide true evidence of a problem, and they are a lot more effective than rhetoric in focusing attention on the issues," said Miriam Aschkenasy, an emergency medicine physician and Oxfam America's first public health specialist.
Hired in July to head the initiative, Aschkenasy will work on a variety of projects as the agency begins to map out its public health priorities and build a network of specialists who could respond in humanitarian emergencies when the need arises.
"Public health was going on, but no one was calling it public health," said Aschkenasy. "Some of the grants Oxfam awarded to partners were addressing problems such as diarrhea, HIV/AIDS, and access to care. All of these are public health issues, but they didn't fall into a particular person's portfolio. As the humanitarian response department did more of this work, it became apparent it needed someone who specialized in this area."
But Aschkenasy is not undertaking this task alone. A key component of the new program calls for collaboration between Oxfam and top medical facilities, many of which are located in Boston, the agency's headquarters. A formal partnership with the Harvard Humanitarian Initiative is the first of these relationships. The initiative, or HHI, is a joint academic program involving multiple entities within Harvard's academic and medical community. It combines expertise in public health, medicine, social science, and humanities to advance research, practice, and policy in the field of humanitarian assistance.
"Here in Boston we have access to some of the most skilled public health specialists in the world," said Michael Delaney, Oxfam's director of humanitarian response. "We give them the history, the politics, and the culture of a situation--the key ingredients to an effective humanitarian response--and they give us the voice of authority on public health matters when we meet with government officials to push for change."
Twice since last summer, teams from HHI have been dispatched to Ethiopia to quickly study a problem and make recommendations on situations in which people's lives were at grave risk.
In the first instance, an outbreak of ethnic fighting in the southern part of the country had forced tens of thousands of people to flee their homes and seek safety in the bush. Hunger, exposure to the elements, and extremely limited water supplies had begun to take a toll on many of those who had fled. Oxfam and HHI sent a small team?two doctors and a humanitarian response specialis--to conduct a rapid assessment of the situation and offer ideas for improving it.
"The humanitarian needs among the internally displaced people in both the Guji and Borena zones are significant," said Jennifer L. Chan, one of the Harvard doctors, after the visit. "At the time of the HHI/Oxfam assessment, immediate food, shelter, and non-food items were needed as well as establishment of long-term peace building activities." Oxfam had already provided some emergency assistance prior to the assessment.
Three months later, Oxfam and HHI sent a second team to Ethiopia to investigate and respond to the outbreak of cholera.
"The idea behind the assessments is to provide a superior response," said Aschkenasy. "Our affiliation with HHI does that. It provides us with a cadre of cutting edge public health professionals, academics, and their resources. And the evidence they help us gather strengthens our ability to call for change."
Aschkenasy will help lay the groundwork for some of that change when she travels to Ethiopia in mid-January on a prevention mission that may help stop a repeat of the widespread suffering that affected millions of people across East Africa last year. Their lives stood in the balance as a devastating drought gripped the region, killing the livestock on which they depended for food, drying up their water sources, and plunging countless families into debilitating hunger. By the time the extent of the drought became clear to the rest of the world, it had already caused profound damage.
In Moyale, a dusty border town between Ethiopia and Kenya, Aschkenasy and Chan will launch a drought early surveillance system developed by Oxfam America and HHI. Their goal is to help officials in the region track public health trends that will warn them in advance about which droughts could become killers. How much food do families have access to? Are they plagued by diarrhea? Do their children have respiratory problems? Do their goats, cows, and sheep have enough pasture? How much rain has fallen? Is the price of grain climbing?
They sound like simple questions, but their answers--plotted on a chart that can make trends frighteningly clear--could be key to getting people in this drought-prone region, many of whom are herders and extremely poor, the help they need before it's too late.
"If we can determine quickly what the effects of limited rainfall are, then we can start doing interventions long before things get so bad that severe malnutrition becomes widespread and feeding centers are our only recourse," said Aschkenasy.
A fellow at HHI, Aschkenasy keeps her medical skills honed by working four eight-hour shifts a month at the Boston Medical Center. But she knew long before arriving at Oxfam that public health was where her heart was.
"When I was in my second year of residency, I had a chance to go to Nepal and work in the Tribhuvan University Teaching Hospital in Kathmandu. It doesn't take you long to realize that public health has a much greater impact on people than one-on-one patient care. I also realized how much I loved it," said Aschkenasy. "There's a role for one-on-one clinical care, and I enjoy it. But there's something much more satisfying about public health work. It has a broader impact. You're preventing something from happening."
And that's a central objective for Oxfam?s humanitarian response department: preventing events--natural or man-made--from cascading into disasters.
"Public health ties right in with our preparedness and livelihoods work. That triad is what development is all about," said Aschkenasy.
]]>This land is dotted by native conifers and flowering rhododendrons, but through the years outsiders have come to exploit timber and other natural resources. Deforestation has led to landslides, and landslides have threatened villagers' crops and homes.
In the past, the plans and activities of the county government and the needs of the local people, mostly Tibetans, were not coordinated. When problems arose, the right solutions were hard to come by. Oxfam America worked to change that.
First, the research. Oxfam partner organization CBIK, the Center for Biodiversity and Indigenous Knowledge, has helped local government officials, academics, non-governmental organization (NGO) workers, school teachers, and villagers conduct research on issues related to their environment and development.
Then the sharing. CBIK has worked to share the research among the participants, creating multi-stakeholder forums where government officials sit down with local residents to discuss topics as varied as: animal husbandry, the collection of non-timber forest products such as mushrooms, water resource management, land use management, and even Tibetan medicine.
The forums give participants the opportunity to discuss issues of concern, and have inspired new projects in response to the issues raised.
After one multi-stakeholder forum, Jiabi villagers and county government officials agreed that a new dike needed to be built along a stream that flows through their village. The dike will guard against flooding, erosion and landslides, and help ensure that the people have access to a reliable source of water.
Instead of the government hiring an outside company to build the dyke—a typical solution in the past—the villagers built it themselves. The county government gave them financial and technical support.
"The old dike, built by a private company from outside, was so weak a small monkey could knock it down. But the dike we built is strong," said Riqing Pinchu, the head of Jiabi Village. "We used to wait for the government to come to us, but now we can take responsibility for our own development."
The county government learned that involving civil society—not always an easy concept in China—has its benefits. "When villagers participate in their own development and prioritize their needs, we get greater buy-in and can increase their capacity at the same time," said Lurong Yixi, the county director for minority affairs.
Experience has taught the Jiabi villagers an important lesson—their natural resources sustain their lives, so they must protect them. And by collaborating with the government, sharing their collective knowledge, and using venues such as the multi-stakeholder forums they can make decisions about their own future.
]]>On January 13, 2001, a powerful earthquake shook El Salvador. In San José Costa Rica, houses collapsed, many residents suffered broken bones, and a four-year-old girl was killed. The main road was destroyed, so for a time the community was cut off from outside help.
In the aftermath of the 2001 earthquake, Oxfam teamed up with local partner REDES with the goal of helping Costa Rica and many other Salvadoran communities prevent future earthquakes, hurricanes, and other natural events from becoming full-scale disasters.
The REDES program in Costa Rica is grounded in a community emergency committee whose members have taken charge of evacuation, communications, shelter, first aid, and other key tasks. After mapping out the risks and resources of the village, REDES and the committee developed an emergency-response plan designed to ensure that everyone—including those living in hazardous locations and people with limited mobility—could reach safety in the early hours of an emergency. A two-way radio was installed, providing the community with access to the REDES base, which is staffed 24 hours a day to handle emergency communications. REDES trained community members in first aid and other skills that are essential for first responders, and the community held drills to simulate emergencies.
In October of 2005, Hurricane Stan pounded El Salvador and put Costa Rica's preparations to the test. High winds, heavy rains, landslides, and washed-out roads that isolated the village all portended tragedy, yet the town suffered no deaths or serious injuries. At a gathering of the community's emergency committee and Oxfam and REDES staff, we heard about what happened from the people who lived through it.
As quickly as possible after the hurricane struck, Claudia Dalila Sánchez, who headed up the evacuation committee, led her team on a tour of the community. They evacuated people trapped by landslides and caught in other precarious situations, and they monitored the rising waters of Lago de Ilopango. "When the earthquake happened, we didn't know enough," she said. "For Stan, we had better information about how to take people out of danger."
"In both the 2001 earthquake and Hurricane Stan, the roads were destroyed so no vehicles could come in," explained Miguel Martínez, San José Costa Rica's emergency committee coordinator. "But the difference with Stan was that we were organized. After the earthquake, people didn't have the consciousness to help each other, but after Stan, the community was united. We scheduled turns so people could work on the road, and in a short time, we were able to clear it."
Carmen Sosa is a shy woman who waited until all seven of the committee leaders had spoken before telling her story. "During the earthquake, we didn't know what to do. My house fell. My husband was hurt by a roof tile that fell on his head. And since I didn't know what to do, I just cried. I saw all my things destroyed and thought, 'This is it. I don't have anything left.' But since REDES has given us training, we now know what we can do in these cases."
Carmen concluded with a self-assured smile that left us feeling that something about this program—either the new skills she's learned or the knowledge that she no longer has to face emergencies alone—has added a measure of confidence to her life.
Oxfam's partners work in many communities around the country, helping them take charge effectively at times of emergency. But our program goes far beyond teaching the nuts and bolts of emergency response: one of our partners co-authored a law that has created a role for communities in El Salvador's national system of disaster preparedness and response, and which requires for the first time that disaster preparedness be incorporated into development planning.
"We are working to help impoverished communities gain both the skills and the voice in the political process that they need to prevent future emergencies from becoming disasters," says Michael Delaney, Oxfam America's Director of Humanitarian Response. "So far, signs point to success."
Working through REDES and other partners, Oxfam America's disaster risk reduction programs in El Salvador are now reaching an estimated 200,000 people.
]]>June 1 marks the start of the new hurricane season, but throughout Mississippi and Louisiana, public officials have made little effort to include the region’s poorest families and struggling workers in plans to recover from last year’s back-to-back disasters.
Hurricanes Katrina and Rita hit the region’s most vulnerable people hardest. They had the fewest resources on which to fall back, yet they are benefiting the least from the billions of federal dollars being spent on the recovery. Without a solid investment in affordable housing for the coast’s working poor, the potential destruction from a new round of storms could undermine the entire recovery process.
To date, nearly half the Mississippi Gulf Coast residents slammed by the storm are excluded from the state’s plan for using $3 billion in community development block grants. Many of them are renters and uninsured homeowners whose dwellings were outside the flood plain. They include children, elderly people, and disabled residents.
Of the 204,000 housing units in Louisiana destroyed or severely damaged by Katrina and Rita, 41 percent of them were occupied by renters. The state’s Road Home plan for $10.4 billion in federal assistance proposes spending 61 percent of that on homeowner-related programs, or $6.3 billion. Affordable housing and rental-related programs, on the other hand, are slated to get just 15 percent of the total, or $1.5 billion.
“To protect people from disaster, you need to protect them from deepening poverty, too,” said Oxfam President Raymond C. Offenheiser. “If the Gulf Coast is serious about preventing future disasters, it should start by making sure there is affordable, safe housing for all its residents. Poor people need to be at the center of every recovery effort.”
Oxfam America is a non-profit organization that works to end global poverty through saving lives, strengthening communities, and campaigning for change. Active on the Gulf Coast for the last 13 years, the agency made a decision after Katrina to launch its first major humanitarian response within the United States.
Since September, Oxfam has provided close to $1 million in grant support to local leaders and community groups, including those in Gulfport and Biloxi, Mississippi, and Plaquemines, Terrebonne, and Jefferson parishes in Louisiana. Oxfam has helped these local partners develop resources that will provide enduring improvements to the infrastructures of vulnerable and impoverished communities in both Mississippi and Louisiana.
]]>Cuba is a case study in successful disaster risk reduction. At the national level, Cuba's disaster legislation, public education on disasters, meteorological research, early warning system, effective communication system for emergencies, comprehensive emergency plan, and Civil Defense structure are important resources in avoiding disaster. At the local level, high levels of literacy, developed infrastructure in rural areas and access to reliable health care are crucial for national efforts in disaster mitigation, preparation and response. Weathering the Storm: Lessons in Risk Reduction from Cuba presents a comprehensive overview of the Cuban model of risk reduction in disaster mitigation, preparedness, response and recovery, and explores what may be adapted from this model in other countries. The report focuses on specific recommendations for Central America.
]]>As the emergency response begins to shift to rebuilding destroyed towns and villages, Oxfam International urged national and local authorities to take measures to reduce risk in the earthquake-prone country.
Oxfam staff working in the districts of Pisco, Humay, and Independencia have already observed that some families in affected areas have begun rebuilding their homes. They are using the same fragile materials, such as mud bricks and bamboo, to construct their new homes as before, leaving them equally vulnerable to damage and collapse if another earthquake hits.
“Reconstructing the area in the same way, in the same places, using the same materials, is a recipe for a future disaster. Government authorities must ensure that communities are informed of the basic guidelines on how to rebuild their homes to make them more resistant to severe damage or collapse,” said Jacobo Ocharán, an Oxfam Disaster Risk Reduction Specialist. “As reconstruction begins, people must learn how to build affordable earthquake-resistant structures. Our work in risk reduction in El Salvador has shown us that taking these low-cost measures can help to prevent such destruction from happening again.”
Oxfam is currently carrying out its emergency response providing clean water, sanitation services and other assistance to people in urban and remote rural areas. Once it moves into the reconstruction phase, Oxfam will also take on disaster risk reduction in quake-affected areas, tapping into its experience helping local governments in northern Peru build their capacity to respond to increasingly frequent flash floods caused by El Niño.
The national government’s reconstruction fund, FORSUR, has recently announced that, over the next one to two years, it will be providing 6,000 earthquake-resistant houses for families who lost their homes during last month’s quake, and may be providing subsidies for others to help them rebuild their lives. According to figures released by the government, nearly 45,000 homes were destroyed in the quake, and more than 13,000 were damaged.
“Families who are unable to access government-provided, earthquake-resistant houses will require extra help in learning how to make their new homes much stronger than they were before. Authorities must communicate that simple measures can be taken such as reinforcing mud bricks with straw or other fibers, improving bricklaying techniques and using light-weight roofing materials”, said Ocharán. “Most importantly, seismic experts must evaluate the ground in the region to determine whether part of the population needs to be relocated to sturdier areas.”
Efforts to help the population recover have vastly improved over the last month. Most affected families now have access to temporary shelter and community kitchens. However, life remains far from normal. Electricity is gradually being restored in the affected area but water provision in the city is still inadequate. Also, many sewers were destroyed in the urban areas and have not yet been repaired. Students who attend schools that were damaged are waiting for temporary classrooms to be built so they can return to their studies.
Economic activity is resuming slowly. Some fishermen have returned to the seas after repairing their boats. Yet many people continue to hang in the balance. The cotton harvest, which usually starts in late August, has been postponed due to possible irrigation water and electricity shortages. Several other industries have been indefinitely interrupted leaving many people in the region without an income.
Although no major illnesses have been reported, sanitation breaks in affected areas continue to present great health risks. Additional latrines are needed to ensure that public health problems do not develop, as are improvements in hygiene facilities for families living in tent camps and other temporary homes without access to showers.
Oxfam International is working with EMA Pisco, the municipal water enterprise, to provide the population with clean water. Additionally, the agency is working in San Miguel, a shantytown near Pisco where 400 families live. Before the earthquake, they had running water in their homes for only 30 minutes each day. Oxfam is providing them with a 45,000-liter water tank that now allows these families access to water for most of the day. Oxfam has also distributed 200 tents and temporary shelter materials to Humay, Independencia, and Túpac Amaru.
“As the rebuilding begins, we must make sure that communities are better off than before by providing better water systems and ensuring that new homes are more structurally sound than they were in the past. It is essential that authorities involved in the reconstruction engage with the local population to avoid spontaneous rebuilding by families and individuals. People must be aware of how to prevent such a tragedy from happening again,” said Ocharán.
]]>So far 120,000 people have already been displaced by flooding and the cyclone, which is forecast to hit Mozambique on Thursday, could make delivering aid to those people even harder.
“Cyclone Favio could hit regions which are more populated than those recently flooded in west and central Mozambique. Significantly more people could be affected, with more suffering for the 120,000 people already displaced and further difficulties getting aid to those in need,” said Fabio Fussi, head of Oxfam’s humanitarian response in Mozambique.
Weather forecasters expect more heavy rain though to the middle of next week, which may hamper aid efforts already in place. Oxfam has already flown 14 tons of aid to Mozambique and is providing clean water to 6,000 people sheltering in Chupanga, a camp close to Caia, in one of the most affected areas in central Mozambique. The team is preparing to provide clean water to another five camps in the coming days.
Oxfam has also distributed cooking sets, mosquito nets, blankets, buckets and plastic sheeting to build rain covers for 600 families. It is building an average of 12 latrines a day to reduce the risk of cholera.
Oscar Samso, Oxfam aid worker in the Chupanga evacuation camp said: “When we arrived in the camp one week ago there were just four latrines for 2,500 people, and army rescue boats were bringing more and more men, women and children every day. They have been arriving in Chupanga at a rate of 1,500 a day. We have to help them immediately as they couldn’t bring anything with them. Poor families affected by the floods will need aid for at least five months, as they have lost the crops they were due to harvest next month.”
The Mozambique government is responding to the crisis with quick evacuations and improved levels of co-ordination among authorities and aid agencies.
“It is good to see that the Government is taking into account many of the lessons learnt in 2000 and 2001, when the country suffered one of its worst floods in history. We are now facing a very serious disaster that could get much worse, but at the moment the response is saving many lives,” said Fussi.
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