Looking beyond the disaster

When disaster strikes, the eyes of the world are momentarily drawn to the people whose lives have been overturned.

Rescue workers, aid agencies and the media pour into town. Everything is geared towards the emergency response and saving lives.

As the days turn into weeks, the cameras leave town and the world moves on to the next story.

The people whose heartfelt stories and photos once dominated news headlines are forgotten.

What happens to them?

How are they coping one year, two years, five years later?

What did the aid effort actually achieve?

The Philippines is one of the most disaster-prone countries in the world. 

Situated on the Pacific 'ring of fire', the Filipino archipelago is hit by floods, landslides, typhoons, volcanic eruptions and earthquakes on a regular basis.

In this story, we revisit three communities that were in the path of three huge typhoons – Bopha, Haiyan and Ketsana – to see the long-term impact of Red Cross recovery efforts.

"That's where they found a lot of bodies."

Ian Adlawan slowed the car as we passed an innocuous river inlet along the roadside.

"People were washed away by the floodwaters and their bodies were just dropped there," said the Philippine Red Cross driver.

Everyone has a story to tell about Typhoon Bopha, known locally as Pablo. 

It was one of the strongest storms to hit the island of Mindanao, in the southern Philippines.

When it made landfall on 4 December 2012, Bopha brought gusts of 130mph and torrential rain that triggered floods and deadly landslides.

Nearly a quarter of a million homes were damaged or destroyed, and around 1,100 people lost their lives.

The Philippines is struck by an average of 20 typhoons every year, but they usually hit further north of Mindanao.

"It was the first time we had encountered a typhoon of this magnitude," said Randy Loy, who heads up the Philippine Red Cross chapter in Compostela Valley, one of the worst affected areas.

"We have strong winds, landslides and floods, but we had never had a typhoon like this one.

"When you saw the aftermath – the flattened trees, the debris, the damaged houses, the mud, the floods – you really had to wonder what on earth had happened that day."

There were warnings on TV and radio about the approaching typhoon, but people did not know how to prepare for the storm or where to go.

Many fled to evacuation shelters that were in the path of the storm or at risk from landslides.

"I was terrified. The roof of our house was ripped off and water started pouring in," said Ulpiana Holotba.

"I ran with my husband as fast as we could. The flash floods came with no warning."

Ulpiana, 62, sought refuge in a community shelter, along with her husband.

They spent the following year living in a temporary shelter and surviving off relief items – they were unable to find work.

"My husband works on banana plantations, but they were completely destroyed. And I used to sell food to the workers on the plantations," said Ulpiana.

“We are both used to working. So it wasn't easy just sitting there and waiting.”

As part of the recovery effort, the Philippine Red Cross, with support from the IFRC, built 550 houses for people who had lost their homes.

A further 3,050 households were given support to carry out repairs.

The newly-built homes are typhoon resilient, meaning they can withstand strong winds and rain.

"When I found out we were going to be given a new home I was so happy," said Ulpiana, tears rolling down her cheek as she recalled the moment.

"We had given up. Living in the tent I thought there was no hope. We had no food, no work and then suddenly we were told we were getting a new house."

They moved into their new home one year after Typhoon Bopha. It is located in a purpose-built village for families who lost their homes to the typhoon.

The rain is lashing down when we meet Ulpiana. The softly-spoken mother-of-two is stood under a canopy in front of her home, flipping pancakes.

She sells them for three pesos each and makes about 50 pesos profit a day (1USD). It’s not much, but it supplements her husband’s income on the banana plantations.

"I feel so much safer here. My last house was made from thatch. This is concrete and much stronger," said Ulpiana.

"My grandchildren often come to stay with me. It’s safe for them here."

The community is what’s known as a 'Red Cross 143 village’. Red Cross 143 is an initiative that aims to create teams of volunteers in every village across the country.

Each teams consists of one leader and 43 members who are trained in how to prepare for and respond to disasters.

For example, they know how to give first aid, how to use rescue equipment and how to identify warning signals.

"They are our eyes and ears on the ground," said Randy. "We give them information about approaching storms and they also feed us situation reports.

"It means everyone stays informed and communities are prepared and ready to stand on their own feet when disaster strikes.

"Typhoon Bopha was a wake-up call. Since then we’ve worked with the local government to institutionalise disaster risk reduction training at a grassroots level."

The only way to reach the village of Planza is a ten-minute boat journey from the mainland. It is an idyllic trip that would grace the pages of any travel brochure.

Fishermen paddle their boats on the calm waters. Children perform somersaults from a half-constructed jetty. Palm trees frame a verdant vista as imperious mountains loom large on the horizon.

It's hard to picture a more serene location. It’s even harder to imagine the deadly devastation inflicted by Typhoon Haiyan three years ago.

"Everything was flattened. Gone. There was nothing left save for the shells of a few concrete buildings," said Erwin Escalona, from Planza.

“I thought it was the end of the world. We felt hopeless. Everyone was left to fend for themselves.”

The village, in Leyte province, in the eastern Visayas region of the Philippines, was in the path of the storm. 

It is not far from Tacloban city, known as Haiyan’s 'ground zero'.

With sustained winds of 195mph, Haiyan was one of the strongest storms ever recorded to make landfall in the world. 

At least 6,300 people were killed.

Three years on and life has resumed some sense of normality, although visible scars remain.

As part of its long-term recovery operation, the Philippine Red Cross, with support from the IFRC, is working to rebuild livelihoods.

"Of course people needed emergency supplies and housing in the aftermath, but they also told us: 'help us find work and we will build our own house, we will buy our own food,'" said Patrick Elliott, who heads up the IFRC’s Haiyan operation.

"Fishing boats had been washed away, plantations and crops had been destroyed, people had no means of earning an income.

"Restoring livelihoods is more complex than building houses. It takes time.

"We’ve tried to take a strategic approach in helping communities to create sustainable livelihoods that they can manage and expand on their own."

One approach has been to support villages in setting up community associations.

The idea is that the associations come up with a business venture suitable to their skillset and location.

Once their idea has been assessed as viable by the Red Cross, the groups are given training in business management.

Locals in Planza are starting to see the benefits of this project.

"We had a meeting to discuss what we could do," said Erwin, who heads up the community association.

"Most of us are fishermen, so it made sense to start a fish farm because we are near the water.

"We needed some help to set up the fish cages, so we put together a business plan. We wanted to do something that was concrete and sustainable."

The Red Cross gave the association a cash grant and helped to source the materials required for the fish farm. 

The fish farm produced its first yield of milkfish – the local fish of choice – in July. 

They were sold at market in Tacloban for a total profit of 42,000 Pesos (900USD).

"Of course we're happy with the profit," said Erwin, a wide smile stretching across the 45-year-old’s face.

"This is just the beginning. At the moment we’re only using half the cages, we want to expand in time."

Marilou Ochida is the association’s treasurer. The 38-year-old explained how a tranche of the profits is reinvested into the business, and the remainder is shared between the association’s members.

"For me personally, the money has helped to send my children to school," she said.

"They go to school on the mainland, so it costs money for the boat journey and we also have to pay tuition fees.

"It was hard to find the money to support my family before. The money we make from the fish farm is helping."

Working with the local government, the Red Cross has also helped more than 230 students in Leyte complete training in vocational courses such as carpentry, hotel management, retail, and welding.

The students receive nationally-accredited certificates at the end of the course. To date, around half of the students have found a job.

"The students have the capabilities, but that is not always enough. Their skills and talents need to be enhanced," said Leo Haniff Ko, head of field operations for the Philippine Red Cross in Leyte.

"In the Philippines, you need a certificate to show you are trained in a specific field in order to get a job. We give them a start and in the long term they can develop on their own.

"Some of our students have gone on to become welders in Luzon, we have restaurant owners, retail workers…

"Our livelihoods work is all about helping people to stand on their own feet and not to be dependent on others."

"Of course the kids love coming to school," said Loravella De Castro, slightly taken aback by the question as to whether her pupils enjoy school.

"They didn't have a school before. They would just stay at home or try to find work to help their parents."

Loravella is an English teacher at St Maria National High School, in Laguna province. The province gets hit hard by typhoons every year.

The rural school, which has 125 children aged between 11 and 18, has a short history.

It was built by the Philippine Red Cross and opened in 2010, one year after Typhoon Ketsana struck the region.

Prior to this, the village only had an elementary school. Children’s education would simply stop when they reached high-school age.

Loravella said: "A lot of families could not afford the transportation costs to go to school in the next town.

"We ended up with a lot of kids who were out of school and with nothing to do.

"When people heard that there was a new school being built in the village, we had a lot of interest.

"It has really benefitted this whole community. Some of our former pupils have gone on to further education, which wouldn’t have been possible before."

Loravella is sat in the school staff room with her colleague Cheenee San Juan. Both of them are part of the Red Cross '143' volunteer initiative.

They attend regular Red Cross training sessions on how to prepare their community and school for disasters.

The pupils also attend trainings as part of the Red Cross youth movement.

"You never know when a disaster is going to strike," said Cheenee.

"If the kids know how to give first aid and what to do when there’s a typhoon, everyone will benefit. It will save lives.

"The children have become more responsible. They learn new things and their attitudes improve as a result."

Across the Philippines, around half a million people are part of the '143' initiative, including the youth movement.

It is an ambitious concept, but this grassroots approach is essential in raising awareness and saving lives, according to Rowell Ramos, from the Laguna Red Cross chapter.

"Who are the first people on the scene after a disaster?" he said.

"It’s not the emergency services or even the Red Cross. It’s your family, your friends, your neighbours.

"If we can train people in every community in what to do before, during and after an emergency, it will save lives."

As climate change makes weather patterns increasingly unpredictable and storms more intense, the need for communities to be prepared for disasters is even greater.

People in areas such as Mindanao, which used to consider itself 'typhoon free', now find themselves in the path of storms.

Small-scale emergencies – floods, landslides, storms – that do not even make the local news, have become the norm across the Philippines. Unseen and silent, they are routinely eating away at the fabric of rural society.

Back in Tacloban, Leo Haniff Ko summed it up nicely.

"When I was a kid, I went to school in Mindanao," he said. "We used to watch the news and see areas in the north being hit by storms.

"It meant that the schools would close and kids would stay at home. Honestly, we used to be a bit jealous of those kids not going to school, because in Mindanao we never had storms so we never got to miss classes.

"Now we get storms and typhoons in Mindanao. Things have changed. You can no longer say when it’s going to be the rainy season or dry season, or where the next storm is going to hit.

"The impact is particularly severe for people on low-level incomes. It’s harder for them to recover every time, which is why it’s so important we help communities prepare for the next disaster."

By Sam Smith