This is not pretty; but it is about people making do. This man and so many others like him: fathers, husbands, are doing whatever is necessary to help their families survive as they await desperately needed relief supplies.

Only now the true story of human sacrifice, resilience and courage is starting to come to light.

Damage and loss assessment teams have waded through the Irrawaddy delta to gain a clearer picture of the devastation wrought by Nargis. The storm’s havoc is matched only by the determination of the survivors to cling to life.

One young mother from Seikyi village in Labutta, the worst-hit area, told of how she swam to safety with her ten-month-old baby clutched in one arm. She and her husband waited days before any boat arrived to rescue them.

The thirsty baby had to drink sea-contaminated water; now her skin shows signs of infection; her hair is falling off.

In Mi-oo village, also in Labutta, more than 100 villagers sprinted uphill to the tiny monastery to escape the rising water. There they waited, packed in like sardines for 17 hours until the water receded.

The delta still bears the scars of the cyclone; houses wrecked, land washed away, crops lost. Along swollen streams and rivers corpses are still visible, even hanging from the branches of trees.

Amidst this scene of misery, people wait and hope for relief. Slowly it is coming. But it is difficult. Some of the more remote areas are accessible only by boat or helicopter.

The World Food Programme is stepping up its supply drops. Urgently needed water, food, tents and medical supplies are ferried from the larger townships to those most in need. Elsewhere, non-government organisations and volunteers mix with locals and township officials, pitching in to help wherever they can.

But the weather that brought such destruction is now making the relief and recovery effort that much harder. Heavy rain continues to pour; there are no boundaries anymore between houses and the water.  

Roads already badly damaged are made even worse. Trucks struggle to make progress, deadlines come and go: delivery vehicles setting up from Yangon losing up to half a day in travel.

For the people sadly, it means they often have to fend for themselves.

Survivors are gathering whatever possessions they scramble together to raise money for much needed food and supplies. One poultry farmer who lost almost his entire stock of chickens managed to even joke about how Nargis had taken the shirt from his back. Standing bare-chested he said he had to sell his wife’s wedding ring and other jewellery to try to rebuild his business.

Men in Myanmar longyis can be seen gathering together amongst the wreckage, each hammering and sawing, remaking houses the storm washed away. They try to fill the potholes in the roads with rocks, grinding them down to even out the surface.

Women return from makeshift supply tents balancing bags of rice on their heads.

Somehow the people manage to keep smiling. Little children wave at our cars from the roadside. Men gather around television sets to watch the Euro 2008 football cup. Young men strum guitars and sing. 

With so little to share, the people still find enough to fill the bowls of Buddhist monks.

This is the resilience that will see these people through and will inspire the joint effort of ASEAN, the United Nations and Government of Myanmar as it gathers its data, and tries to plot the course of lasting relief and recovery.

The signs of hope are there; that is true. But the despair is still overwhelming. Look into the face of one man as he tells of losing his wife and two daughters; his eyes are blank it will be a long time before he can raise a smile. He has two daughters still to care for, for his sake and many thousands of others like him the international community and the Myanmar Government must not allow their efforts to wane.

In the meantime, along river banks throughout the Delta, men will continue to gather rats to feed their families. In this way, survival is assured, at least for another day.