(original title: Shortages hamper attempts to rebuild after Hurricane Ike)
Miami Herald Staff
The hammer will not leave Alfredo Pérez’s side as he sleeps under the night sky.
With no roof over his head—like many in this seaside village—Pérez uses the hammer to protect his family’s valuables from intruders who may want to pilfer the crumbled chunks of brick, rusty nails, and aged wooden beams he has salvaged and plans to use to rebuild his home ‘‘poquito a poquito’’ or ``little by little.’‘
Supplies are hard to come by. Even the rusty nails bent out of shape are a hot commodity throughout the northeastern provinces hardest hit by Hurricane Ike—a storm that slammed into this region on Sept. 7 as a major Category 3 storm with 125 mph winds and gained strength at various times during its two-day trek across the island.
‘‘This will set us back 100 years,’’ Pérez said of Ike’s impact on Cuba, an island in which many regions outside the capital city of Havana still rely on horse and buggy as a means of transportation.
Whatever Ike’s winds did not take from the Pérez family was left at the mercy of the thrashing waves. Their home, like numerous others in the town, was steps away from the turquoise blue sea.
‘‘Do you know what an atomic bomb does?’’ asked resident José Armando León, 72, standing near an open field where his house once stood in the neighboring city of Banes. ``This is what happened here, it’s like an atomic bomb was dropped and we were left with nothing.’‘
The ferocity of Ike’s island-wide path of destruction is no longer news to villagers who have been living in the devastation for two weeks. They understand the magnitude of the storm—the fact that more than 444,000 homes were damaged across the country, 932 of those in the northeastern Holguín province. They know about the eight storm-related deaths and that thousands of acres of crops like banana and sugar cane were ravaged.
They can deal with the thought of not having a roof over their head—grateful that neighbors, relatives and schools offer shelter. Even hunger is not much of an issue as neighbors share food and batches of rice and plantains are cooked at local schools for dinners.
The information most residents here seek from outsiders trickling in from more populated urban areas is any updates on reconstruction efforts. With phone lines still down, villagers rely on those passing through town to relay information. And rumors are rampant.
Some residents said local leaders have told them the Venezuelan government was tallying the homes without roofs and would dispatch supplies and workers to help rebuild. Others clung to hopeful rumblings that churches outside of the country were going to be allowed to bring donations to the remote areas.
While hoping for supplies to come in, most families aren’t waiting around for the government to fix their crumbling homes, clear the roads or erect downed electric poles.
‘‘We’re just helping until the government can come out and help. It’s all of our duty,’’ said Hugo Alberto Betancourt, 80, as he and three others attempted to position the concrete post of an electric pole into place in Banes.
Outside of the nearby beach town of Gibara, just 30 minutes west of Banes, a man named José Ricardo, 32, washed his buggy in a stream that covered what was normally the road out of town.
When the water finally subsides, he and other neighborhood volunteers plan to clear the drainage system of all the debris caused by Ike. He said the neighbors had no qualms about fixing the road themselves in the absence of government assistance.
‘‘We do it for the good of everyone,’’ he said. ``Do you know what it’s like to have to pull off your shoes and roll up your pants to walk in the water everyday?’‘
Like his neighbors, Pérez wasted no time trying to figure out which pieces of wood were long enough to form into the shell of a roof. His wife, Irene, 60, walked about the neighborhood attempting to find spoons, cups, clothes that the sea waves pushed as far as three blocks from their home.
Irene said she regretted leaving behind these essentials and family photos she had posted on her walls when she followed government orders to evacuate before Ike struck. The family fled to Banes where sturdier concrete apartment buildings fared better. She has not spoken much since Ike hit.
‘‘I feel that if I open my mouth to talk about this my soul will escape out of my body,’’ Irene said, as tears rolled down her blue eyes.