05-11-2009

Li Chuanfu wants to rebuild the spacious farmhouse that collapsed in the Sichuan earthquake last May 12, but the gap between building costs and the government subsidies on offer may be too wide for him to bridge.

On May 9, Li Chuanfu stands in the ruins of his farmhouse that was destroyed by the Sichuan earthquake on May 12, 2008. In the background is the tent Mr Li and his family lived in for three months after the quake.

Li Chuanfu has the kind of everyman face that makes people stars of television soap operas. The word jovial might have been invented for him. When we arrived at a temporary settlement for earthquake homeless between Mianzhu and Hanwang, he was sitting with friends in a little shop cum café. They pressed him to give us an interview, and he did not need much persuasion. In a community that gave us a warm welcome, his was among the most heartfelt.

Li and around forty thousand other people made homeless by the May 12 earthquake live in a vast settlement of grey-white prefabricated houses stretching down gently sloping fields from a narrow country road. The PVC terraces are separated by dirt roads that churn up in wet weather. Here and there the red roofs are dotted with rows of satellite dishes. There are cars and trucks parked outside some houses; more common are tuk-tuk-style motorcycle taxis that some residents ply around nearby towns.

The temporary houses are adequate in that they provide shelter and warmth – probably too much in summer and too little in winter – but the main problem is that at twenty square meters, they are just too small for many families.

"There's a huge difference between our old house and this one," said Li Chuanfu. "We used to have 200 square meters. Here we are all crammed into a small space."

Li lives with his wife, his daughter-in-law, twin grandsons, and his son when he is home on leave from the army. The family of six is entitled to two twenty square meter rooms. Li says conditions are fairly good. The drains work well and they get clean drinking water from stand-pipes in each block. People live in the houses rent-free, said Li. Water and electricity are also supplied free-of-charge. There are schools in the settlement including an adult education center that provides technical and vocational training. 55 year-old Li was a farmer before the earthquake. Now he makes a living as a pork butcher, but complains that there is nowhere for him to open a business in the settlement.
 
But what Li Chuanfu really wanted to do was show us his old farmhouse just a few hundred meters from the settlement. He led us on his motor scooter to the ruins of what used to be a substantial courtyard house by the roadside, adjoining his farm. Only the entrance gate is still standing; the other three sides have collapsed. A ginger cat mewled incessantly and a white dog with a black patch on his face faithfully stood guard in the ruins as Li Chuanfu and his wife showed us round. To the rear, the blue government tent the family lived in for three months after the earthquake is still standing.

Li Chuanfu and his wife explain the problems they face in their efforts to rebuild their farmhouse, which was destroyed in the Sichuan earthquake on May 12, 2008. In the background is the front section of the house - the only part still standing.

Li Chuanfu told us the government is about to begin construction of permanent homes nearby. That may be his most likely prospect of re-housing, but his aim is to rebuild his old home. He hopes to move back in within three years.

"I am going to try my best to rebuild, but it all depends on how much help we get from the government and others," he said.

Li's problem is that he needs more than 100,000 yuan to rebuild the farmhouse. The government will give him a subsidy of 22,000 yuan, half paid when building starts, half when the house is completed, but that leaves a gap of around 80,000 yuan. He told us he may be able to raise a further twenty thousand or so in loans, leaving him 60,000 yuan short. The gap seems just too wide for him to bridge

Other people in the settlement told us the same story; Deng Minlin, a young man of 22 or 23 who used to have a thriving business making and selling cheesecake, said the average price of rebuilding is around 80,000 yuan, leaving people with 60,000 to make up from loans or savings. The traditional way of raising money was to travel to eastern China to work in factories, but the collapse of exports due to the financial crisis has made it difficult to find work.

The Red Cross and other NGOs are providing rebuilding aid in Sichuan, but they are targeting the very poorest families among the homeless and Mr Li may not qualify for their assistance. In any case, NGO grants are unlikely to be large enough to bridge the funding gap he faces.

On the face of it, raising the 60,000 yuan he needs seems an impossible feat, but unless and until Mr Li manages it, the government subsidy will remain a paper promise.

When I asked him how he would manage he replied with the characteristically independent outlook of a small farmer, saying simply, "I will just have to rely on myself."