DANA: The struggle to rise from the mud

ValenciaFirst there was silence. A silence of death and destruction. Then came the sound of volunteers' boots and shovels. Then the pump trucks and Kärcher pressure washers. Now, four and a half months after the DANA disaster, the soundtrack of the affected towns in Horta Sud is the sound of drills, hammers, and steep slopes. Everywhere you look, workers are working on the ground floors. In the Valencian Country, the time for reconstruction has arrived, and the streets have only just returned to some semblance of normality a few weeks ago once the mud was removed. But it's only an appearance, of course. Because every inhabitant has terrible stories from that night. The physical scar will take years to disappear, but the other may never do so. Perhaps that's why these days another sound can be heard mixed with the construction work: the children's firecrackers, anticipating a time of celebration, the Fallas, which should serve to begin to turn the page and leave so much misery behind.

Paiporta's historic center is ground zero for the DANA (National Association of Urban Planning and Urban Development). There are streets there where every building on the ground floor is destroyed, and no business has yet reopened. One of the places where work is being done against the clock is the Falla center in Plaza Cervantes. Its president is Héctor Martínez, who shows us the warehouse, where the mud that invaded everything is still very visible. "We've decided not to put up the monuments, but we will have parades, a cavalcade, and bands... The important thing is to get together, talk, hug... Just think, there are still people we haven't seen after that. And that will do us good," he says with a touch of emotion.

However, the Fallas are not just a festive phenomenon. They are the most important social and associative network in the Valencian Country, and were crucial during the crisis, as Verònica March, a journalist with À Punt and member of the Cervantes Fallas, explains. "With the volunteers, we started cleaning the center on November 4th with the idea of turning it into a supply point. We were quickly filled with supplies: diapers, hygiene products, cleaning products, food, rain boots, brooms, mops..." The WhatsApp groups died down, with 400 people in them. And it was after Christmas that the idea of celebrating the festivities began to gain traction: "At first, no one was keen on anything and they wanted to cancel everything, but at the last meeting, things changed," explains Verónica, who became famous for her live broadcasts on Valencian public television from Paiporta.

The Horta Sud Foundation is the organization responsible for helping many fallas recover, as it has distributed aid of up to 20,000 euros to recover from the damage. This, combined with the other fallas across the country, which have acted as a rallying cry and sent them everything, explains this Fallas revival in the towns devastated by Hurricane Maria. The Convento de Jerusalén falla in Valencia, for example, has donated a monument to be erected in the center of Paiporta under the title "SOM: a falla for reconstruction."

A walk through Paiporta confirms the idea that people are eager to return, at least in part, to their former lives, for example by buying flowers. Javier Marí saw his flower shop completely destroyed overnight. He explains with emotion that, just when they thought they weren't going to make it, the volunteers arrived and everything changed. "They were all young people, and at one point they ransacked the shop and emptied it. They threw away so much stuff and everything!" he recalls now with a smile. He was particularly unlucky because he had all his All Saints' Day flowers ready when the flood hit. Like so many others, he explains that the first money he received was from the Alcem-se program, sponsored by Juan Roig. It was 8,000 euros, which he used to pay for the blinds and the glass in his door. Many other businesses report the same thing: in the face of uncertainty and the slowness of the authorities, the money that could be requested with a simple online form arrived in people's checking accounts within 15 days. On some balconies, in fact, banners can be seen with the slogan: "Thank you, Juan Roig," and the Mercadona logo. Juan Roig's Alcem-se program has allocated 25 million in direct aid. Last Tuesday, Mercadona announced its profits: 1.384 billion.

The DANA has posed a gigantic challenge for the authorities and the insurance consortium, which are the two official sources of aid. But the feeling that remains is that without the wave of solidarity and the philanthropic operations that have been launched, most businesses would not have reopened. Javier Marí explains that, for example, many customers paid him for the All Saints' Day flowers anyway, others made donations, and that many Fallas celebrations in Valencia now order flowers from local florists. In fact, the Valencia Market still donates a portion of the proceeds to those affected.

On a property in Paiporta, a group of neighbors with folders await an important visit: the expert. It's Esther Puchades, a member of APCAS, the Association of Insurance Experts, who in 30 years of experience has never had to deal with a similar situation. The neighbors show her all the damage: the elevator, the parking lot—which was completely submerged—the electrical panels, the storage rooms... She nods, takes measurements of the water level, and takes photos. "It's being valued generously, and on top of that, we're adding 20% more," she says. During her visits these past few days, Puchades has seen it all. "On a property in Catarroja, they told me that a couple couldn't get out of the elevator, and of course, that affects you, because as a technician, you also have a picture of what happened: first the power went out, then the water rose, the reeds hit you..." she recounts sadly.

The Insurance Compensation Consortium has deployed 3,000 experts to the DANA (National Insurance Company), and in general, compensation payments to individuals have been expedited as much as possible. However, there are many complaints from businesses and shops. Many people have filed complaints here, either because they feel they haven't been adequately compensated for their damages or because they've realized they perhaps should have paid more attention to the fine print.

David Guillamon and Francisco Hidalgo, who own a renovation and painting company in Paiporta, have found themselves in a very unusual situation. They were victims at first, but they have plenty of work to do. "We only accept jobs from those affected by the DANA (National Anti-Drug Deficiency Virus) and we triage based on need: primarily elderly people living on the ground floor," explains Guillamon, who denounces people taking advantage of this by inflating prices. "People are desperate to get back home," he concludes. Hidalgo warns that many homes in Paiporta will now suffer from chronic dampness that will never go away. He explains the case of a client who has made an appointment for June, when she believes the house will be completely dry.

This company has also received aid from Juan Roig and aid intended for self-employed workers from the Generalitat (€3,000) and the Spanish government (€5,000). Both administrations are vying to claim they have distributed more money or have been more agile, but most witnesses claim it has taken roughly the same amount of time. The Generalitat says it has already distributed €192 million to affected self-employed workers and businesses, and the central government says it has distributed €335 million. Overall, the Generalitat has distributed €419 million in direct aid, while the central government claims it has reached €4.4 billion. On the ground, this money is visible in the businesses that have already been able to reopen or in the ground floors that boast new doors and windows.

The self-organization of Parc Alcosa

If everyone in Valencia sets an example of solidarity and self-organization, outside of official aid, it is the so-called Parc Alcosa neighborhood in Alfafar. Before the ravine, it was already a degraded neighborhood, with 40% structural unemployment and poverty levels of 70%. Its official name is Barrio de Orba, and according to activist Paul Muñecas, just a month ago it still resembled a war zone. "Here you couldn't see the lines on the ground, there were no traffic signs or stoplights. If you look closely, they're all new now," he says. There, the so-called Koordinadora de Kolectivos del Parke (Park Collective Coordinator) was immediately set up to assist those affected. "In the first few days, the State disappeared in all its forms, but here, unlike wealthier neighborhoods, we were organized," Muñecas explains.

They quickly set up a popular supermarket and a clothing store that still operate, and even a healthcare and medicine distribution center. The Network of Casals and Athenaeums of the Catalan Countries organized the delivery of aid and volunteers. Mohamed Louhichi, a Tunisian refugee who arrived in Valencia in 1987, explains how he immediately connected with the volunteers of a Sants brigade. "They sold every weekend, and if they arrived late on Friday and only had an hour, they took advantage of it. I really liked seeing how they worked, how you could see they weren't here for a leisurely stroll, but to truly help." All the stories agree on this point: without the help of the volunteers, they would still be shoveling mud today. Solidarity reaches where the State cannot or lacks the capacity to reach.

The good relationship between Louhichi and the volunteers reached the point where one of them lent him a family car they didn't want, since he'd lost his own. How so? Not exactly because of the DANA. "It was the UME who took my car, and I never got it back," he says. This explains the strange signs that can be seen on many vehicles, which read: "This vehicle works." That's why the army, when it arrived, couldn't distinguish between good and bad cars.

Near the neighborhood square is the school, which was completely destroyed by the flood and by a truck that crashed into the building. The students have had to be relocated to another school, and the building is covered in graffiti warning of the danger of collapse.

Next to the Orba neighborhood, there is a street that borders Benetússer, another of the affected towns. There, we encountered a very long line of people waiting to collect food. This is not an official supply point, but the initiative of an activist, Neri Curado, who has created a food distribution organization called Gente Bonita. However, hers is an example of the anti-politics and anti-politicians discourse so prevalent in the affected areas. Under the slogan "Only the people save the people," she attacks politicians and denounces that they hinder her work because the lines reflect poorly. "Politicians out" is painted on some walls, and Muñecas explains that influencers Far-right activists tried to campaign in the neighborhood. "People from Madrid, from the National Nucleus and the Workers' Front, have come here, but we made them understand they weren't welcome. Now even far-right people from the neighborhood come here asking for help," he says.

The danger of anti-politics

Catarroja's Urban Planning Councilor, Martí Raga, is deeply concerned about this wave of anti-politics. "The message being sent is: magnates yes, politicians no. If Juan Roig were to run for election, he would surely win," he says. In Catarroja, the Hortensia Herrero Foundation, Juan Roig's wife, is funding the reconstruction of playgrounds, and Amancio Ortega also sent them money to distribute 1,800 euros per family. "This posed a management problem, since the City Council doesn't have the infrastructure to distribute that money, but you can't explain that to the people," Raga complains.

In Catarroja, there are currently many reconstruction projects underway, from the largest to channel the Poio ravine, which they call Chiva here, to those for individual homes. No permits are required or fees charged; with a declaration of responsibility, they can begin. "Right now there is no way or capacity to supervise all the works. There are 3,500 homes affected. Perhaps in a few years we will have short circuits because the electrical installation is not done correctly, but we can't do anything, people need their homes -he admits-. Think that in a few minutes we went from living in the first world to depending on José And, in a sentence.

In a home in Catarroja, four friends get together to start an energy cooperative and take the opportunity to discuss the situation. They are Salva Moncayo, Vicent Máñez, Joan Ramiro and Augusto Algueró. "On our property we have charged 25,000 euros to do the patio but there are no workers, no painters or anything. I even called an architect from Alicante to carry out the project and he told me they were booked until August," says one of them. "I have a quote for cleaning the garage of 3,000 euros and other companies, for the same job, want to charge me 8,000 or 10,000," says another. This is the biggest problem at the moment. More than the money, which according to most witnesses is coming in, the problem now is the lack of labor and price inflation. Antonio, a newsagent from Catarroja, hammers the point home: "I can't complain about what I've been paid, but I have to fix things up little by little because there's neither material nor people to work with."

There is one sector in which the crisis is total: the elevator sector. On the street, you see rusty cabins that no one has come to pick up. Neighbors complain that elevator operators don't provide the services they need and in some cases, they only make appointments for the end of the year. One of the neighbors from Catarroja confesses that they've committed an irregularity in getting it working on their property because they have a disabled neighbor. "What do you want us to do?" he defends himself. The metal shutters have also failed in August, as many were smashed not by the water, but by the cars they dragged through.

It's paradoxical, but alongside the destruction, you can now see many new cars, all with similar license plates. "The effect is as if the town had won the lottery," says one resident ironically. They are very visible precisely because the parking lots are in poor condition and everyone is on the street, parked haphazardly in squares and pedestrian areas. City councils turn a blind eye, and the landscape is reminiscent of the 1980s. It's estimated that public garages won't be able to open for a long time, as the water table has now risen and they are leaking everywhere. Going into one of them is like entering an apocalyptic landscape.

However, other images are more reminiscent of a wartime setting. This is what happens with the UME vehicles, deployed due to the orange alert in effect at the time, or an army truck struggling through the streets of downtown Catarroja to deliver furniture to a family. Isabel happily welcomes them at the door of the old house where she lives while her two daughters jump for joy (there were no classes that day either). Isabel explains that she filled out a City Council form listing everything she lost and is receiving the latest delivery today. It's furniture from the Valencian brand Sklum, donated. Solidarity once again.

Next to the Júcar River, between Fortaleny and Sueca, Nando Durà shows us an orange grove that was devastated by the force of the floodwaters. A member of the Unión Labradora y Ganadera (Laborer and Livestock Union) and one of the most prominent figures in Valencian agriculture, he also complains about the way the administration works. Not so much about the management of the aid, but rather about the reconstruction of the damage. "They outsourced everything to a public company, Tragsa, which lacked the capacity and took a long time to get the machinery and people ready. In contrast, in Sueca alone, farmers had a thousand tractors that we could have used from day one," he laments. The damage to the Valencian countryside amounts to around €1.1 billion.

Durà points out one of the weak points of the management of the DANA (National Park of Agricultural Development): the lack of knowledge of the region that many politicians possess. "All Sueca farmers know that if there's a storm, a roadblock is put up right there and this area floods. It's just a matter of getting your foot in the door, but they don't consult us at all. It's incredibly incompetent not to know what you're up against when you govern a town or city next to a river. But that's the political class we have."

Our tour ends at the Albufera, specifically at the port of Catarroja, which was completely destroyed and covered in mud, reeds, and all kinds of debris washed away by the water. Excavators are still working, and boats are stuck in the mud. At the Casa Baina restaurant, the hostess, Mariví Blesa, nervously moves around the tables, handing out hugs and kisses. Today is a very special day: they are reopening after four months of closure. The excitement is shared by the customers, who keep throwing flowers at her.

"It took us 21 days to get into the restaurant, and when I walked in, I started crying because of how everything was. But then the volunteers arrived, and everything changed. They were young people from all over, from Galicia and all, and they helped us remove the mud," he says, his eyes filled with tears. "I haven't received any aid from the State yet, nor from the Generalitat," he adds. "And today we can see the results."

Beside her, her husband Josep Olmos points out the window to the spot where the bodies of two children from Torrent were found, separated by a few meters. "It was as if they didn't want to be separated," he says.

In the restaurant's dining room, diners enjoy garlic and pepper sauce and a delicious rice soup. It's a small victory in the struggle to rise from the mud. A struggle that still has many episodes ahead. But it's already beginning to bear fruit.