HAZRAT SULTAN, Afghan-istan -- Hundreds of Afghan villagers drawn by promises of aid are now living in dank burrows dug into the hard tan soil, like tombs over this riverbank plateau.
It's a cruel reality: Afghans roaming the country in search of help end up in greater misery because of the difficulty of providing food and shelter to a population on the move.
"We live here like animals. I'm afraid we also may die like animals in a hole," sobbed 40-year-old widow Momogul, crouching Monday outside the narrow slit that provides the only light for her family's cramped underground chamber. Four of her six children squatted silently in the semi-darkness.
Momogul -- who uses one name, as do many Afghans -- arrived last week in Hazrat Sultan, about 45 miles southeast of Mazar-e-Sharif. She joined other desperate mountain villagers leaving the Dara-e-Suf region, a former front-line zone between the Taliban and U.S.-backed forces.
No more tents, food
Word had somehow reached the villages that international aid organizations were setting up a camp along the main highway in northern Afghanistan. There was some truth to the rumors. A Taiwanese group, Tzu Chi, erected about 200 tents earlier this month and distributed some food.
But the reality was not so benevolent. There were no more tents or food. The newcomers -- at least 200 families and growing -- took the only option available: make shelters or perish in the subfreezing night. Sharing a few shovels and picks, they have dug more than 200 closet-sized cavities in the soft dirt. And they wait and pray that more aid arrives.
"This is the end. We have absolutely nothing, only this dark place as a home," said 20-year-old Rahmad Pullah. "If we don't get help, this place may end up our grave."
The sorrow in Hazrat Sultan is part of a scenario relief groups fear: Villagers streaming toward any hint of aid are left clinging to most primitive rungs of survival. Abandoned buildings outside provincial towns fill with families from the poorer countryside.
Spartan conditions
At one camp outside the western city of Herat, international aid coordinators purposely maintain spartan conditions to try to discourage new arrivals.
"There will be a certain urbanization of the country. It's unavoidable considering the conditions in the villages," said Keith Ward-Ursel, head of the U.N.'s World Food Program in Mazar-e-Sharif. "A problem occurs when too many people are on the move and we don't know where they are going."
The Red Cross has started sending truck convoys carrying food to the Dara-e-Suf region and other areas. Plans call for a distribution of wheat seeds for the spring planting in March.
Villagers, carrying little more than a few blankets and cooking pots, straggle into the Hazrat Sultan camp. At night the muffled cries of children filter from the warren of tiny caverns. Smoke from cooking fires leaps from ventilation holes poked in the soil. At sunrise, the digging resumes.
A polio victim who lost use of both his legs skids through the camp atop a discarded bag of donated American wheat. Abdul Aziz's 50-year-old mother dug their cave alone.
"We have no food, nothing," begged Aziz. "Can we really end our days like this?"
His mother, Zeynet, gave him a hard stare.
"It's better than the village," she said. "Someone will find us here and help. Have faith."
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