内容摘要：For Sofia Gonzalez Figueroa, a 36-year-old single mother who last year paid $10 a month for electricity, the pain of Milei’s austerity was instantaneous. Her utilities bill skyrocketed by 830%.

For Sofia Gonzalez Figueroa, a 36-year-old single mother who last year paid $10 a month for electricity, the pain of Milei’s austerity was instantaneous. Her utilities bill skyrocketed by 830%.

While Ulfani is studying airport management, her father and mother are planning to move. They would have preferred to have already left, but say that they don’t have the money right now.When asking Ulfani what she wants to do after school — stay in the village or move elsewhere? — she cries, then responds in a whisper, “Move.”

Jaka Sadewa, right, his wife Sri Wahyuni and son Bima pose for a photo in Timbulsloko, Central Java, Indonesia, Sunday, July 31, 2022. (AP Photo/Dita Alangkara)Jaka Sadewa, right, his wife Sri Wahyuni and son Bima pose for a photo in Timbulsloko, Central Java, Indonesia, Sunday, July 31, 2022. (AP Photo/Dita Alangkara)Sri Wahyuni sits in the raised wooden doorframe, watching as fellow villagers occasionally pass by on the raised wooden platform above the water. Her terrace, already elevated by layers of concrete, is under about four inches of water.

Wahyuni and her husband Jaka Sadewa moved to the village after they got married in 2018. She says that when they moved here the water wasn’t like this; You could still ride motorcycles along the main road through the village, and the water level always went back down to normal.But as time went by, Wahyuni noticed that the water often did not recede, resulting in more flooded days for their home. They decided to do what they could to elevate their home above the water — adding layers of concrete at first, eventually building a permanent wooden level above the water. Despite this, the water still comes into the house occasionally. Still, if they hadn’t raised the house, they’d be neck-deep in water, says Wayuni.

Their 3-year-old son Bima sits in Sadewa’s lap. While Wahyuni, who grew up in the village, remembers playing in rice fields, watching adults harvest corn and seeing snakes glide through the grass, her son Bima won’t have the same experiences in the village. She says he will have to adjust, but she also hopes he has the opportunity to live elsewhere by the time he he grows up.

“I’m worried that every year the water will get higher. But we don’t have any resources,” she says. “If we had resources, we would move out.”Everything in this new home is unsettling, even undignified. “We have no toilets,” Hassan said, and described having to go inside the hut while others collected his feces.

“Today, at least we have this,” Issack said, sitting on a foam mattress in a living space he could almost span by reaching out both hands.A loaded donkey cart arrived nearby, full of boys, the oldest with the reins. Their mothers walked beside it, carrying babies. As newcomers, they’ll sleep on the ground until they, too, receive a square drawn in the dust.

They were among 77 households who arrived at the camp on a single day.Somalis who have been displaced settle at a camp on the outskirts of Dollow, Somalia Tuesday, Sept. 19, 2022. (AP Photo/Jerome Delay)