Selva: Flood-Driven Entrapment and Planned Relocation in Peru’s Rainforest

Bergmann, Jonas

doi:10.1007/978-3-658-42298-1_6

Jonas Bergmann⁶

Part of the book series: Studien zur Migrations- und Integrationspolitik ((SZMI))

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Abstract

In Peru’s rainforest (Selva), the research interest was in two cases of flood-driven, short-distance, planned relocation in the Region of San Martín. After having requested relocation, both villages first became forcibly immobile for years (V3 and V4) and only one relocation was eventually accomplished (V3). These cases are of interest for two reasons. First, the evidence demonstrates that the annual flood cycle in the rainforest and extreme floods periodically drive individual migration and when habitability is threatened, the state has occasionally attempted to relocate entire communities. Second, extreme floods have already increased in the rainforest and are projected to rise further due to climate change; the case studies thus provide valuable insights into a dynamic with rising importance for (im)mobilities. In the first section, I explain the geographical context, measured and projected climate change trends and impacts, exposure, vulnerabilities, local coping and adaptation, and hazard-related migration in Peru’s Selva. Afterwards, I describe and discuss the new empirical results before inducing propositions on well-being impacts of climate (im)mobilities in the last section. Findings highlight that severe floods in 1999 and 2015, respectively raised aspirations to migrate in the villages. Yet, due to limited migration capabilities and lacking state support, farmers in V3 only relocated after 15 years, whereas those in V4 have remained in entrapment until today. These (im)mobilities occurred under distress because structural opportunities were only low to average, whereas high structural constraints emerged. The Indígenas’ prolonged entrapment in V4 has had significant impacts on their well-being. Because the state designated their village as a high-risk flood zone but failed to purchase a promised new plot for the relocation, farmers did not only still suffer from continued flooding, but also lost planned infrastructure investments. Their vulnerabilities have increased chronically. With worsening need fulfillment, most respondents lost subjective well-being. Many also expressed negative outlooks on the future given economic insecurity and years of bad governance, which have raised doubt that the relocation will be completed. By contrast, V3 faced major hurdles in the protracted relocation but eventually moved. Although challenges persisted after relocation, most farmers perceived the eventual transfer as successful in material dimensions owing to the decreased exposure to hazards as well as the improved access to jobs and markets. Most villagers followed a trajectory of delayed recovery and reported positive feelings, cognitive satisfaction, and optimistic views of the future. Based on these empirical findings, more general propositions on the well-being impacts of climate (im)mobilities are induced.

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“Para mi igual no más ha sido, porque cada vez que inunda igual sufrimos, no hay cambio. Cambio puede haber cuando nosotros salgamos de aquí, cuando nos reubiquen.”

“For me, it has stayed the same really, because every time it floods, we suffer the same, there is no change. Change can happen when we leave here, when they relocate us” (own translation, as in all the chapter).

Statement by an Indigenous subsistence farmer, in her early 40s at the time of the interview, and mother of two children. She aspired to relocate but has been trapped since a major river flood in 2015 (V4-14).

In Peru’s rainforest (Selva), the research interest was in two cases of flood-driven, short-distance, planned relocation (community-wide migration) in the Region of San Martín. After having requested relocation, both villages first became forcibly immobile for years and only one relocation was eventually accomplished. These cases are of interest for two reasons. First, the evidence demonstrates that the annual flood cycle in the rainforest and extreme floods periodically drive individual migration (e.g. Hofmeijer et al. 2013; Langill 2018; List 2016; Sherman et al. 2016). When habitability is threatened, the state has occasionally attempted to relocate entire communities (Bernales 2019; Desmaison et al. 2018; Estrada et al. 2018; Lavell et al. 2016; Lopez 2018; Pittaluga 2019). Second, extreme floods have already increased in the rainforest (Barichivich et al. 2018; Gloor et al. 2013; Marengo & Espinoza 2016) and are projected to rise further due to climate change (Castellanos et al. 2022; Zulkafli et al. 2016). Without attribution analysis, it remains difficult to know how much more likely climate change made the specific floods analyzed in this dissertation. Yet, since extreme floods have increased in this region overall, and climate change is projected to intensify them further, the case studies do provide valuable insights into a dynamic with rising importance for (im)mobilities.

In the first section, I explain the geographical context, measured and projected climate change trends and impacts, exposure, vulnerabilities, local coping and adaptation, and hazard-related migration in Peru’s Selva. Afterwards, I describe and discuss the new empirical results before inducing propositions on well-being impacts of climate (im)mobilities in the last section.

1 Context

Peru’s share of Amazonia—the second-largest after Brazil’s—comprises 58% of the its landmass but is home to only 14% of the population (INEI 2018c; Mächtle 2016).^{Footnote 1} The study sites V3 and V4 are located in the San Martín Region (Figure 6.1), where 813,000 people lived in in 2017, 68% of them in urban zones (INEI 2018c).^{Footnote 2} V3 and V4 are two small but growing villages without district status. In 2018, V3 housed 150 farmers who auto-identified as mestizos (Amerindian and other ancestry).^{Footnote 3} Due to high birth rates, V4 has more than doubled its size since 1990 and is now home to 700 Indígenas (Indigenous people) (INEI 2018c). The population in V4 is young, with almost every second villager being at school age. It has retained Indigenous ancestral customs such as music, dances, and handicraft, and special relations to the surrounding nature. In both sites, slightly more inhabitants are male than female, and all villagers speak Spanish.

Amazonia contains much of the remaining rainforest on Earth, which provides key ecosystem services to people in Peru and worldwide. The tropical rainforest still covers about two thirds of the Selva in Peru, with transitions into forest and savanna on the northern and southern extremes, and into montane and cloud forest in the Andes to the west (Encyclopædia Britannica 2018; Mächtle 2016). Some of Peru’s rainforest is protected or belongs to Indigenous people, but an increasing share is exploited for agriculture, agroforestry, and resource extraction. Deforestation is a serious problem and mainly driven by agricultural migration, logging, illegal wood extraction, and climate impacts (MINAM 2016b; USAID 2014). Humans have caused vast biodiversity losses and species extinction in Peru, one of the world’s seventeen megadiverse countries (CEPLAN 2011; USAID 2014).

Besides rainforest cover, vegetation in the Selva depends on elevation-related temperatures (Encyclopædia Britannica 2018; Mächtle 2016). Land below 1,000 m.a.s.l. is suitable for producing bananas, cacao, and similar crops. These lowlands feature two landforms, the wide surfaces above highest flood levels (terra firme) and alluvial floodplains by the river (várzeas) with annual floods. Above 1,000 m.a.s.l., more moderate temperatures allow for crops such as coffee and corn.

Peru’s rainforest and its pre-mountains feature a humid and tropical climate (Mächtle 2016). Seasonal temperatures vary slightly, but daily ranges between maximum and minimum temperatures can be high in the lowlands and even higher in the mountainous zones. In austral summers, the South American Summer Monsoon brings abundant rainfall with yearly averages of 1,500–2000 mm. Maximum rainfall develops along the north-eastern Andean slopes. As a result, the Atlantic drainage basin, which includes Amazonia, accounts for more than 97% of the total available water in Peru (ANA 2018). While the rainforest has high temperatures and rainfall rates nearly all year long, the seasonality of rainfall regimes varies across zones. The study sites V3 and V4 are located at approximately 250 and 200 m.a.s.l on the ecological floor coined Omagua (Pulgar Vidal 1972).^{Footnote 4} Temperatures here are high all year and the region has a bimodal rainfall regime. V3 experiences rainfall peaks from February-April and September-November. The rainy season in V4 lasts from September-May, whereas the drier period is from June-August (Figure 6.2).^{Footnote 5}

In Peru’s already warm rainforest, temperatures have risen by up to 0.25 °C per decade from 1981 to 2016 (Bergmann et al. 2021a; Lavado-Casimiro et al. 2016). Extremely hot days during the warm months have increased at least by a factor of two over recent decades in northern South America (Feron et al. 2019). Abrupt temperature falls (friajes) also threaten people, fauna, and flora in Peru’s Selva six to ten times per year (MINAGRI 2012; SENAMHI n.d.; SINAGERD et al. 2014), and San Martín has the second-highest exposure to friajes in Peru (SINAGERD et al. 2014). For V4 specifically, the analysis of gridded satellite and station data reveal that 1997–2016 temperatures were up to 0.2 °C higher compared to 1982–2001 (Figure 6.3). The maximum daily temperature range has declined, while the absolute maximum temperatures and the number of hot days have been rising.

Rainfall trend analysis for Peru comes with uncertainties. Several studies find no significant average trends in the Amazon (Haylock et al. 2006; Heidinger et al. 2018), but specific basins show significant increases (for example, the southern Ucayali basin in the south) or low significant reductions (for example, the northern Ucayali basin in the central rainforest) (Da Paca et al. 2020). While Da Paca et al. (2020) find insignificant increases in the northern rainforest, Lavado-Casimiro et al. (2012b) document significant decreases. Runoff for the Amazon basin has significantly decreased (Espinoza et al. 2006; Lavado-Casimiro et al. 2012a). Data analysis for V4 specifically indicates that daily mean rainfall has increased throughout the year for the period of 1997–2016 compared to 1982–2001, particularly during the rainy season (Figure 6.4). Annual rainfall also indicates an upward trend after a dry period in the second half of the 1990s. While the number of dry spells seems to have decreased and shortened, the intensity of extreme precipitation events (95^th percentile) has increased.

The exact direction of future changes in mean and extreme rainfall in the Amazon is unclear (Christensen et al. 2013; Cook & Vizy 2008; Giorgi et al. 2014; Sörensson et al. 2010), as is the case for the Province home to V4 (Figure 6.5). Peru’s rainforest may see fewer rainy days but more intense rainfall events (Castellanos et al. 2022; Christensen et al. 2013; Giorgi et al. 2014). While the mean runoff in main Amazon river basins is not projected to change significantly (Lavado-Casimiro et al. 2011; Zulkafli et al. 2016), the wet season flood pulse (Zulkafli et al. 2016) and wetness extremes (Duffy et al. 2015) will intensify. Mild and severe multiyear droughts are projected to increase for the whole Amazon region (Duffy et al. 2015; Parsons et al. 2018).

Already today, temperatures and humidity are high in the Selva, which creates occupational heat stress even in the shade. However, climate change will intensify heat stress and lead to deadly heat conditions—too hot, too humid, or both, for human thermoregulation (Mora et al. 2017b)—that threaten work and survival (Andrews et al. 2018; Feron et al. 2019; Mora et al. 2017a). In a high emissions pathway,^{Footnote 6} the 50^th percentile of mean temperature for V4 may rise from 26.5 °C in the 2010s to 30.5 °C in the 2080s; by then, the whole year may consist of hot days (Figure 6.6, see also Mora et al. (2017a)). In some rainforest zones, even limited global warming of 2 °C would sharply increase the days per year when temperature is above the deadly threshold. Across Peru, such conditions would expose more than 10 million people to extreme heat stress (Andrews et al. 2018).

Moreover, the rainforest could reach a dieback tipping point at which large extents of biomass would be substituted through savanna or grassland (Adams et al. 2014; Borma et al. 2013; Lenton et al. 2008; Lyra et al. 2017; Nobre et al. 2016; Staal et al. 2020). Such a dieback could be driven by deforestation, climate impacts, or a combination of both. 75% of the Amazon rainforest has lost resilience since the start of this century and may already be approaching a dieback threshold (Boulton et al. 2022). In Peru, agricultural expansion and other factors had already destroyed more than 7% of the rainforest by 2014 (MINAM 2016b). A dieback would disrupt hydrological cycles, biodiversity, and carbon storage. Forest resources and agriculture would also greatly decline and thereby erode linked livelihoods (Boulton et al. 2022; Lyra et al. 2017; Masson-Delmotte et al. 2018).

In line with the data above, prior studies find that people in Peru’s Selva are recurrently exposed to multiple hazards that often relate to erratic, deficient or excessive rainfall, and resulting floods or droughts (Langill 2018; Marengo & Espinoza 2016; Zavaleta et al. 2018). Farmers are familiar with the impacts of an annual flood cycle, which can benefit lowland agriculture by leaving fertile alluvium (Sherman et al. 2015; Takasaki et al. 2004). However, periodically heavier rainfall can drive severe, exceptional floods (Langill & Abizaid 2020; Sherman et al. 2015), which have intensified over the past decades (Barichivich et al. 2018; Bodmer et al. 2018; Gloor et al. 2013; Marengo et al. 2013).^{Footnote 7} Such intense rainfall occurs mostly between September and May and can result in floods, mudslides, and erosion. Figure 6.7 shows that many of Peru’s flood risk zones are in the Selva. Numerous rainforest dwellers experience at least one major flood in their lives (Coomes et al. 2010; Langill 2018; List 2016). Communities by main river channels can be more exposed than those by tributaries (Langill 2018). Flood exposure also depends on land type and elevation, increasing from upland over high levee to low levee and back slope land (Langill 2018; Takasaki et al. 2004). In 2014, 435,000 people were exposed to intense rains in San Martín, the Region home to V3 and V4 (SINAGERD et al. 2014). Conversely, droughts have not yet had strong effects in San Martín, but drought risk could increase.^{Footnote 8}

Temperature-related hazards such as heat (Hofmeijer et al. 2013; Zavaleta et al. 2018) and abrupt temperature falls (friajes) add to the problems (SINAGERD et al. 2014). As discussed above, climate change has intensified these hazards and is projected to further increase them extensively.

This high exposure to hazards in the Selva combines with substantial vulnerabilities. First, rural livelihoods in Amazonia mostly depend on ecosystem services that are threatened by climate impacts. Villages not directly located by rivers use three food sub-systems (Coomes et al. 2010; Zavaleta et al. 2018): forest, farming, and external sources, such as seasonal migration and day or wage labor (Langill 2018)). If proximity to rivers permits, people also fish (Manzi 2005; Sherman et al. 2016). The relative share of these livelihood activities can differ considerably across villages (Coomes et al. 2010; Hofmeijer et al. 2013). Besides proximity to rivers, land elevation and flood cycles shape livelihood options (Langill & Abizaid 2020; Takasaki et al. 2004). Farmers use ecological zoning to exploit time-specific opportunities in growing seasons, and upland farmers whose fields are not affected by floods use different agricultural production than lowland farmers. Additionally, farmers rotationally adjust their livelihoods in floodplains to the flood cycle by raising agricultural production during flood recession and increasing fishing during floods (Langill 2018; List 2016).

Second, rural Amazonian households are often extremely poor. According to government data, 42% and 55% of the habitants in the two districts^{Footnote 9} where V3 and V4 are located are poor and 13% and 26%, respectively, extremely poor (MIDIS 2020). According to district-level data, 57% and 65% of the households, respectively, have only dirt floors, and many use fragile housing materials (INEI 2018a). In both districts, close to 80% of all households cook with wood, more than 60% of the people have only primary education or less, and around 15% cannot read and write.

Third, intersectional factors further heighten vulnerabilities (Hofmeijer et al. 2013; Langill 2018, 2020). Non-majority ethnic groups frequently face discrimination (Barrón 2008) and a disproportionately high poverty incidence in Peru (INEI 2016b). Age and sex also matter; for example, older adults often suffer disproportionately from floods because their health baseline tends to be worse and they have less capacity to move or work (Langill 2018; Takasaki et al. 2010). Single-headed female household are frequent in the rainforest and tend to be overloaded with labor (Langill 2021). After floods, women can also suffer more mental health issues than men (Rojas-Medina et al. 2008). Yet, gendered effects are not fixed. For example, when men migrate during the rainy season, women often become heads of household (Langill 2020). The place of birth can also shape vulnerabilities. Migrants often live in highly exposed areas, such riverbanks (MIMP & IOM 2015; Rojas-Medina et al. 2008), while knowledge about hazards and coping strategies can depend on the duration of residence (Langill 2018; List 2016). External factors can further increase vulnerabilities. Such factors may include demographic growth and resource degradation in areas with limited diversification options, or policies that undermine traditional Indigenous institutions, social cohesion, and disaster risk reduction and management (DRR/DRM) knowledge (Zavaleta et al. 2018).

The available evidence on strategies to manage rainforest floods is robust (whereas prior evidence on hazards outside this study’s focus is limited).^{Footnote 10} Amazonian farmers usually can adapt to regular, annual floods, some of which can create benefits such as better access to fishing (Coomes et al. 2010).^{Footnote 11} However, exceptional floods often exceed people’s capacities. In one study, 71% of respondents could not do anything to respond to flood shocks to agriculture, which stresses extant limits to adaptation (List 2016). Poor lowland farmers’ strategies tend to be limited: they lack upland holdings which are usually spared by floods to diversify livelihoods; are too poor for precautionary savings; lack financial networks for credits; and their few assets which could be converted to money are often destroyed by floods (Coomes et al. 2010). Other strategies to mitigate food insecurity after floods include harvest delay and crop mix changes or shifts (Hofmeijer et al. 2013; Sherman et al. 2015). Engaging in off-farm work, including day labor, is also common (Langill 2018; Takasaki et al. 2004), although not in remote areas (Coomes et al. 2010). Some households invest in basic physical protection such as fortifying shelter, which can offer partial protection but also increase attachment to at-risk flood zones (Sherman et al. 2015). Finally, households in the Selva also cope with floods through migration, and occasionally, entire communities are relocated, as discussed next.

Individual and household migration is frequent after annual and exceptional rainforest floods. Since these flows are not the focus of this study, this section only briefly discusses them.^{Footnote 12} In many Amazonian settlements, inhabitants have migration experiences, especially if close to urban areas (Langill 2018). Floods strongly influence migration.^{Footnote 13} First, in standard flood years, rural dwellers, especially the youth, often migrate for seasonal harvests or urban work during the rainy season, when rainwater constrains subsistence food production (Hofmeijer et al. 2013; Langill 2018). These migrants often use extended family networks for jobs, shelter, and food at their destination (Sherman et al. 2015; Sherman et al. 2016). Consecutive floods shocks and the erosion of traditional livelihoods, however, can also induce permanent migration (Hofmeijer et al. 2013; Sherman et al. 2015; Sherman et al. 2016). Second, contrary to this anticipatory migration, moving can be an “almost-instantaneous response” to exceptional floods (Sherman et al. 2016: 561). After major floods, prior studies report that 6% to 22% of residents migrate temporarily (Coomes et al. 2010; List 2016; Takasaki et al. 2004), and others find that up to one third of residents left permanently to a close-by city for jobs (Sherman et al. 2015; Sherman et al. 2016). Simultaneously, these studies emphasize that many affected people lack social and financial resources to escape hazards (Sherman et al. 2015; Sherman et al. 2016).

In cases when entire poor villages are at risk, community-wide migration can occur, which is the focus of this study. While such relocations can improve human security in certain cases (Ferris & Weerasinghe 2020), experiences in South America and worldwide are rife with challenges (Arnall 2019; Bower & Weerasinghe 2021; Cernea 2004; Correa 2011). Past examples in Peru frequently harmed livelihoods and threatened well-being (see review in Bergmann et al. 2021a). Planners often paid insufficient attention to social, cultural, and land issues; infrastructure, livelihood, and transportation necessities; and people’s place attachment. Many of the affected people declined to move, returned, or maintained dual residencies. In the Selva specifically, relocations, such as an attempted large-scale relocation of a neighborhood in Iquitos, have also had adverse effects (Bernales 2019; Desmaison et al. 2018; Estrada et al. 2018; Lavell et al. 2016; Vásquez et al. 2018).

Despite this conflicted past use, global “momentum is shifting towards planned relocation” (Farbotko et al. 2020: 703) and various Peruvian frameworks embrace planned relocation as a strategic solution to prevent that people settle in risk zones or remove them from such zones (French et al. 2020; Lavell et al. 2016). For example, the Regional Climate Strategies of Cusco and Junín consider it as a priority action.^{Footnote 14} In 2012, Peru adopted a law on relocation from areas with “very high, unmitigable risk”, one of the rare existing examples worldwide,^{Footnote 15} which covers most areas of action recommended by international guidance, from planning, participation, transfer, and livelihood restoration to monitoring and evaluation (see Bergmann 2021). However, the well-being analysis in section 6.2.3 shows that the road from well-meaning legislation to good practice is still long in Peru.

For future migration flows in Peru’s rainforest, the climate projections debated above may have several repercussions. Fewer rainy days but more intense rainfall events, together with intensifying wet season flood pulses and wetness extremes, could create rising needs for relocations and displacements from the many poor villages along Peru’s rainforest rivers. Simultaneously, the effects of increasing droughts for migration remain uncertain; people often attempt to cope on-site first but their adaptive capacities may become overwhelmed as impacts intensify (Koubi et al. 2016). People in the Selva will suffer from a high risk of occupational heat exposure and deadly heat over extended periods, with likely extreme health risks. Open-air manual labor, currently the norm, could become unbearable while indoor ventilation would be prohibitively expensive for most poor people (Dunne et al. 2013). In addition, the rainforest itself is at risk of dying back or degrading severely. If deadly heat and rainforest degradation combined, they would reduce the habitability of the Selva extensively and thereby displace gradually more at-risk groups, such as subsistence farmers. Many others could become trapped. The full migration repercussions of this extreme scenario are difficult to estimate.

In the next section, I analyze how the long-delayed but completed (V3) and the still-stalled (V4) flood-driven relocations from two rainforest villages have affected people’s well-being.

2 Empirical Results

In May 2019, I interviewed 30 people (14 m / 16f) from V3, which had completed its relocation after years, and V4, which remained in limbo (Figure 6.8). The average (and median) age of respondents was 47 years, with a range of 22 to 62 years (Table 6.1). Most households were similarly poor. Focused on smallholder subsistence crop farming or day labor, they complementarily relied on forest and river products. In V3, interviewees produced corn, rice, yucca, plantains, and beans for auto-consumption. Approximately 10% to 20% sold parts of their outputs. Several engaged in day labor, either constantly or as a complementary, temporary activity. Women often worked in housekeeping, helped with farming and day labor, and raised free-range animals. Few households possessed cows for milk production or for converting them into money after shocks. A limited number of households had off-farm incomes, for example through work in transportation services or as civil servants. Similarly, most villagers in V4 were poor subsistence crop farmers with free-range animals. Various of them worked on small patches of land ranging from 0.5 to 2 ha because inheritance mechanisms have reduced field sizes in the growing village. Several farmers have started to produce organic cacao^{Footnote 16} and sugar cane, although their isolated location hampered market access for vending. A few farmers in V4 also fished or hunted, whereas day labor was less common in V4 than in V3.

Table 6.1 Basic data on interviewees from the rainforest villages V3 and V4

Full size table

To gather background material, I also talked to staff at San Martín’s Regional Office of Security and National Defense (and at provincial and district levels); staff at the Regional Environmental Authority (ARA), its Executive Directorate of Territorial Management, and its Regional Technical Group on Climate Change; as well as mayors, religious leaders, and health post workers in the study sites.

2.1 Climate Change Dimensions

When asked which hazards affected their livelihoods, close to all interviewees cited floods (Figure 6.9). They said that V3 and V4 are located directly by two different rivers that cause fluvial flood risk; for V4, surrounding ravines compound such risk during intense rainfalls. More than two thirds also identified weather-driven diseases that harmed people, and about a quarter pests or diseases damaging animals or crops. Finally, about one fifth observed changes in temperature and rainfall.

Respondents in V3 and V4 experience varied types of floods. V3 was affected by single, large floods in 1963 and in 1999. The incident in 1999 was the largest flood the villagers had ever experienced; it caused unanticipated damage and triggered the relocation decision. Heavy rainfall inundated all houses in the village and adjacent fields by as much as 1.5 to 2.2 m:

Look, it was winter, the first flood came. We already know, as we have been living here for years, we already know what level the water reaches, what height, and the water came as it should be,… [but then] it has risen big.… The water has entered from above here and it was coming through the mountains, and the worst thing is that we did not see it coming… Yes, 2.2 meters more or less it was… and some houses have been knocked down, and from that time we began to plan to be able to leave, to find a place where we can relocate to, since 1999…. (V3-5)

Conversely, farmers in V4 suffer from partial floods below 0.5 m between one to three times every year, mostly in the rainy season. These annual floods cause damage mainly in low-lying parts of the village but usually develop slowly and leave time to react. Beyond, however, major floods inundated V4 in 1977 and 2015. In 2015, water flooded the entire village in the early morning from the river and two ravines, and the inundation reached 1.2 to 1.6 m:

Can’t you see there is a ravine there, the river pushes that ravine over there, and on the other side there is another ravine; they both push each other, and the water comes here, it doesn’t come from there but comes from behind… When it comes during the day at least you can move, but when it catches us at night there is no way out, it is not possible and so it has happened several times. I remember one time I was in my bed, and it was cold, and the water was already all over the bed and I was desperate, I couldn’t even get out. (V4-11)

In addition, villagers observed rising intensities of rainfall and related mudslides and storms:

Too much rain, too, before it wasn’t like that but now… [Y]ou never saw it spilling over the hills, but now yes, the hills are washed down with the rain, floods come from the ravines, from the river. (V4-17)

Moreover, villagers in V3 and V4 perceived changes in timing and intensities of rainfall seasons:

[M]ore or less before, there was what we used to call campañas, seasons, but now we can’t see campañas anymore. The weather is crazy, any time it can rain, or the sun shines. (V3-6)

These shifts have harmed crops:

When the plant is blooming, there may be rainfall of no more than an hour and the next day massive sun, which then causes that plant to produce as if it was burned, and the production is spoiled. (V4-6)

Excessive humidity and more heat have increased pests and plagues, which have severely harmed crops. More heat has also worsened human health and possibilities for open-air labor in both villages:

… [W]e almost live in the agricultural fields, every day, and we feel that there is an immense change, and the rain sometimes exceeds, as well as the warming. There are days when heat arrives that cannot be endured; previously, 15 to ten years ago, we still worked eight hours, we worked normal. Now we only work six hours, we must get up early now, the routine is that we get up at 5am in the morning and we are already arriving at the farm, until 12pm and from there no more, the heat does not allow it… Before, it was minimal, it reached 30 °C, today it reaches 40, 45 °C…. (V4-6)

Further stressors included deforestation in the surroundings of both villages, which some farmers presumed to be the reason behind weather changes. Leaders in V4 reported pressure induced by migrants who extracted wood and cleared forests for agriculture. The village, aware of the importance of healthy ecosystems for their survival, has tried to defend itself against such agricultural expansion:

We say that it is our reserve, and we have to keep it as such… since in the end we are going to live here all our lives, until the day we are going to die… [M]ostly, what we want is to protect our forests as that’s where the water springs come from. If we deforest there, we will see no more water. (V4-2)

The lowland, poor mestizos in V3 and the extremely poor Indígenas in V4 applied different preparation and adaptation strategies for these hazards. Yet, they had limited options for the latest, intensive floods in 1999 and 2015. To cope with the instant impacts, both villages used mutual assistance like food sharing. The few farmers who could rescue animals sold them to finance food:

We always raise animals and we had to try to protect them by doing everything possible so that they did not die in the flood… Then [selling] allowed us to sustain ourselves till all that was over. (V4-6)

However, because many animals drowned, few farmers had assets to smooth income losses, and credits were widely unavailable. To alleviate food insecurity, farmers had to wait three months until the soil dried to sow again, and between three to twelve months to harvest again. Meanwhile, the Indígenas attempted to plant fast-growing crops, collected wild plants, and hunted animals:

Well, we dedicate ourselves to other activities, for example, fast short-term crops such as beans, corn, … vegetables are also short-term, and then we wait to recover the production that generates more income. (V4-6)

Farmers in V3 and V4 also engaged in off-farm work, such as day labor.

Eventually, the severe flood damage and the lack of protection options claimed by the state led to the decision to request relocation to safer zones (see section 6.2.2), as a village leader explained:

The only option they gave us was relocation… The municipality, when civil defense came, never spoke of riverine protection… It is that the river has moved soil, in that part you can’t make a riverine defense. You make a defense, the same flow of the river will eat the bases and it carries it away. (V3-3)

In V4, after the 2015 flood and delays in the relocation (see section 6.2.2 below), households have started to invest in basic physical protection such as fortifying shelter. These measures may offer partial protection, but have also increased attachment to a dangerous flood zone, and they have drained scarce resources needed for a possible future relocation and rebuilding:

… [M]ost here are improving their houses with columns, they are no longer made of sticks, now they are pure concrete columns, so they are making it difficult to leave from one place to another. (V4-9)

Regarding other hazards such as increasing heat, interviewees explained for example that they adjusted the hours during which they performed outside labor to avoid overheating.

2.2 Migration Dimensions

Several migration patterns from the villages are of interest: first, general flows; second, displacement forced by floods, especially in 1999 and 2015; third, return or onward migration after these floods; and fourth, ensuing immobility and relocation processes, as completed for V3 and still stalled for V4.

First, continuous, rural-to-urban migration from V3 and V4 has been mostly driven by economic and educational reasons. However, the number of such migrants has been small, to a large extent because farmers have not possessed required resources, networks, and education for moving.

Second, floods have been a main driver of migration. In V4, unlike in V3, annual floods can displace certain households from houses without second floors in low parts of the village. By contrast, major floods—the latest in 1999 and 2015—damaged many houses and threatened lives in both villages, thus causing widespread acute forced migration for survival. Even households with basic protection measures in place, such as houses elevated on stilts, were displaced. As the waters rose dangerously high, most of the highly exposed villagers had few choices but to leave:

In the afternoon, it was the flood; [it was] the first time that the water has grabbed us like this, in a big way, those drains there, all those drains have grown and they have unified with the river and that river has grown very big, and the water has flooded us… my house has been knocked down by the water, we were on the trail for three months…. (V3-20)

Third, flood damages, residual waters, and concerns about more floods impeded return at first. Yet, most eventually returned to their houses because they lacked alternatives. Some older adults felt trapped due to obligations to children and limited job prospects elsewhere. Only 20 families from V3 migrated to cities after the flood due to the losses, hunger, and the lack of development prospects; the few residents from V4 who migrated farther did so temporarily for day labor to support their families.

Fourth, the forced migrants who had returned to V3 and V4 decided to request relocation soon after the latest major floods^{Footnote 17} due to the continued flood exposure and development challenges, the lack of physical protection options claimed by authorities, and the lack of aspirations or resources to migrate farther away. In response, the state declared the villages as areas of “very high, unmitigable risk”, in line with Peru’s relocation law. However, only V3 relocated in 2014, after having waited for 15 years, whereas the relocation of V4 has been stalled since 2015, as is explained next.

2.2.1 Initial Displacement, Entrapment, and Completed Relocation in V3

After the 1999 flood, the farmers’ initial, acute displacement in V3 lasted between one to twelve weeks, depending on damages and related return possibilities. Poverty hindered movement to safer zones farther away and most fled over short distances to a nearby trail at first. Many villagers had no choice but to return and live in the damaged homes for weeks once the flood waters had receded.

Due to the experienced damage, fear of future floods, and the lack of physical protection possibilities, residents soon decided in community meetings that they needed to relocate to a nearby, higher area (anticipatory forced migration). The village and staff at Civil Defense made a relocation plan. While personal leadership of a governor helped initiate the relocation, later governance failures and poverty obstructed the aspired relocation greatly. Because the state did not provide land for the relocation, the poor villagers ended up trapped and struggled for over ten years to acquire needed land privately. Meanwhile, people suffered from continued hazard exposure, uncertainty, and mental health burdens. Subsequent movement depended on people’s resources: only few wealthier families migrated to other places; those who had experienced moderate flood damages and had been able to rebuild stayed to wait for relocation; and the households most affected by the flood already moved to nearby zones out of necessity, often under survival or distress conditions:

…We have left little by little. Someone already built their house, from there, another one made one, and thus gradually one could see that [the houses] were forming and the largest share began to leave… They were already building their little houses here because they were the most affected…. (V3-15)

After years in suspension, the villagers eventually succeeded in swapping land with a local agribusiness. Once the new land—around 700 m from the previous site and on higher grounds—was secured, movement again proceeded gradually in function of resources, and mostly under distress conditions. The first villagers moved in 2011 and slowly started constructing shelter. Others who lacked money for rebuilding relocated as late as in 2017. In mid-2019, when I collected the data, all residents had relocated. Although the state had still neither issued the final resolution to register the relocated site nor approved a land-use change, which caused problems, most farmers perceived the relocation as a “good decision” (V3-1) and aspired to stay in the destination (see section 6.2.3).

The relocatees have maintained limited connections back to their previous, nearby settlement. The houses on the land transferred to an agribusiness were decaying and a few farmers used them to raise small animals. Some reported that they still periodically visited the old cemetery. Others, especially older residents, still nostalgically spent time by the riverbed and used the river for bathing.

2.2.2 Initial Displacement, Stalled Relocation, and Prolonged Entrapment in V4

V4 has suffered from slow, annual floods that can cause short-distance displacement, typically from homes in low-lying zones to houses of unaffected relatives or to huts in uphill fields. While such floods can cause ample damage, they normally do not last long and only drive short displacements.

By contrast, the exceptional flood in 2015 acutely forced all villagers to flee. Most either walked or went by boat to their field huts or to the hills and spent between three to eight days there before returning. Several households also had to remain on the second floors of flooded homes for days:

We went upstairs, to my brother-in-law’s house…, they have a second floor, there we go up with all the animals, like Noah [laughs]… [T]here were eleven [people] plus the animals [laughs]… [The floor is] more or less 32 square meters… [and we spent] eight days there. (V4-5)

Most of the farmers stayed in the flood zone because they lacked resources to live elsewhere, or expressively desired to stay in their community and their native land. Few families left V4.

Instead, most residents aspired to relocate as a whole village to a nearby safer zone. In a meeting after the 2015 flood, villagers as well as district and Regional authorities agreed to relocate (anticipatory forced migration) to an envisaged territory that is elevated, safer, and close to the village and fields. Farmers decided to relocate because they feared new major floods; suffered from annual floods which perpetually interfered with development; and hoped for a better future for their children:

About the relocation, the idea emerged because this village floods a lot, so the idea came up of wanting to live better. And thinking about the children, to be able to put the children in a zone so that they no longer suffer as we have been suffering. How much have we suffered, since being children we have suffered with the flooding, that’s why the idea came up. (V4-5)

Only a minority aspired to stay, noting that they would miss the proximity to the river where they had grown up. Others were afraid of the costs of moving; that it would take time to receive basic services; that the state would not support them; and that new lots would be too small. Some worried that diseases like dengue might be more common in the new zone, and that the area, although safer from river floods, could still be exposed to floods from ravines (see section 6.2.4: Outlook on the future).

However, governance failures and poverty have hindered the relocation so far. The Indígenas expressed frustration that the Regional government had promised the major share of funds for acquiring land for the relocation in 2015, but has not delivered since, seemingly due to changing staff and priorities in an ineffective bureaucracy. Further aggravating the problems, the owner of the most fitting land inflated prices to exploit the opportunity for government money. Authorities have not adopted the suggestion of technical experts to expropriate with compensation at real costs, as permitted by Peru’s relocation law. The extremely poor farmers have been unable to afford to buy own land or to migrate individually to safer grounds, and most of them would only be able to move if land was free of cost. In the meantime, hardly any households could afford to buy lots in the envisaged destination individually, and even these households lacked money to build new houses.

Village leaders remarked their legally guaranteed participation rights in the relocation have been infringed. Simultaneously, they have lacked access to the political system to make their case, and regularly traveling to the capital was prohibitively expensive. In 2019, the Indígenas said, “It’s been four years now and we have hardly advanced at all” (V4-2). They felt like “going in circles, you are trapped” (V4-3) and neglected: “When there is a flood, they tell us that relocation is going to happen; when the flood has passed, they have already forgotten again” (V4-10). Families complained about the lack of support from the authorities, whom they accused of indifference, cheating, and corruption:

As I say, here in Peru, the government has money to support us but the only thing they do is for themselves, they only think about themselves. Why do you think that several governments are in jail?… [T]hey steal more, clearly, and nothing more, little and nothing are they interested in the people here in the village. Many times you trust them, that that guy is going to become president and things are going to change; and that happens with many authorities who enter [office], even here in this very town. Compatriots, people from here, who know our reality, become authorities, only to suddenly make profit for themselves, for their own accounts. (V4-20)

The accumulated obstructions ended in one incident where frustrated villagers refused to let go state representatives after a meeting to press the Regional governor to fulfil his promises. The act, which the state perceived as hostage taking, hardened lines. As delays in the relocation process have extended, more people have expressed doubts if an eventual relocation would guarantee acceptable outcomes. Although a few were becoming too frustrated to move, most retained hopes that relocation would improve their plight (see section 6.2.3: Outlook on the future). Many stated that, “If the village tells us we are going to leave, we will leave” (V4-11). A mother in her mid–50s explained, “I already think about staying, but if they would all leave now, we would leave” (V4-17).

2.3 Well-Being Dimensions: Migrants from V3 After the Belated, Completed Relocation

In the next subsections, I analyze how these two flood-driven entrapment and relocation processes in Peru’s Selva have affected people’s well-being and apply the four axes developed in section 2.3: development from a secure base, a space to live better, and social relatedness (objective well-being, OWB), as well as subjective well-being (SWB).

2.3.1 Development from a Secure Base

2.3.1.1 Decent Livelihoods

Climate change has severely harmed livelihoods in V3.^{Footnote 18} The major flood in 1999, in particular, destroyed most of people’s agricultural assets: “[A]ll the fields have been destroyed; animals, cattle, pigs, sheep, all have been washed away by the river” (V3-10). Sowing new crops and harvesting again took up to one year and meanwhile, residents had to switch their livelihood activities. They lamented the shortage of humanitarian assistance and alleged that corruption impeded recovery.

After the flood, the farmers requested to relocate and succeeded in doing so after a long time. In a lucky coincidence, they received access to jobs in a private canalization project when the relocation started, which temporarily lifted their incomes and supported the reconstruction (see section 6.2.3: Adequate housing). After the project had finished, most villagers returned to farming as they lacked alternatives.^{Footnote 19} Nonetheless, various farmers stressed that the relocation has improved incomes, because the new, nearby land was both close enough to their fields and directly by a street, which made it easier for them to sell their products and get hired for day labor (see 6.2.3: Basic services). Many perceived economic gains because the improved street access also enabled them to benefit from an overall increased labor demand:

Well, we are happy because there is work, we do not lack work… [H]ere they look for [day labor for] corn planting, far from other places [they come] to look for peons, whereas there in [the old site in] the back, as it was in the back, people did not enter. (V3-17)

Although the relocation has improved access to jobs and markets for most farmers, agriculture and day labor still only yielded unstable and precarious incomes only just enough to survive or support their children. Purchasing power has not increased because higher costs of living evened out gains:

Yes, since we have grown up until now, we have been day laborers… [A] small part has changed as down where we lived before, we lacked someone to come and invest, to be able to earn. Now there are investors in papaya, rice… [There is] a little more work, but not to earn enough, no, if not to support our children at least…. (V3-19)

… [S]ometimes there are no jobs. Here we only work to eat no more, sometimes there is nothing, well … We have an adolescent who is studying, sometimes we have to send him his little money … because there is no job, you cannot get money together. (V3-12)

A minor challenge for livelihood restoration emerged from the relocation planners’ limited attention to people’s lifestyles (see section 6.2.3: A space to live better): the newly designated, smaller lots complicated traditional activities like raising free-range animals and producing vegetables.

2.3.1.2 Health and Food Security

The 1999 flood greatly affected people’s physical and mental health and raised burdens of infectious diseases and trauma (see also section 6.2.3: Emotional balance and cognitive satisfaction).^{Footnote 20} For example, after the flood, villagers “fainted in despair, they fell ill from the humidity” (V3-19) and the “children cried with fear, we have never seen [that before]” (V3-7). Anxiety persisted for long:

… [O]ver there the river grew, we could not sleep, [thinking that] suddenly the water will carry us away, like we have seen before. Well, young man, the water has come, and that made us afraid. When it rained for weeks, we were frightened. (V3-17)

The flood’s destruction also harmed physical health and food security for long. The mayor detailed that the village had suffered two years of famine until the agricultural production recovered. In addition, the time-consuming rebuilding of shelter during the relocation challenged people’s health (see section 6.2.3: Adequate housing). At the time of the interviews, various houses still lacked solid walls and exposed people to the weather. Views on the quality of health service provision in the new site were divided, but people perceived that basic infrastructure and materials had worsened compared to the old site. Unlike before, villagers could not afford to build a health post but only rented a shed for health services. On the positive side, the better road access simplified traveling for health services.

2.3.1.3 Educational Opportunities

After relocation, the villagers had to construct a new school in a community effort and with their own resources. When interviewed, they stated that the service quality had reached a similar (low) level as in their old site. Yet, because authorities had still not officially registered the physical relocation (see 6.2.3: A space to live better) and thus new funds were pending, the facilities remained inadequate:

The infrastructures down there [in the old site], initial, primary school: everything was well made, of noble material, and here today … we do not have a good infrastructure. We have done everything with the efforts of the people, like this, we have done it jointly by ourselves, to be able to have at least something… We have built it, but it is somewhat rustic… as I say, when the supervision of the UGEL comes [Directory of the Local Educational Management Unit of the Ministry of Education], the first thing they see is that the infrastructure of the facilities is not adequate. (V3-3)

After relocation, improved street access eased commuting for pupils who attended schools in other towns (see 6.2.3: Basic services). Still, many farmers dreamt of a better future for their children (see 6.2.3: Outlook on the future) but could not afford costs for higher education. For example, a farmer hoped his children could “progress [salir adelante]”, but also noted, “Right now we don’t have more options to enable them to study the careers they want, the economic means are just low” (V3-11).

2.3.2 A Space to Live Better

Years after relocating, the state had still neither issued the final resolution to register the relocated site nor approved a land-use change from rural to urban. Both steps were prerequisites for receiving property titles and thus access to social programs, such as housing support, as envisaged by law:

In February 2018, we already made the full submission, all the documentation for the relocation plan, so that we can finally be registered. Almost a year and a half have passed and nothing… [T]he PCM [Presidency of the Council of Minister, responsible government entity] over there are messing up and we have nothing…. (V3-3)

The interviewees cited a lack of political will, interest, and skilled personnel, rotating functionaries, as well as competing priorities of authorities in attending disasters as reasons for the delays. Lacking the means to make their voices heard, the villagers felt that, “[We] are not recognized on the map, we are separated from the map, that is why we cannot have any support; … it is as if this village would not exist” (V3-6). People were disappointed with the authorities who failed to support them:

Yes, they [the officials] have arrived but they have done nothing, they came to talk, talk no more, but we do not see anything, more than five years and we have no answers, there is no support for anything even though they know about the situation. (V3-6)

2.3.2.1 Adequate Housing

The flood in 1999 severely and lastingly damaged shelter: “At first it was uncomfortable, we had nothing, even now all we have is thanks to our sacrifice, we had no electricity, we had no water, and the houses were tents” (V3-3). As the state cleared and plotted the relocation land but never delivered promised rebuilding support, many farmers could not move for long. In a lucky coincidence, they received access to jobs in a private canalization project (see section 6.2.3: Decent livelihoods). The farmers used this income to slowly rebuild their houses without the legally promoted state support:

… [F]rom there, we have started to improve our houses, make our houses bigger… and with better materials than before… Without [the construction jobs], now we would still be in tents…. (V3-3)

By the time of the interviews, most homes still had dirt floors, but other outcomes had diverged: various farmers had larger houses with improved materials such as bricks, whereas others lived only in makeshift housing, some of which consisted of scaffolding and blankets instead of walls. The inadequate shelter caused hardship especially for older, younger, sick, and pregnant villagers:

First when we came, we went covered with blankets, when we arrived, as there was no money…. It costs a lot, two years ago we have just succeeded in building our house… We suffered like this, the wind was strong, even our mattress was wet… We cried, one suffered here. Little by little my husband has been fixing the house … Little by little then, you can’t do things like that if there is no money. (V3-7)

Finally, the relocation design paid limited attention to people’s lifestyle: the new lots are smaller, which complicated traditional activities close to the house, such as raising free-range animals.

2.3.2.2 Basic Services

At the beginning of their relocation, villagers lacked light, water, and other basic services, which complicated the transition. Some farmers needed more than a year to grow used to the new situation. Because promised service improvements were delayed, the community staged demonstrations to demand change. Over time, various services became available and some of them, such as light, improved compared to the previous site. Yet, the villagers were disappointed that they were still worse off than other “modern villages”, and said, “We want to live as others live, to have what others have, basic services” (V3-3). They felt that the state had lured them into relocation by promising better services but never delivered, and complained that progress resulted mainly from their own efforts:

There we are still, just surviving. To us, they painted everything in bright colors in the relocation plan, to come and live here… They said they were going to build us our houses, that from the moment we make the relocation plan, they are going to give us our infrastructure, health post, kindergarten, education but… the grand people who came from CENEPRED [institution in charge of relocations], from the government, they practically deceived us. Until now, it is a deception, young man… Then, seeing that we do not have support, the people took the reins of work, with the sweat of our forehead. All we have, what little we have, is thanks to ourselves. (V3-3)

Concerning water, the farmers had to use the river water for consumption in the previous site, which caused a small number of cholera cases. After relocation, they initially lacked water:

The first days, it really looked difficult when there was no water or light here, it felt uncomfortable, well, but right now we are calmer here. When there was no water and electricity, water was to be brought from afar, it is not like when you have water at home. (V3-7)

Tubes for river water were installed one year after relocation, but the quantity has occasionally been insufficient, and farmers needed to buy drinking water from costly external sources. Similar as in the old site, they lacked sanitation and sewerage systems, yet the new, smaller lots worsened the situation because people now lacked space for wastewaters and their bathrooms were susceptible to rainfalls:

The big difference was that down there we had very large lots, that is, we could build silos wherever we wanted. Currently our lots are only 10x20 meters and the smallest thing you can do for the bathrooms is 4x4 meters, not 3x3 meters, but with the rains the grounds are muddy, they currently are collapsing. Some residents have up to three catholes in their gardens, there is no more space. (V3-3)

In particular, the associated health risks have caused hardship for at-risk groups. Due to the lack of drainage, rainfalls also often created small ponds breeding mosquitos and infectious diseases.

Conversely, electricity has improved. In the old site, farmers had used candles and generators for a few hours of electricity and light per day. One year after relocating, they received electricity. Yet, they had to build much of the infrastructure for light themselves due to the limited state support:

Everything we want, we pressed ourselves… In 2014, when people began to come, there was no light here… [W]e put up the poles with the support of the people, we provided the labor…. (V3-3)

Next, the reduced distance from the street after relocating positively affected well-being. The close-by road facilitated traveling for health services (see section 6.2.3: Health and food security) and eased commuting for pupils who attended schools in other towns (see 6.2.3: Educational opportunities). It also improved access to markets and jobs (see 6.2.3: Decent livelihoods):

Here, then, [we are] much better, do you know why? Because here they come to sell everything, we live near the track. Because living over there in the back, nothing was going to sell. (V3-17)

Finally, street access also decreased perceived isolation and disconnectedness. As a farmer remarked,

It was different over there because the village was isolated, and now it can be seen… [We’re in] a more visible part, because before we were like forgotten in the back, nobody saw us…. The town was isolated… [W]e are better located, closer to the road… Here it is already an ‘urban’ area. (V3-3)

2.3.2.3 Pleasant Surroundings

The natural environment in the new site was largely unchanged apart, from a slightly larger distance from the river, which some villagers missed. The farmers seemed mostly satisfied with their rural surroundings and nature, noting that, “They way we live, it seems fine to us” (V3-15). After relocation, some villagers praised the more condensed design in the new site and stated, “Now the town is more orderly, the houses, the streets are [well-]designed” (V3-10). Yet others missed the proximity to their farmlands, free-range animals, as well as the previously larger, natural and recreational spaces:

We had more space, we were able to recreate, more than anything under the trees, in the gardens there … We no longer have that, we cannot plant trees here because it takes up space… So right now, here we have more heat… over there was fresh air, now not anymore… [It is] more closed, oppressed … The birds no longer come [laughs]. (V3-6)

Yet even the unsatisfied farmers conceded to the change, “Since that is how they have distributed us … but what are we going to do, if they have given us [lots] like this, we have to accept [it]” (V3-18).

2.3.2.4 Safety from Hazards

The relocation achieved its central goal to move people out of the dangerous, low-lying flood zone directly by the river.^{Footnote 21} The destination site—higher and farther away from the river—remains largely unaffected by rainfall. A woman explained that, “Well, compared to before we feel calmer now. At night, we no longer think that we are going to flood [nervous laughter], calmer we do feel here, yes” (V3-7). According to the mayor, minor exposure to hazards resulted from smaller pluvial floods and overflowing canals due to drainage problems, but impacts had reduced thanks to new protection:

Floods? Not anymore, only when it rains too much it floods us, it floods us from here, from what comes out of a canal… [but] it is not the same as the river. When the river grows, it floods us all… It always overflows, but it doesn’t reach us here…, yes, it overflows, to the [previous site of our] little town, but not over here. If we were still in that village, until now the river would affect us… Little by little we have been adjusting. When we came for the first time [to the new site] we had no drainage, the entire lower part was flooded again and we had no experience with that flooding; and we gave it a solution with drains but there is still much to do anyway, it always floods, but not in exaggeration. (V3-3)

2.3.2.5 Security

In V3, the floods and the relocation did not lead to security threats and the farmers felt safer than before. As the old village had been “quite isolated” (V3-16) and farther from the road “armed” men had sporadically threatened them. Now, “They no longer enter like that as we are close to the road” (V3-7). A woman explained that the availability of light had also improved their security (V3-19).

2.3.3 Social Relatedness

The villagers observed that they had continuously lived in unity in their moderately-sized village and relocation has had marginal, positive effects on relationships. The social system has been conserved since all farmers relocated and they clustered in spatially similar ways as before. The villagers have maintained their customs, and most were happy about the continued good coexistence with neighbors and larger community: “Yes, we live in peace, we do not have a bad life, here in this village, we live pure families. Over there, it was the same” (V3-9). Neighbors were in closer and more regular contact due to the dense clustering of the houses compared to their prior scattered, larger lots. Additionally, the better availability of light (see section 6.2.3: Basic services) enabled more meetings and thereby contributed to relationships. The better road access also facilitated better connections with contacts in other cities. Assertiveness and solidarity have continued, and people have used established support systems like food sharing, mutual support for the sick, and reciprocal harvest assistance.

The challenging relocation process has further unified V3. Their unity and community action have been key drivers of progress: villagers had to make efforts to find land themselves (see section 6.2.2) and after relocating, they staged demonstrations to express their disappointment with initially missing infrastructure and services (see 6.2.3: Basic services). People’s relationships also benefited from the need to work together as a community to reconstruct the village. With little external support, people across age and sex groups have given free labor for community tasks like earthworks and rebuilding the school and parish hall. Villagers have fought to realize the relocation and to avoid some of the worst possible risks with their own “bare fist, with the sweat of their foreheads, all the residents collaborating … [while] the state has not given us any support” (V3-3).

2.3.4 SWB Dimensions

2.3.4.1 Emotional Balance and Cognitive Satisfaction

In V3, respondents suffered for long from the losses and havoc wreaked by the flood in 1999. Many reported trauma and continued anxiety:

One lived with that fear, that at any moment water will flood us; suddenly, when one is sleeping, the river can flood us like this. We have lived terrified with that. (V3-16)

By contrast, most interviewees reported relief and joy that the relocation had greatly reduced exposure (see section 6.2.3: Safety from hazards). For example, a female farmer in her early 50s and mother of three children explained, “[W]e no longer live thinking that the river is going to flood us, we live more calmly, we sleep calmly, unlike before…” (V3-16). Like her, most respondents named decreased exposure as a primary reason that they felt more satisfied with life and had more positive emotions. They also cited similar or better social relations, improving living standards, as well as reduced isolation. For example, a female farmer stated that she was “well, much better here” given the improved road access, and felt “calmer” as well as “happier, now that there is more work” (V3-17).

While some respondents felt pleased from the start, many others described initial sadness to leave their homes: “I, from over there, from my little house, I came crying when I left my house, the work of my husband” (V3-10). For many, especially older adults, it took long to grow used to their new homes, often due to the arduous reconstruction and the delays in improving basic services (see 6.2.3: Basic services). They said “leaving our home, living in another way” made them “worried” initially, but they had come to feel “now calmer, more amazed at life” (V3-6). One respondent had been “sad for more than eight months” after relocating but now felt “calmer, all of us are used to it” (V3-20).

Conversely, other farmers reported that their cognitive satisfaction had not changed. For example, a mother of two remarked that it was “almost the same, really” as before (V3-14)), despite slight economic advances and better accessibility thanks to the relocation, which she welcomed.

However, people also voiced frustration, anger, and disappointment due to recurrent governance failures (see section 6.2.3: A space to live better): “They have not given me any support, that is why I have said that I am resentful…” (V3-16). The mayor criticized that, “All entities have come—health, education, energy, transportation—each and everyone has made a commitment, but everything was pure blah blah blah” (V3-3). They felt tired and upset by the delays and alleged corruption:

Three years is already too much. Sometimes, it seems to me that they give little importance to small villages; in large towns… they already have water, drainage, everything. Only here we are obstructed… we do not have any kind of support… There is a lot of corruption, that’s why I say heck…. (V3-19)

2.3.4.2 Outlook on the Future

Various respondents did not think about their own future but focused on the lives of their children, for whom they desired to receive a better education to progress (salir adelante) (see section 6.2.3: Educational opportunities). A male farmer and day laborer, father of two children, explained that,

Well, for me to have a future later? No. I [think] of my children, to make them study, to give them the studies they need. When a child wants to study, we have to give with what we can, even by selling my pants [laughs]. That’s my idea, my thought, for my children. (V3-19)

Others felt hopeful that they could progress and life well in the future because the relocation had decreased exposure and improved development prospects (in combination with the better overall economic situation). Especially the idea of progressing (salir adelante) thanks to the new location was omnipresent and appeared like a genuine hope. For example, a farmer stated he felt “more hope” and more “progressing” compared to before, “Not over there, they [the authorities] didn’t even want to support us with anything, they told us as long as you don’t leave from there, there won’t be any support, so they told us” (V3-7). Others were optimistic that the land issues would be resolved and receiving titles would then improve access to social programs, basic services, and development. Character and faith also influenced outlooks. For example, a buoyant farmer sighed due to the costly rebuilding of shelter without support yet still felt “more hope for the future” than fear (V3-16). Conversely, the continued economic insecurity worried many farmers and especially day laborers:

Unfortunately, there is no such thing, there is no money. Here everyone is day laborer, they earn their 30 soles, 40 soles a day here… Nobody has more, we are all in the same condition. (V3-15)

2.4 Well-Being Dimensions: Aspiring Migrants from V4 in Prolonged Entrapment

2.4.1 Development from a Secure Base

2.4.1.1 Decent Livelihoods

In V4, annual floods have repeatedly strained livelihoods to a certain degree. By contrast, the major flood in 2015, which triggered the decision to relocate, resulted in severe and long-lasting damage, especially in lower-lying parts of the village. After the floodwaters had receded, many villagers returned to subsistence farming, but coping with the losses has proven difficult (see section 6.2.1):

It [the flood] took all my belongings… The crops are lost, it is totally lost… All, all is lost because when the corn floods, it does not flower, nor does the corn plant appear, all of it is water… [B]ecause when you go to the land, you only see mud… We almost nonstop lose the crops… This is how it happens, we work, I sell my juanes [traditional food] anyway, the husband works daily, from there we gain money for food. (V4-20)

When interviewed in 2019, various farmers had still not recovered. Only the few, less exposed persons said that incomes had not changed much. Few villagers were pleased with the received state support, and many criticized that it was insufficient to relieve damage and enable recovery: “They do not support us … they have given us nothing and a grain of sand, … they have forgotten us” (V4-10).

Because the relocation was stalled, V4 has remained at risk of a new major flood and its lower-lying parts have continued to suffer from annual incidents. The repeated flooding has prompted a downward spiral of poverty that has left households with minimal room for economic maneuver. Farmers feared having to trade off priorities—such as money for protection measures against money for education—and worried about the costs of rebuilding houses after a possible, future relocation.

2.4.1.2 Health and Food Security

Because many Indígenas lost their crops in the flood in 2015 and could not harvest or earn income that year, the flood triggered a prolonged period of hunger:^{Footnote 22}

Yes, we have suffered lots [sad]. When you find yourself like this, you can’t even go grocery shopping, you can’t do anything, not even cook… [W]e have been without eating all day….. (V4-11)

Flood water puddles increased mosquito breeding and left “a large quantity of diseases” (V4-10), including: “[F]lu, bone pain, infections… conjunctivitis, diarrhea, stomach pain… It is a depot of mosquitoes [nervous laughter]… [I]t was too much, you come and they finish you [laughs]” (V4-6). Additionally, water contamination after spills of wastewaters and bathrooms led to diseases:

The impacts of the flood? That’s what comes, well, diarrhea from the consumption of water that is not treated and from mosquitoes… [I]t is an area that is flat…, and there are many infectious puddles left there, of course mosquitoes reproduce there…. (V4-3)

The flood also severely harmed mental health and led to anxiety, trauma, and sadness (see also section 6.2.4: Emotional balance and cognitive satisfaction): “Sure, more than anything [we were] afraid, nervous. You do not know the amount of water that comes, well, how can you not be afraid?” (V4-10). The health risks were most severe for children: “Clearly, [I feel] anxiety of the diseases, it [the flood] leaves a terrible flu, we get sick a lot, much more than anything the children” (V4-11).

Past floods also damaged the health post and obstructed service provision; after such events, needed travel to health centers elsewhere posed financial obstacles for the poor villagers. The stalled relocation has led not only to continued exposure to flood-related health threats but further aggravated them: after V4 was declared a high-risk zone in 2017, the state canceled planned upgrades for health and health-related infrastructure, such as sanitation, because Peru’s relocation law forbids public investments in such zones (similarly for 6.2.4: Educational opportunities, Basic services):

Now, I tell you this is the documentation that the district mayor gave us, declaring [V4] as an area of high, unmitigable risk… That’s why now we don’t have investments here in the village. (V4-2).

Water, school infrastructure, the health post is not being built. In 2017, we were going to build our health post…, and it was not done… No investment, nor support; our water and sewerage was going to be done here in [V4] in 2016 and it has not been done due to relocation. (V4-3)

The Indígenas hoped that once they would secure new land and relocate, health investments would become possible. Yet, a few farmers also feared that the new site might raise risks of infectious diseases such as dengue: “[B]ecause according to what I hear, there are mosquitoes… more than here, where there is a season that mosquitoes arrive. But not there, there, it is every day” (V4-10).

2.4.1.3 Educational Opportunities

The intense flood in 2015 seriously damaged school buildings and induced a closure for several days: “Everything is muddy, we have to clean it up, that’s why even the school on this side is already falling apart, it is already collapsing” (V4-5). Villagers had to take their children to the cities for schooling. Due to the stalled relocation, flood exposure has continued, and lower annual floods still interrupt schooling for days to weeks. Moreover, infrastructure investments, including for education, stopped after V4 was declared a high-risk flood zone in 2017, while the young population has kept growing:

… [I]n 2016, we were going to build our educational center and it was not done either… What was removed is the investment that was going to be there, for… the improvement of the construction of the educational centers; that is what they took from us. (V4-3)

Nonetheless, farmers hoped that a later relocation would improve education: “Yes, it is decided to leave… for the safety for the lives of our children, because they need to have a good school” (V4-3).

2.4.2 A Space to Live Better

2.4.2.1 Adequate Housing

After the 2015 flood, rebuilding homes proved difficult for the poor farmers, while inadequate housing caused health issues and exposed them to adverse weather. Given the delays in the promised land acquisition, a few more affluent households started to fortify their homes in the flood zone against future hazards (see section 6.2.1). Yet most farmers lacked such options; they kept hoping that an eventual relocation would reduce their exposure and facilitate a safer life in better shelter:

Well, over there, the houses will no longer be flooded… [I] even [have] a hope of fixing our home, living like in a city, having our bathroom, our nice shower. (V4-5)

Yet the poor Indígenas also worried about the costly rebuilding after a possible, eventual relocation. Officials promised support once land would be secured and titled, but the weak governance experienced to date made farmers doubt if they would receive social support needed for reconstruction even if they relocated finally. Most also worried that the relocation would decrease the sizes of their lots and thus impede small-scale agriculture, such as raising free-range animals nearby.

2.4.2.2 Basic Services

After the state had declared V4 as a flood zone in 2017—a step required by Peru’s relocation law—it stopped promised investments in basic services on-site but failed to acquire land after that. As a result, the prolonged entrapment has resulted in decaying infrastructure and increasing vulnerabilities.

Concerning water, the villagers continued to rely on tubed water from surrounding ravines and rivers. Water was always available but in insufficient quality and caused diseases if not treated for consumption. Entrapment worsened the situation, as a village leader explained, since the withdrawal of investments perpetuated unhygienic conditions and forced the poor farmers to rely on catholes:

Our water and sewerage were going to be done here in [village] in 2016 and it has not been done due to relocation…, that is what they took from us. (V4-3)

Conversely, forced immobility did not change people’s access to electricity, light, and transport. The village remained reachable mostly by boat as a nearby track was in a poor state and impassable during the rainy season. People hoped that relocation would finally improve their market access:

Yes, [access] is a bit difficult because the road is lousy again … It complicates, the [selling of] products, more than everything…, it would also help us to get our products out… [S]ometimes in winter we cannot bring [them], the flood interrupts us…. (V4-2)

2.4.2.3 Pleasant Surroundings

The farmers did not notice changes in their surroundings due to the prolonged entrapment. Most continued satisfied with their natural environment and agricultural activities, which they considered as safer, calmer, healthier, as well as more water- and food-secure than city life:

Yes, it is more peaceful than living in the city, it is better here… In the city, you see every day that they kill each other, they disappear, and here – calm. You go to your farm, you are on your farm in the afternoon, you return relaxed to your house, you rest at night, untroubled. (V4-9)

I like the tranquility of the village, that silence at night, the pure air. We can’t have [tap] water but we go to the ravine. On the other hand, in [the district town] there is no water, it was a desperation and it is hotter; not here, it is cool here…. (V4-20)

However, villagers also stated that the beauty of V4 in the dry season was overshadowed by the dangers of the rainy season: “Yes, it is beautiful. What happens is that here when it is summer, everything is beautiful, but when the flow of the river comes, it worries us a lot …” (V4-2).

The opinions of the envisioned new site diverged. Most farmers looked forward to more safety and calmness; they hoped to “make a modern community, more properly ordered, to be able to live a calmer life, we want to improve the quality of life” (V4-2). Only a small number of older residents explained that they would miss living next to the river and related activities, such as fishing.

2.4.2.4 Safety from Hazards

The main goal of the envisioned relocation of V4 was to decrease people’s exposure to annual and exceptional floods. Because their favored site was in an uphill area, sufficiently far away from the riverbed, most farmers expressed hope that a relocation would greatly reduce exposure: “That [site] is higher… The flood does not get there … They told us that it is almost 700 or 800 meters high or something like that…” (V4-2). Only few worried they could still be exposed to floods, stating, “There is also danger, there are ravines that can flood, and there are two ravines over there too” (V4-17).

Still, due to the delayed land acquisition, flood damages have continued to undercut development and the risk of a new major flood has instilled fear. While many still hoped to relocate (see 6.2.4: Outlook on the future), others had resigned due to the constant delays and the recurrent misery:

You are afraid, every year it floods, that is my way of thinking. For me, it is as if I were already used to the losses… [We feel] less safe because any time, it can happen. (V4-20)

2.4.2.5 Security

People reported that the prolonged entrapment has left their security situation unchanged. Security was mainly guaranteed through citizen patrols (rondas) and people felt safe in the village, where they enjoyed “that we are at peace, there is not much corruption, there is no robbery” (V4-9).

2.4.3 Social Relatedness

Social relationships in the small village were positive. Farmers appreciated the existing solidarity mechanisms and mutual support systems, such as food sharing, which allayed flood impacts.

… [A]ll the residents, the neighbors bring what is in the house, banana, rice, beans, it can be a fish, or it can be a portion of meat. All the residents who are typically affected in this village collaborate…, really all the people made an olla commún [common food pot]…. (V4-16)

Farmers also provided labor for communal tasks, such as mutual help in sowing and harvesting. Their entrapment seemed to have left social relationships unchanged or marginally improved, because the Indígenas have had to coordinate and fight together for progress. As a village leaders explained, “There is no divisiveness … of course, we are a united community and that is the objective … It has not changed [after the flood], it continues its course like that” (V4-2). For the relocation process, farmers still used village-level decision-making mechanism and assemblies. They enjoyed “to live well with my family, live well with my neighbors, and not to argue” (V4-5). Most agreed that, “Here, the coexistence is normal, one for another … we support each other at no cost” (V4-9). Only a small number of socially less embedded persons rued a lack of solidarity and support within the community.

2.4.4 SWB Dimensions

2.4.4.1 Emotional Balance and Cognitive Satisfaction

Most villagers continued to experience anxiety, fear, and preoccupation for long after the 2015 flood (see 6.2.4: Health and food security and Safety from hazards). Children suffered in particular: “They are afraid, so when they were going to school it flooded, all the streets were ugly too, the children suffered …” (V4-7). Some families had to transfer their terrified children to live with relatives in safer areas of V4. Farmers also felt sadness and pain because of the losses, noting that their conditions were “difficult, life is very sad when the water enters” (V4-11). A mother reported: “We have suffered lots [sad]… The situation is not easy, it is not easy to live on water, young man, it is too tough” (V4-11).

Simultaneously, the years of waiting to be relocated have frustrated and infuriated people. They felt treated like in “a game” and had gotten “angry” (V4-2) because “there is no support” (V4-5) by officials, whom the villagers accused of indifference, lies, and corruption: “They don’t stop cheating us” (V4-14). The repeated frustrations culminated in an attempt to press the Regional governor to fulfil his promises by refusing to let go state representatives after a meeting. Besides anger, the delays have instilled fatigue, helplessness, and worries. One farmer felt like “going in circles, you are trapped” (V4-3). Another one rued, “When there is a flood, they tell us that relocation is going to happen; when the flood has passed, they have already forgotten again” (V4-10).

The farmers also worried about the phasing out of public investments after the state had declared the village as a high-risk flood zone, while it failed to provide new land for the relocation:

That is what worries, right: when are we going to leave, when does support come, and not to lose state investments because [this village] is not in a suitable place, no. When is it going to see an investment? That’s why we would like to accelerate this process now, to be able to relocate…. (V4-2)

Many dwellers were less satisfied with life in entrapment compared to before the flood because they lacked support from the authorities. Continued economic hardship also increased dissatisfaction, as a mother of six in her mid–60s remarked, “When one works in the fields, everything is arduous…, one makes an effort to work, so we can sustain us” (V4-17). Others explained that satisfaction had remained “the same for the meantime, now we are still at peace” (V4-11); they had adjusted and felt better emotionally over time, either as a psychological survival mechanism or in display of resilience. A few farmers who had been spared the worse flood impacts continued to be satisfied with life.

2.4.4.2 Outlook on the Future

Asked about their views of the future, many farmers were “between fear and hope” (V4-11). Witnessing already preoccupying climatic changes (see section 6.2.1), they anticipated that the impacts would make life worse in the future. Since the villagers had to stay in the exposed zone, their major fear was the imminent flood risk (see 6.2.4: Safety from hazards): “[People] worry about the flood because wintertime is coming and again there will be flooding, they say; psychologically it worries us …” (V4-2). Some resigned due to the repeated suffering and the lack of options for change.

Several farmers also had worries related to deprivation and economic insecurity. Especially older adults were resigned or fatalistic concerning their own development prospects:

I can no longer think about my future because I am already advanced in age. About my future? Not anymore. I only work to support myself, you no longer work to have something, no longer… I don’t think about the good life anymore, we’re old now. (V4-17)

Instead, some hoped that the next generations could improve through hard work and education:

I would like my children to have a good future because there is no future for us, right. Well, we want more for our children; that they also be good professionals, so that they can live from their profession… We are but farmers. (V4-16)

For many farmers, religion provided hope during the difficult prolonged immobility: “Yes, I have faith in God that we can achieve it” (V4-16). Especially people who lacked economic perspectives clung to their faith for hope that god would allow them to progress. A farmer in her mid–40s stated:

Well, my optimism is this: thinking that yes, they will help us to get out of here, so we no longer live here with the floods… I’m hopeful. Maybe later. Or someone to help us, [one has to] leave it in the hands of God no more…. (V4-5)

Despite the hurdles encountered so far, many villagers still hoped that they would be able to relocate out of the flood zone and to safety eventually: “Yes, I don’t lose hope. When there is support, yes, gladly we’ll go and live there” (V4-14). Some were positive that a recent change of representatives at district and Regional levels could catalyze the process. Nevertheless, most doubted that relocation would occur swiftly. Asked if the relocation could still occur, a village leader replied:

Why not [sighs]… Yet it will not be tomorrow, nor the day after, but at some point it will happen, that is our faith, not to lose hope… [I]n these four years that we are doing the process it [has been] difficult, but yes, every project takes a long time, it is not overnight, worse for these types of projects…. (V4-2)

Imagining an eventual relocation, many villagers hoped that it would facilitate a new, future “modern” village with improved livelihoods options and infrastructure shielded from hazards:

Now for safety, we want to go there, also to build our little houses with a view to the future, well, to allow our children that at some point they also enjoy themselves, that is, mostly looking at the living conditions. Well, so that one does not stay at high risk every year, suffering with this flood that we are just overcoming. (V4-2)

Many saw no future without relocation, as the response by another farmer illustrates:

Our life would be a little better over there. We can already imagine that we will no longer suffer from the flood, when we are at the altitude–but here, if we continue here, we will suffer the same. (V4-16)

However, repeated governance failures have also raised doubts how the relocation would affect people. Few had lost hope entirely, but many feared that they would not receive enough support for rebuilding, that the associated costs would be too high, and the new lots too small. Some dreaded more diseases in the new site, and not all were reassured that it would be safe from floods.

3 Discussion

The Selva case study offers new data for understanding the links between climate-related planned relocation, entrapment, and well-being. In this section, I interpret the observed hazard-(im)mobility dynamics and their well-being effects along the four studied axes, situate them in the broader literature, and analyze relevant mechanisms of action as well as structural conditions.^{Footnote 23}

3.1 Hazard-(Im)mobility Links and Pathways

Floods were a main driver of migration in the study sites, as in many rural Amazonian areas (see review in Bergmann et al. 2021a). Only in V4, annual floods have occasionally coerced short-term and short-distance migration of the most exposed households. By contrast, in both V3 and V4, major floods have forced most villagers to flee in at least two instances. Afterwards, place attachment combined with poverty hindered follow-on migration and the majority returned to their homes, which confirms the inverse relationship between vulnerability and migration found in other contexts (Adger et al. 2014; Black et al. 2013; Warner & Afifi 2014), and the role of ties to land in decisions to migrate or stay, especially for Indigenous people (Yates et al. 2021). In both villages, only the second respective disaster triggered the desire to “exit” (leaning on Hirschman 1970), thus stressing the possible effects of cumulative shocks raised in other studies (Blocher et al. 2021b). Risk appraisal, fear and uncertainty, deprivations, and children’s future prospects drove the communities’ eventual decisions to request relocation, similarly as seen in other cases (Seebauer & Winkler 2020b). In response, the state declared both zones as areas of “very high, unmitigable risk” in line with Peruvian legislation on relocation, although the legislation’s exact threshold of what constitute “unmitigable” hazards remains unclear (Venkateswaran et al. 2017). While both communities decided themselves to relocate—often a catalyst for success (Matthews & Potts 2018)—only V3 relocated in 2014, after struggling for 15 years to find land itself, whereas V4 has remained in limbo since 2015. Despite the perennial obstacles, most people in V4 still wished to leave; community decision-making, group dynamics, and social thresholds mattered for their decisions, similar to dynamics observed in other contexts of settlement change or abandonment (McLeman 2011).

For initiating and implementing relocations, the cases stress the critical influence of governance, resource availability, land issues, the influence of private actors, and community action. First, weak governance, especially state failure to acquire land, has delayed (V3) or stalled (V4) relocation, which confirms the critical influence of state institutions on relocation outcomes (Mortreux et al. 2018). Since relocations have complex, cross-cutting governance demands (de Sherbinin et al. 2011), weak structures and institutions can worsen results (Bronen & Chapin 2013; Connell & Coelho 2018), as seen in the cases here and others in the Selva (e.g. Pittaluga 2019). Both V3 and V4 struggled to receive sustained support from Regional authorities for their relocations. This is a common obstacle when relocations address a small and marginalized share of the electorate and states thus perceive a low benefit-cost ratio for action (Hino et al. 2017), especially in highly centralized states (Perry & Lindell 1997) that disregard rural development needs (Arnall 2019). Government inaction in the cases here also seemed driven by a lack of accountability, including inadequate institutional structures, and the lack of pressure to respond to hazards, to establish legitimacy, or to reap adaptation benefits, similar as in other relocations (Mortreux et al. 2018). People’s witnessed lack of possibilities to express their needs and to participate meaningfully in the process is a challenge in many relocations that often relates to power hierarchies (Bertana 2020; Thaler et al. 2020; Wilmsen & Webber 2015).

Second, in both villages, poverty has been a major hurdle to circumvent these governance failures, for example, by purchasing land or migrating individually. The case studies therefore corroborate the inverse correlations between vulnerability and migration suspected in the general literature (e.g. Warner & Afifi 2014). While the state lacked incentives to deliver solutions, V3 and V4 was deficient in proper resources to purchase land on their own, as witnessed in numerous other relocations (Hino et al. 2017). Land has been one of the key obstacles here, as often in relocations in Peru (e.g. Sperling et al. 2008) and worldwide (Piggott-McKellar et al. 2020; UNHCR et al. 2017).

Third, and related, private actors influenced these land issues significantly. In V3, private landowners catalyzed eventual progress by accepting a land swap. However, in V4, landowners increased obstacles to the relocation by allegedly inflating land prices for the most fitting lot to exploit the opportunity for government money. The cases thus stress the influence of “complex networks of agents” in relocations beyond the state, which are often overseen (Rogers & Wilmsen 2020: 265).

Finally, people’s agency and resistance have shaped trajectories, as seen in other cases (McMichael et al. 2019). In V3, mutual support systems, community tasks, and community action were essential to catalyze the execution of the relocation and to avoid some of the severest risks. People became the driving force for relocation through their own efforts to find land. They also staged demonstrations to express disappointment with initially missing infrastructure and services, pointing to the possible influence of resistance on outcomes (McMichael et al. 2019). The case confirms that some communities can be agents driving their own relocations despite government inaction (Iuchi 2014). Even when incentives for concerned actors to implement relocations are low, bottom-up fights and strong community organization may result in reasonable outcomes (Hino et al. 2017). Yet, this is not always the case. The extremely poor farmers in V4 have been unable to secure land on their own when the state failed to deliver. This observation supports de Haas’ (2021) argument that structural constraints can severely restrict agency and thus influence (im)mobilities and well-being. While Indígenas in V4 have also stood united in their fight for change, with increasing frustration, the means have occasionally created frictions, such as refusing to let go state experts after a meeting.

3.2 Well-Being Effects, Mechanisms, and Structural Conditions

The delayed (V3) and the stalled relocation (V4) have heavily affected the rainforest villagers. The state approached both cases “as a mechanical process” with little attention to people’s well-being, a frequent risk in relocations worldwide (Perry & Lindell 1997: 57).

3.2.1 Development from a Secure Base

In both villages, the floods severely damaged livelihoods. Farmers returned to their previous subsistence activities, but recovery was slow and incomplete, partially due to insufficient assistance. Initial health challenges depended on the severity of damages experienced. Severe losses often caused mental health issues, and the damaged subsistence production also created severe, enduring food insecurity. Moreover, the lack of assets, inadequate shelter, contaminated waters, and mosquitos exposed people to new health threats. The results therefore confirm prior findings that rainforest floods can seriously damage infrastructure, shelter, assets, and agriculture (Takasaki et al. 2004), constrain livelihoods for long (Sherman et al. 2015), induce food insecurity (Langill 2018; MIMP & IOM 2015; Sherman et al. 2015), and severely harm mental health (Rojas-Medina et al. 2008).

The floods prompted both communities to request relocation. Yet, people’s well-being declined during the lengthy, fragmented processes that resulted, which stresses the role of relocation duration for well-being (Thaler et al. 2020). Beyond the uncertainty if people would eventually relocate, other mechanisms also created hardship. First, the mired relocations trapped people in sites with recurring, severe floods, and, in the case of V4, also with damages from annual floods. Second, particularly in V4, health service provision worsened for two reasons during forced immobility. At first, the major flood in 2015 damaged on-site health structures, while remoteness and poverty hindered people to travel for aid. Later, declaring V4 as a high-risk flood zone, as required by the relocation law, stopped public investments in the current site, while the state failed to acquire land for a new site and farmers remained exposed to the same flood-related health threats. Being unable to leave the risk zone also caused mental stress for at-risk groups. Third, similar effects and mechanisms apply to education in the trapped village V4. Floods have continued to interrupt schooling and damage buildings while withdrawn investments have further aggravated the situation. Such marginalization through discontinued state investments in public services threatens relocatees in many cases worldwide (Cernea 2004). Overall, the case study substantiates that trapped people are at risk of impoverishment (Ayeb-Karlsson et al. 2018), especially non-resilient groups confronted with cumulative damages (Mallick & Schanze 2020) and health shocks (Brubaker et al. 2011; Schwerdtle et al. 2017). Ensuing downward spirals of poverty might lead to trade-offs with expenses for other essential activities and reduce the eventual ability to relocate, given the costs for rebuilding lives in a new site.

After physical relocation, livelihood restoration is key for success but often difficult to achieve (Brookings et al. 2015; Cernea 2004). While hopes prevailed in V4 that livelihoods would improve after moving to the envisaged new land, Peruvian (Bernales 2019; Desmaison et al. 2018; Estrada et al. 2018; Lavell et al. 2016; Vásquez et al. 2018) and global cases caution about impoverishment risks in relocations (Piggott-McKellar et al. 2020; Wilmsen & Webber 2015); many at best improve infrastructure but threaten other key capitals. The case of V3 provides nuances to this literature. Here, relocation facilitated livelihood continuity while significantly improving the access to the road system and thereby to markets and jobs. The case demonstrates that livelihoods can recover under specific conditions (Ferris & Weerasinghe 2020), especially if people relocate voluntarily (Bazzi et al. 2016) and to a site that offers livelihood potential (which, absent state action over many difficult years, V3 had to obtain itself). V3’s community-wide relocation also appears to have created more positive results than related cases of individual and household migration driven by floods in Peru’s rainforest.^{Footnote 24} Nevertheless, most relocatees have continued in a milder version of their previous poverty trap due to the generally rising costs of living. Health effects have been mixed at best, as seen in other relocations worldwide (Mazhin et al. 2020; Schwerdtle et al. 2020). Poverty and a lack of state support hindered the creation of appropriate health infrastructure after relocation. Conversely, the improved location decreased physical exposure to flood-related health threats and raised access to transportation for health services. Weak governance also contributed to adverse results regarding education. Because the final administrative registration of the relocation was stalled—which hindered public investments— villagers themselves had to shoulder the building of school edifices. The recurrent bureaucratic delays have deteriorated the infrastructure and deprived households of money required for other needs. Therefore, in line with concerns by the IPCC (Adger et al. 2014), despite some gains, truly improving development from a secure base has proved difficult for the relocatees from V3. The main obstacles were preexisting vulnerabilities, inequalities, and other structural factors such as weak governance that created distress conditions for moving and settling.

3.2.2 A Space to Live Better

The floods in V3 and V4 severely damaged houses and infrastructure, as seen in other zones in Peru’s Selva (MIMP & IOM 2015; Sherman et al. 2015). Subsequent entrapment in hazardous zones has led to recurrent loss and damage. For V4, the relocation goal—safety from flood hazards—has not been achieved due to the state’s failure to acquire land. While immobility has not changed people’s views of their surroundings, basic services have worsened. Because the state declared the current village site as a high-risk flood zone, planned investments in water and sewerage were stopped, which raised vulnerabilities and perpetuated unhygienic conditions for the trapped farmers. Such challenged spaces to live during entrapment, for example through service discontinuation (Cernea 2004), are a shared global concern (Ayeb-Karlsson et al. 2018; Foresight 2011; Mallick & Schanze 2020). In the eventual relocation of V3, various mechanisms created mixed outcomes. On the negative side, delays in the relocation process and governance shortcomings slowed down the reconstruction of adequate shelter. Without receiving land titles, the poor farmers could not retrieve social programs to support the costly rebuilding. Only coincidental access to jobs in a private company facilitated the start of reconstruction; some, but not all households succeeded in slowly improving their homes, although with high expenses and sacrifices. Authorities initially failed to install or improve basic services after the relocation, which caused hardship and disappointment. Gradual improvements such as electricity and tubed water required high investments by the farmers themselves. Other promised upgrades, for example of sewerage and sanitation systems, never arrived, and the new, downsized lots made the associated impacts worse. Some dissatisfaction also related to the size of their new, small lots, and the larger distance from natural amenities, but most farmers were pleased with their new surroundings due to similar recreational and aesthetic ecosystem services and the modern village design. On the positive side, two key well-being benefits of the relocation were more proximity to a street and less exposure to hazards. First, the improved access to the road system after relocation has had positive multiplier effects for livelihoods, education, and health. Second, the relocation effectively reduced primary hazard exposure due to the larger distance from the river and the higher elevation, which significantly enhanced well-being. The case thus substantiates claims of prior studies in Peru (Desmaison et al. 2018; Jarman 2020; Lopez 2018) and worldwide that relocations can, under specific circumstances, contribute to DRR/DRM (Ferris & Weerasinghe 2020; Melde et al. 2017). Secondary hazards were moderate and manageable for V3, although they are a recurrent concern in other relocations (Bower & Weerasinghe 2021). Finally, rising physical insecurity was not observed in the two cases, and V3’s security even benefited from the relocation due to the closer proximity to the road system and the better availability of light, contrary to global results (Sow et al. 2016; Webber & Barnett 2010; Yates et al. 2021) and prior analyses in Peru (Bernales 2019; MIMP & IOM 2015). In summary, this study demonstrates that entrapment during relocation threatens people’s space to live better. Eventual relocation under distress conditions can also imperil housing, basic infrastructure, and services adjusted to people’s ways of life, as expected from global studies (Bower & Weerasinghe 2021; Cernea 2004) and those in Peru (e.g. Lopez 2018; Pittaluga 2019). Nevertheless, it may improve other dimensions of a space to live better, especially exposure to hazards.

3.2.3 Social Relatedness

The relocation processes have had mainly positive effects on social relatedness in both villages. After the floods and during entrapment, social cohesion has stayed robust due to ongoing community tasks, mutual support mechanisms to confront damages, and strong traditions that nurtured community relationships. Mutual support often occurs instantly after disasters (Braun & Aßheuer 2011; Drury & Cocking 2007), yet in both V3 and V4, support extended beyond the crisis moment and enhanced social relations. The experienced delays and challenges during entrapment have also increased unity because people have had to come together to coordinate their cause and fight for progress. The main factors that have enhanced V3’s possibilities to maintain positive social ties after its eventual relocation were its moderate size, previous unity, the spatial continuity after moving, and effective self-organization. People’s fight against perennial delays and government shortcomings united them, including through joint rebuilding efforts or demonstrations to express their discontent. In addition, the relocation preserved spatial clusters of families, which enabled them to maintain social structures and relationships. In the new site, the closer spatial setting and better light facilitated more contacts between peers. Thus, this study confirms prior findings from the Pacific that community structure and relocation design influence the prospect of maintaining social relatedness after moving, and that community and social support are key to mitigate challenges or ease adjustment (Yates et al. 2021). Overall, the positive results in this case contradict findings in prior global (Bower & Weerasinghe 2021; Schwerdtle et al. 2020) and Peruvian studies (Desmaison et al. 2018; Lopez 2018; Sperling et al. 2008). The community-wide migration of V3 has also had more positive social effects than observed in other studies on flood-driven, individual and household migration in Peru’s rainforest.^{Footnote 25}

3.2.4 SWB

The cases V4 and V3 (before its eventual relocation) highlight that forced immobility can cause similar SWB losses as those witnessed in forced migration (Bartram 2015; Hendriks 2015). Various mechanisms appear likely. First, in both villages, losses due to major floods (and subsequently annual floods in V4) have led to strong negative emotions and cognitive dissatisfaction. Second, the mired relocations, governance failures, and resultant entrapment have further worsened the SWB of many farmers. Third, trapped people’s SWB was probably also reduced because they could not realize their aspirations and compared their plight with other, better-off villages, as comparison theory would suggest (Haindorfer 2019a; Schyns 2000, 2001). Finally, some trapped people in V4 experienced partial hedonic adaptation to their plight, either in display of resilience or as a survival mechanism. Most of the trapped farmers in V4 saw no future in their current location given repeated floods and poverty. Despite the lack of progress, many retained hope that a relocation could eventually occur and enable a modern, upgraded village shielded from hazards; they believed in a modernization narrative that is known from other relocations (Arnall 2019). While some respondents appeared intrinsically optimistic—and optimism has dispositional elements (Carver & Scheier 2014)—for others, hope was anchored in faith or in external circumstances, such as the change of functionaries in charge of the relocation. This result confirms that hope can have varied internal and external sources (Pleeging et al. 2021b). Imagining an eventual relocation evoked hope for a safer and better future in most respondents; this extends previous results (e.g. Boccagni 2016) by proving that hope can help both migrants and aspiring migrants to cope with hardship. Nevertheless, the constant delays and repeated governance failures also contributed to resignation, uncertainty, distrust, and doubts, which corroborates that a lack of progress and control can drain hope (Edey & Jevne 2003).

The implemented relocation of V3 specifically had time-dependent effects on SWB. At the start, enduring trauma, the straining, lengthy transition to the new site, and continued governance failures severely worsened farmers’ emotional balance and cognitive satisfaction. Conversely, lasting scarring (Jovanović 2019; Mousteri et al. 2018) did not occur absent major health shocks or financial losses after relocation. Various villagers have experienced gradual hedonic adaptation. Contradicting findings on internal, individual or household migration in other poor countries (e.g. Chen et al. 2019; Mulcahy & Kollamparambil 2016), various relocatees even improved their SWB. Gains seemed to arise from two effects that respondents had hoped for in the new site, namely better development prospects and reduced hazard exposure. This confirms that the possibility to fulfill aspirations affects migrants’ SWB (e.g. Chen et al. 2019). By contrast, relative deprivation, often a salient mechanism in internal migration (e.g. Knight & Gunatilaka 2018), was not central for V3 since the entire village moved to an unpopulated area, which prevented social comparisons with stayers or locals. Sentiments to the future were mostly optimistic but mixed with strong concerns and anxieties, similar as for relocatees in other areas (Yates et al. 2021). Various mechanisms expected from the review in chapter 4 applied: most relocatees were hopeful for progress related to work, education, as well as the anticipated solution to their land titling issues and the linked access to social programs and better infrastructure. Such hope might motivate further action that could eventually increase well-being (Pleeging et al. 2021a). Even so, economic insecurity affected many farmers, some of whom were anxious regarding the future. Still others held more positive outlooks despite similar issues thanks to personal coping mechanisms, such as faith or humor (two aspects that remain understudied in migration studies, as the review in chapter 4 shows). Finally, in both villages, many thought only of the future for their children, a known externalization pattern for many migrants (Boccagni 2016).

4 Summary and Induction of Propositions

In this section, I summarize key well-being effects and mechanisms in the delayed, but completed voluntary relocation of V3 and the prolonged, forced immobility in V4. Building on the analysis of these cases, I then induce propositions on broader well-being dynamics in climate (im)mobilities.

Figure 6.10 portrays the identified well-being effects as well as relevant structural conditions and mechanisms of action. Severe floods in 1999 and 2015 raised aspirations to migrate voluntarily in V3 and V4, respectively. Yet, due to limited migration capabilities and lacking state support, farmers in V3 only relocated after 15 years, whereas those in V4 have remained in entrapment until today. These (im)mobilities occurred under distress because structural opportunities were only low to average, whereas high structural constraints emerged from severe climate risks and deficient DRR/DRM; poverty and inequality; dependency on ecosystem services with few diversification options; spatial insularity; weak governance; limited political participation; and the influence of non-state actors. The Indígenas’ prolonged entrapment in V4 has had significant impacts on their well-being. Because the state designated their village as a high-risk flood zone but failed to purchase a promised new plot for the relocation, farmers did not only still suffer from continued flooding, but also lost planned infrastructure investments. Their vulnerabilities have increased on a trajectory of “chronic distress” (Seebauer & Winkler 2020a: 2227). With worsening need fulfillment, most respondents lost SWB (deprivation).^{Footnote 26} Many also expressed negative outlooks on the future (enforced fear) given economic insecurity and years of bad governance, which have raised doubt that the relocation will be completed. By contrast, V3 faced major hurdles in the protracted relocation but eventually moved. Although challenges persisted after relocation, most farmers perceived the eventual transfer as successful in material dimensions owing to the decreased exposure to hazards as well as the improved access to jobs and markets. Most villagers followed a trajectory of “delayed recovery” (Seebauer & Winkler 2020a: 2227) and reported positive feelings, cognitive satisfaction (higher well-being, despite mixed need fulfillment), and optimistic views of the future (enfolded hope). The light gray boxes in the figure below synthesize the well-being mechanisms identified in these cases that may be relevant in other contexts as well.

Based on these empirical findings, more general propositions on the well-being impacts of climate (im)mobilities can be induced along the four studied axes.

(1)
First, the results suggest that when poor agricultural communities with limited migration capabilities aspire to move away from severe climate hazards—but also wish to preserve their socio-spatial unit and ties to land or livelihoods—weak governance and deficient institutions can protract requested planned relocation over several taxing years. Access to decision makers, bureaucratic processes, and sustained funding are key for effective implementation, yet difficult to achieve for the many remote, poor, and politically disenfranchised smallholders in centralized states with low interest in rural communities. Resultant entrapment in high-risk zones and relocation procedures detached from rural needs, such as service discontinuation, likely threaten people’s development from a secure base and a space to live better, and eventually reduce their adaptive capacities and migration capabilities. In such distress conditions, non-state actors can become pivotal players either moderating or multiplying state failures and well-being threats.
(2)
Second, in poorer countries with deficient institutions, weak governance is likely to interact with land tenure issues to compound relocation obstacles. Ensuing entrapment and adverse well-being effects can become prolonged; they may end only if aspiring relocatees find ways to resist or circumvent governance failures and resolve land acquisition. If eventual relocation is achieved, even under distress conditions, it may have narrow positive effects for adaptive capacities over the long term. Yet, such limited gains only materialize if the new site significantly reduces hazard exposure while benefitting livelihoods, provided that the relocation does not create deleterious harm in other key dimensions of development from a secure base and a space to live better.
(3)
Third, the results demonstrate that despite severe disaster losses and government failures that trap aspiring relocatees, small, tight-knit communities with deeply rooted traditions, support mechanisms, and effective organizational structures may be able to maintain positive social relatedness. During entrapment, in-group unity and cohesion can even increase in reaction to seriously constraining structural conditions and may ultimately catalyze action or resistance needed to mitigate the effects of state neglect. If relocation is achieved, even if in fragmented trajectories and distress conditions of moving, communities with the characteristics described above may be able to conserve positive social relatedness provided that the new spatial design is sensitive to social needs and the relocation does not create other existential threats to well-being.
(4)
Finally, the cases suggest that for marginalized communities lacking on-site adaptation options or state support to leave at-risk areas, climate change can create persistent stressors and severe OWB losses, which, in turn, also harm SWB. Because even high-quality social networks cannot offset such severe harm, it is likely that people will experience a subjective present state of deprivation. In addition, enforced fear of the future is to be expected for many trapped people worldwide who have experienced climate-related loss and damage, governments failing to fulfill their protection obligations, and a resulting lack of control or progress. Rising despair in such situations can further strain other well-being elements over time. Simultaneously, trapped people may cultivate precarious hope in case they have personal coping mechanisms, expect external support, hope to move to a better life elsewhere, or believe in opportunities for next generations. Contrariwise, voluntarily relocating away from risk zones may raise SWB depending on the duration, strains, and outcomes of the transfer. If relocation produces large gains in key OWB elements that outweigh likely challenges in other elements over time, it can lead to subjectively higher (but often still mixed) well-being with enfolded hope for the future. Such SWB, in turn, can create beneficial ripple effects on people’s OWB, and may thus contribute to a virtuous cycle.

Notes

1.
This section partially draws on my previous work published in Bergmann et al. (2021a).
2.
For privacy protection, I neither mention the names of the specific sites of investigation nor of interviewees. V3 stands for interviews from the completed relocation and V4 for interviews from the stalled relocation case (forced immobility).
3.
The exact number of inhabitants is known but not mentioned here for privacy protection.
4.
The term Omagua is derived from the name of an Indigenous people in the Selva.
5.
I would like to thank my colleague Stephanie Gleixner, who kindly produced these graphs. Because the PISCO dataset does not perform well in the rainforest, she also used weather station data for graphs in this chapter.
6.
SSP 3 is combined with a forcing level of 7 W/m², leading to above 4 °C mean global temperature increase by 2100.
7.
In the past, intense floods have frequently been linked to La Niña, see Marengo & Espinoza (2016).
8.
Drought risk in San Martín is low but could increase, see SINAGERD et al. (2014). Between 1981 and 2018, ten episodes of meteorological droughts occurred in Peru, see SENAMHI (2015, 2019). Droughts in the rainforest reduce flow discharges, increase ecosystem vulnerability, impair farming, health, and food security, raise forest fire risk, and affect hydropower generation as well as fluvial transportation networks, see Hofmeijer et al. (2013); Langill (2018).
9.
More granular data is unavailable. In the district where the indígenas live, there are 47 other villages and four urban areas. In the district where the mestizo community is sited, there are 34 other villages and four urban areas.
10.
To react to drought, 58% of the respondents in one study did nothing, while 36% sowed again, see List (2016). Some Indigenous groups use dispersion into the forest and gathering of wild foods to adapt to drought, see Zavaleta et al. (2018). A small number of studies describes strategies to deal with river-related hazards, see List (2016); Manzi (2005).
11.
Flood waters can improve access to and opportunities for fishing, forest product extraction, hunting, and floodplain farming, see List (2016). Although all forms of floods can have positive side-effects, one large survey found that their negative impacts on health, safety, and food provision tended to outweigh positive impacts, see Langill (2018).
12.
These flows are reviewed in detail in my previous work published in Bergmann et al. (2021a).
13.
Other hazards can also result in migration, yet fewer studies explore these links, see review in Bergmann et al. (2021a).
14.
Original Spanish names: Estrategia Regional Frente al Cambio Climático Cusco (Regional Strategy Against Climate Change Cusco, 2012); Estrategia Regional de Cambio Climático Junín (Regional Climate Change Strategy Junín, 2014).
15.
Ley Nº29869 (Law, 2012); Ley Nº30645 (2017, Modification); Decreto Supremo N°115–2013-PCM (Regulation).
16.
According to a village-level expert, until about 2000, people in the area also produced coca due to a lack of alternatives. The government eradicated this production and made agreements with farmers to substitute it with cacao.
17.
Aspirations to change settlements due to the floods had existed for a long time. After major floods in 1963 (V3) and 1977 (V4), respectively, younger villagers had already argued in favor of relocation, but met resistance by older residents who favored the proximity to the river and the continuity of their habits.
18.
While not the focus here, villagers said that changing rainfalls, humidity, rising heat, and greater intensity or new types of pests and plagues have also damaged crops, and more heat has restricted the possibility to perform outdoor labor.
19.
A marginal number of villagers started new activities, such as driving small cabs, which improved household income.
20.
Hotter weather has raised further health challenges, for example when performing open-air labor (see section 6.2.1).
21.
Moreover, farmers felt safer from wild animals, yet the proximity to car traffic meant more risk for their own animals.
22.
In times without floods, residents assumed their food security was better than that of urban dwellers, since they had their own food production: “In the city, if it is not for money, you don’t eat; but here, we produce and eat” (V4-19).
23.
This chapter is partially based on my previous work published in Bergmann (2021).
24.
Studies stress that such migration can lead to precarious work and raise food insecurity. It may improve educational chances, but not for children compelled to move for work. See List (2016); Sherman et al. (2015); Sherman et al. (2016).
25.
Existing studies in the rainforest stress that individual or household migration can pressure social relations through separation, abandonment of older adults, erosion of local traditional knowledge, and the lack of possibilities for migrants and stayers to provide for each other, see List (2016); Sherman et al. (2015); Sherman et al. (2016).
26.
For terminology, see section 2.3. Deprivation refers to adverse objective conditions accompanied by low cognitive satisfaction and negative emotional balance.

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Bergmann, J. (2024). Selva: Flood-Driven Entrapment and Planned Relocation in Peru’s Rainforest. In: At Risk of Deprivation. Studien zur Migrations- und Integrationspolitik. Springer VS, Wiesbaden. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-658-42298-1_6

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DOI: https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-658-42298-1_6
Published: 20 October 2023
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