HOUSTON: Eight days after taking refuge from mega-storm Harvey, Katrina Nelson was treated to something completely unexpected at the relief shelter in downtown Houston: a massage.
"Is it a stressful time? Of course it is," the 37-year-old mother and account manager told AFP on Monday after her 15-minute back, neck and shoulder rub by a volunteer professional masseuse in a busy hall of the cavernous George R. Brown Convention Center.
Did it help? "Totally."
As nerves began fraying among evacuees in their second week of displacement following one of the worst storms on record in Texas, the basic act of lying face down and putting one's aching muscles in the hands of a caring human being lifted their spirits.
"Something as simple as a massage, it goes a long ways," said Nelson, who her Houston home with her children amid relentless rain and rising floodwaters.
"You go through the rest of your day with a smile on your face."
Smiles were rare among fellow evacuees in Houston. Residents here and across much of coastal Texas and Louisiana are struggling through the horrors and heartbreak of a sprawling natural disaster and its aftermath.
Relief workers and volunteers appeared acutely aware of the strain. Shelter organizers guided evacuees towards several providers of aid, including lawyers offering free legal advice for storm-hit renters anxious over how to deal with landlords.
Growing challenges
The water may have mostly receded in America's fourth largest city, and the long road to recovery has begun for some. But many face daunting immediate challenges.
Evacuees sifted through donated clothing, stood in line for food, answered questions by Federal Emergency Management Administration officials, and filled out applications for telephones, housing and other support.
One man vented about being unable to get back to his home city of Galveston.
"People are broken. People have almost died inside, they're very distressed," said Christa Martinez, a pastor from Georgia who came to Texas with a church friend to offer support and problem-solving, such as helping evacuees obtain replacement medications.
"They don't know which way to turn. They want to know what to do next."
The downtown shelter, where President Donald Trump hugged evacuees on Saturday, is temporary home to about 1,400 people still overnighting there.
That is down dramatically from the 10,400 people who spend the night early last week.
But while thousands have left the convention center, either to stay with friends or relatives or to begin the cleanup process back home, so many were still unable to return to their houses.
Some 33,000 storm victims in total were sheltered Sunday night in Texas and Louisiana, according to the Red Cross. And while the number has dropped, the needs are staggering.
"It's important to remember that while the shelter numbers are starting to go down -- that's the emergency, immediate need -- now we begin the recovery phase where we're able to work with folks to see what they need," said Donna Morrissey, a spokesperson for the American Red Cross.
As evacuees made their way through the shelter, acappella groups sang uplifting songs, religious figures offered comfort, and people like Milca Mar try to find temporary housing for those in need.
"Some people... lost everything, they need a place to stay," she said, in between welcoming storm victims to register for no-deposit, no-application housing in her company's Palm Beach Apartments.
"I go and I cry at night at home," she said, recalling the "very sad" first days of evacuees at the shelter.
One of the masseuses, Amanda Romero, 57, said she provided 14 massages Sunday, and was prepared to do more on Monday, which is Labor Day in the United States.
"A lot of people, they still needed this kind of help," she said. "To relax and feel better, so much better."