Myanmar’s reclusive government has opened up slightly to the world in the past week, allowing U.N. Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon to meet with the country’s ruling general and inviting 50 countries for a donors conference to raise money for victims of the May 2-3 storm that killed 78,000.

But survivors in the clobbered Irrawaddy delta say the junta and its soldiers are as iron-fisted as ever, making some victims return to their flooded, collapsed homes and forcing others to work. Even some Myanmar volunteers donating food and supplies to survivors are being stopped, and the government has started impounding cars.

“Where my house used to be is still filled with water up to my waist,” said Aye Shwe, who was ordered by soldiers to leave the hut. “How can I build a new house there?”

In the nearby town of Bogalay, about 120 survivors were crammed into the Sankyaung monastery, filled with the sound of rattling coughs and wailing children.

They heat up food delivered by donors, mostly meals of rice and vegetables, about twice a day. But abbot Kawvida said no aid has been provided by the government.

Those stuck outside aren’t as lucky. Bodies line the monastery walkway lying atop tarps and rattan mats. Plastic sheets strung from the roof provide limited shelter from the daily rains, but some able-bodied survivors are being forced to leave for work.

“Some of the survivors were sent to Ma-ubin last week to build roads now that reconstruction has started,” said the monk, adding he has heard they are being paid about 1,000 kyats (US$1) a day. “They have told me that they are being exploited by some generals.”

Ma-ubin is a delta town northeast of Bogalay, which also was slammed by Cyclone Nargis. Some 1.5 million people remain homeless from the storm, facing hunger and disease. The government has blocked most foreign aid workers from accessing the delta, but the country’s ruling general last week promised to allow in outside help.

Much of the relief effort has instead been carried out by ordinary Myanmar volunteers and the local staff of aid agencies, packing their vehicles with food, water and supplies. They hand out rations every day to hungry survivors begging along roads going into the delta, but several donors have reported being harassed by police or having their vehicles impounded.

“We didn’t drop food on the road, and we didn’t violate any traffic regulations,” said Nyi Nyi Zaw who was stopped on his way back from dropping supplies at a delta town. “I cannot understand why we were herded into a compound and held there for several hours. This is absurd and very unpleasant.”

Some have reported having their driving license and car registration taken by authorities and being told they will be charged with a traffic violation. In some cases, worried volunteers have abandoned plans to deliver their aid.

That means people like 93-year-old Khin Mya, whose only form of shelter is a flowered umbrella and a plastic bag, may have one less meal.

“I get very worried every evening because I have to find a place to sleep — maybe under a tree, or if I can share a hut with someone,” she said. “I must come to the road to receive food from donors or else I will starve.”