**The BBC’s Nick Davis retraces his steps in Haiti’s capital Port-au-Prince, a month after he arrived in the aftermath of the earthquake, and finds a stunned nation beginning to stagger to its feet.**Thirty-one days ago I arrived in Haiti, just over 24 hours after the quake.
Night started to fall as we came in to land, the only light that could be seen was from the runway, and the rest of Port-au-Prince was plunged into darkness.
The airport seemed only slightly damaged; there was a large crack running down a wall in the arrival hall.
And the lack of authority, with no customs or immigration officers in sight, was the first indication of what was in store.
Humvees roll
As we walked out of the building it was chaos, with just two security guards trying to hold back 40 or 50 people desperate to get in, so they could get out.
Haiti ‘will not die’ - president
Little did I realise the significant role Toussaint L’Ouverture International Airport would play over the next few weeks as the relief operation picked up pace.
It quickly became a bottleneck as aid began pouring in from across the globe, its modest facilities stretched to the limit as flights went from less than 30 a day to more than 160.
Its running was handed over to US air traffic controllers to speed up the operation.
A month on, the number of flights has dropped, while the sound of military and civilian transport planes taking off and landing has faded.
There are specialised cranes at the port bringing in more and more containers as work continues on the damaged pier.
Back at the airport, security couldn’t be more different; the US Army is firmly in control here.
Soldiers in Humvees roll out the main gate past those on guard duty, checking everyone going in and out.
The pallets of aid that were stacking up in the early days of the disaster are gone.
Military supplies have taken their place as warehouses around the capital now hold the relief for the nation.
US Army 1st Lt John Ferrell said: "Our capabilities were very limited at first, a lot of things weren’t here.
"They were on a ship getting in, and this is a very small airport and not much could come in.
“But once we got established and set up, we’ve been able to push out the humanitarian aid.”
A member of the 3rd Expeditionary Sustainment Command, his job is to help co-ordinate the soldiers on the ground in Haiti.
On the night of the 13th, I spent most of the evening driving around the city, and the streets were full of people.
They seemed dazed, confused and bewildered by what had happened, the bodies of the dead were all around them, covered and draped as a mark of respect.
Many were buried in mass graves, a contradiction in this highly religious country where death and the rituals that surround it are a key part of the culture.
Commerce resuscitates
The road to Petionville, a residential area that overlooks Port-au-Prince, was full of rubble when I first arrived in the city.
The routes to the district and most of Port-au-Prince are now busy with activity.
Commerce was the first thing to restart after the quake.
On nearly every junction there are men and women selling anything that can help them make a living from fruit and vegetables to clothes and household products.
In some areas people are still living by the side of the road, wooden poles, plastic sheeting or tarpaulin providing protection from the sun and rain.
Others are in family-sized tents that aren’t always big enough to house them, but they are better off than many.
As her children look on, Elvero Colstalt says: "We don’t have enough space, not enough at all.
"We don’t have enough places because there are 11 of us and it’s shared.
“It’s hot during the day, so we have to stay outside and find some shade.”
That first night saw me cut off from the rest of world, with no mobile phone, and with even the most hi-tech equipment, such as satellite phones not working properly.
The outside world seemed to no longer exist.
‘Needs still high’
Sleeping outdoors as the tremors continued into the night, the sense of being alone without any help is something that we no longer feel with modern telecommunications.
Two days later, I was able to receive texts for the first time.
People would come up to me in the street and ask if I could get a message to family members abroad.
Now the networks are back up and running, the sellers of phone cards at street corners hold what look like portable desk phones with a built-in antennae.
The relief effort is much more co-ordinated.
The first few days saw hardly any movement as the aid agencies worked out their plans of action.
Their attempts at trying to mobilise was hampered by the devastation in the city, with the government overwhelmed by the scale of the disaster, and the UN having lost so many people at its headquarters.
I travelled to Haiti with Darren Hanniffy, from the aid group Goal.
I caught up with him to find out how the past month had been.
"We’re satisfied with how things have gone: we’ve been able to work alongside the World Food Programme in 16 distribution centres, working with the communities and putting in sanitation and other vital services.
“Our next job is in the surrounding towns close to the epicentre, where needs are still high.”
As I look at the city it’s clear that much needs to, and will have to be, done.
The relief is patchy with some areas getting much more help than others and some hardly getting any assistance in the past month at all.
But with billions of dollars pledged to help the country, its people hope they will have something better than they did before the disaster.