It is in times of great disasters and loss that I find myself proud to be Filipino. Great winds blew, a months worth of rainfall poured in 9 hours and 400,000 Filipinos displaced, homeless, hungry and desperate. Right here and now, where I come from is a land of heroes—in their little ways and the big difference they’ve made and continue to make. It’s whether heroism is just contagious or simply running in our veins.
The government, the people aren’t always pleasant subjects. We are not flawless—people here do take advantage, draw thick lines between rich and poor, politicize and are nasty in many ways.
The great Manila flood showed a side of us that are shut from when the land is dry. Heroes, philanthropists turned up as quick as the flash flood, people saving lives of neighbors unknown, mortal enemies, aiding friends and forgetting for a moment of their own comfort and safety.
I have long abandoned watching local news, but on the day of the heaven’s wrath poured and the safety of my sister and her son was placed in question by the rapid rise of raging flood waters, I thought I have to know what’s happening around me.
That weekend was the most tiring of all the weekends I ever had. Forget my all nighters with booze and stuff and riding home at 8am and hitting the bed at 9, my neglected efforts to finish presentations till the sun is up, my extended hours working at home and self deprivation. At that moment, none of these can take the cake.
Saturday mornings are my grand time to sleep after a Friday nightout. I woke up to the sound of my message tone. One was a near insensitive text from a friend and the other is a distress message from my sister seeking help from the flood. I was dumbfounded. I sent a reply asking where she was and how my nephew Zach was. She called a few minutes after and asked who I was. It turns out, she wasn’t using her phone and texted random numbers in her stored inbox.
I checked back on her first message and saw that it was received at passed 8am, it was already 11am on my clock. They have traveled out of their village and escaped a roof high flood and are in a chapel in Montalban, the highest point they can reach at that time. Getting there was a struggle; she, her partner and his 78 year old aunt and 1 year old Zach braved raging water currents to cross over to a safer place. They almost lost Zach after a rescuer lost grip of him while hanging by a rope. I can only imagine the fear my sister is feeling at the onset. She doesn’t know how to swim and has no skill of survival in the area of catastrophe; worst of all, a child is in her care.
dela Costa, Montalban during the height of the storm
This instance on the other hand is not my finest moment, I’m cold and shaking and fighting paranoia. I think for a moment there, I lost the capacity to act on it instantaneously if not for a message from Diane asking if there’s power at my area. I reckoned Diane used to work with ABSCBN and has kept contact with the network. I asked her to help in sending out rescue to Montalban to which she texted Val Cuenca. The TV is tuned on Wowowee and Pokwang announced that help is needed in dela Costa, Montalban.
With the quest to seek more information and contacts I can use, I went online on facebook and posted a distress status. Numbers of the NDCC and Red Cross hotlines were posted in the replies. I spent the next hours getting through the lines and sending the numbers to my brother and sister so they too can try to connect.
Meanwhile, my brother vincent and his family were also under flood water, though more manageable and less dangerous. There were also reports that Provident Village in Marikina where I lived at with my cousin Ivy for a year before moving to my apartment in Makati last year is badly flooded. I couldn’t reach Ivy’s phone so I got in touch with her sister who at that time have not reached her and could only hope she and the baby are safe.
Throughout the day, I’m in constant contact with my sister via sms and calls, she only knew how to type the words “ help” “I’m scared” “I don’t wanna die” in all her messages. I guess when people are in dire need and overshadowed by fear, you cant reason with them. Of course, she has no idea that everywhere else east of manila is under water and though where they are is a less than perfect situation, worst things are happening elsewhere.
It was afternoon when she told me they have to move on up, the chapel they sought refuge in is already surrounded by rising waters. They again swam to a three-storey building under construction along with the folks from the chapel. Night fell and darkness covered the land, rains kept falling and I’m home watching it fall, praying for it to stop, questioning why. I spent the day walking around my room, I don’t think I even sat at length.
At 11pm, communication went off, I couldn’t reach my sister and my brother anymore, once again, im fighting paranoia and reasoning with myself that the last place my sis said she was is high enough and the flood where my brother is manageable. The news says otherwise so I kept calling anyway.
My senses were awakened by a phone call, I must have fallen asleep waiting for substantial information. The call was from an unknown number, I knew it was an international call. I picked up and was again dumbfounded, my cousin Rica is looking for her mom. It was about 5am and I had a little trouble processing who Rica’s mom is, and who among the 2 Ricas is on the phone. But then again, she asked if I have been in contact with Ivy. Boom! Tita Minnie it seems is in town and she’s in Provident Village. I resorted to calling Ivy, she picked up which means she’s safe, but she’s clueless about where tita Minnie is at that moment. I tried to dial some numbers where she might be, but to no avail.
I dialed my sister’s number, it’s still out. Then she called and said that they are already in an evacuation center in Marikina and will soon head to her partner’s sister’s house in Antipolo. It was the only time I was able to breathe and then broke into tears.
It was a stressful weekend, only because I can only do so much and really had done nothing but worry.
Tita Minnie and Ronnie were soon found and are safe, my brother’s phone was discharged but otherwise safe.
All the material possessions they lost in the flood amounts to nothing. All that matters now is they are spared from fatality of force majeure and is gifted with strength to live on through and learnings to live by.
If it were not for this horrible experience, i would have been the same old me who dances when it rains and care less about the victims. Having a family member survive such tragedy willed me to do the least someone can do, i have not done much. Ondoy was no ordinary storm, it wasn’t even supposed to be a strong one. He came to awaken us all. This is a one-of-a-kind tropical calamity that spared no one. there’s hardly anyone who didn’t know someone greatly affected by it.
packing relief goods for flood victims in montalban and marikina
The massive destruction left by Ondoy, Pepeng and Santi left room for all to do little deeds to help out which I will.
Derailed Thoughts 