When I saw the water in the garage, I started helping bring things up. By 12nn my sister was watching the water climb up the steps, into the living room. My dog kept barking, as if to warn us of the rising waters.
When it reached the living room, we were far too tired to bring things up to the rooms. When I felt the rushing water on my feet, and when I saw it start licking my books on the floor, a mixture of panic and a sense of defeat took over me. It was no use; we had to leave while we still could. Outside, Ruffy was quiet. I ran and told my sister and our house help to grab a bag and stuff a change of clothing inside. I grabbed my backpack, freshly soiled from a week in Iloilo, put a couple of shirts and underwear inside, plus a pack of biscuits, readying myself for a day (or two) of aimless wandering.
On our way out, I saw Ruffy’s feet submerged in floodwater. No wonder he stopped barking; he must have felt defeated, too. I quickly unleashed him and, despite my sister’s attempts at discouraging me from bringing him, grabbed hold of a book bag and tried stuffing him in. I must have looked pretty funny; the opening of the bag was way too small, and I begged my sister to help stuff him in. she told me to leave him as “dogs can swim,” but I insisted on his, well, naivete, and saw my old backpack. I grabbed it, unzipped it fully, and crammed Ruffy inside until only his head was sticking out.
We had to climb over the neighbour’s wall to get out of their gate, where the water was only chest-high. In front of our house where it is lower, the water was probably neck-high, and we didn’t want to open the gates, as water would come rushing in. We only remembered to close all the doors in the house, so that the water won’t come rushing in, and so our things would remain inside.
A neighbor at the corner of our street, where there was no longer any water, took us in; they fed us, asked us to change, and gave us a room of our own. I can still remember the panic I felt when the water came inside their house; wondering what if the water reached the highest point (third floor). I lay down on the mat, cringing every time it rained again. I amused myself by taking out the wet bills I had from my jeans pocket, laying them on the mat to dry, watching the candle flicker; its smoke licking the wall.
Around 1am we heard so many dogs barking; we knew the water had subsided, and the dogs, left by their owners, were probably perched on the roofs or whatever high place they could find. They could probably see land, and were wondering where everyone went. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that sound. It was so quiet, except for the howling of dogs.
5am we slowly crept out of the room, went down and saw the men outside, looking at the street. We said our thank you and goodbyes; I had Ruffy’s makeshift leash—an old piece of rope asked from the bakeshop, and we walked with him leading us back to the house.
Inside our house everything was in disarray. All our furniture, appliances were on top of each other. I could imagine the house when it was flooded; in my mind it looked like the wreckage of a ship underwater.
What hurt the most was seeing my books scattered everywhere; most of them were torn, all of them dripping wet with floodwater. I took several pictures of them, trying to make light of the situation by laughing at them. Over two thousand books gone in an instant.
It will take us a while to restore things back to the way they were; I can only hope for some semblance of order, soon, in order for me to reconstruct my life once more. Everything right now is in disarray; I forget where I put what little things I’ve managed to save; all my clothes are dirty and rumpled, and I keep shuffling from one place to the next.
It’s quite interesting how I’ve realized that sometimes, the more you lose, the more you gain back. I’ve lost almost everything that matters to me, but I have met so many beautiful people who have given me what no material object can ever equate to. All the kind words, the help and the genuine concern I’ve seen in people is also something which I will take with me.
I keep asking myself why. Why did this happen, what did we do to deserve this, why did I not think of grabbing even just my favourite books, finding a safe and high place for them, why I had no presence of mind. But I know this is not fair; you can only save so much in a few minutes, and at that time I only felt panic and defeat.
What really dismays me is the real cause of the problem. We lost our home to the storm. No, make that we lost our home due to people's lack of coordination. This is the time when I feel greatly sorry to be living in a place like the Philippines.
Let's get the facts straight: the storm, though strong enough, is not responsible for the loss of hundreds of lives and possessions. It was actually because of the fact that several stupid people had the bright idea to open up the 4 dams and release water. No warning, no nothing; they just let the water out and sat watching people struggle and die. They started letting water out at 1.20am, and we started panicking only at 12nn. You do the math.
9 hours was the travel time of the water from the dams. What were the local officials, the USecs and the ASecs, doing? Where was the NDCC (Nat'l Disaster Coordinating Council)? Whose bright idea was it to open the dams without telling the others that 'hey, we're opening the dam here, can you wait a bit before you open another?' How difficult is it to spread the word, tell people that okay, this is not rain water (because people DO know how to measure, nevermind how backward we seem to be, the number of hours it takes for the flood to inch up), this is rushing, flowing dam water so please try to save your important things and run to the highest ground?
This is the one time that I feel so sorry for every person living in the Philippines. So many lives were lost, and so carelessly. If we only had some sort of warning, if people only knew that this was not storm they were going against, they might have left, knowing that it was futile to try to stay and save what could be saved.
What I find bewildering is that given all this trouble, one thing is evident: yes, we can change, and yes, we have the capability to affect change. Maybe this will help show the Filipinos that in spite of everything, we do have what it takes to turn a new leaf, to start again.
The day after the storm, when we were walking back to our house at 5am I saw the street slick with mud, the people outside all dazed from lack of sleep and shock. I told myself, "This is Day One."
And it was. It still is actually, but I'm slowly counting the days. I hope everyone does the same, for a new country.
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