Sendong

It's weird to be writing again after the tragedy that was Typhoon Sendong. My Auntie Lilit and my cousin Alex died in the flash flood; they were two of the thousands of lives taken away by the typhoon. And now I don't really know how to proceed.

Maybe here's how.

December 17 
I found out about the typhoon through Facebook, of all things. I called up my mom, and even though it was about 5 AM, she picked up immediately. She told me the sad news about Auntie Lilit and Alex, that they weren't able to escape from their home before the flood waters reached the ceiling.

I tried to not think about the news during NSTP, because we were throwing a Christmas party for the Bagong Silang kids. With our freshmen successors in tow.

Then on the jeep going back to Ateneo, I just kind of cracked.

I spent the rest of the day crying into Rap's sleeve. He had made plans with his friends but cancelled them to be with me, and I'm really glad that he did. I don't know what I would have done if I had had to spend that day by myself.

December 18
Finally it was time for my flight home. I had mixed emotions about going back to Cagayan de Oro. A big part of me wanted to stay in Manila, where I wouldn't have to face all the grief, the sadness, and just the whole deadness of the place. More than seven hundred people had been found dead, two of those were my relatives, and thousands more lost their homes (still more relatives and friends). Hundreds were missing. But I also wanted very desperately to be with my family again, to kiss them all and tell them I love them face to face.

The hours leading up to my flight was a whole tumble of weird events. Firstly, I left my cellphone in a taxi. Then my flight got delayed for an hour and thirty minutes. I had to contact my parents through Facebook to tell them all of this.


Then it was time to board the plane. I wondered if all the other passengers there with me had heard the news about the typhoon. How many of them were going home to a wrecked house? How many were just visiting for the holidays? How many had a funeral to attend?

When the plane landed, I saw my family for the first time in three months. They were all there. Mom, Dad, Cait, and Jigs, and I breathed the deepest sigh of relief I have ever breathed. Finally we were all together.

The following days
involved frequent vists to Auntie Lilit and Alex's wake, dreams of them and their final wishes, and the presence of family and friends. It was even slightly comforting, being surrounded by people who shared your pain.

. . .

There's so much I want to say now that I cannot eloquently express. In the days after Sendong, you could see destruction everywhere. There are thousands of pictures of that up on the Internet. I'm sure a couple have landed on your News Feed, so I'm not going to elaborate.

But something that you don't see online is the weird sense of community in CDO. The jeeps are full of strangers are talking to each other. All over the city you hear questions being asked about each others' families, you see the solemn nods of respect to the departed, you feel the wonder people have over survivor stories. If there's any good thing that came out of Sendong, it would be that it has brought the city closer.

The amount of support there is for relief operations is an affirmation that the spirit of volunteerism is alive and well. Even my blockmates in Manila, who are miles away from the destruction, volunteered with packing and donating in AdMU. And when you meet a friend in CDO, the next question you ask after "Is your family okay?" is "Where do you volunteer?"

. . .

Running water was scarce. To get water for bathing or for laundry or for washing the dishes, one had to bring containers over to refilling stations. It wasn't such a problem I guess, because there were several scattered throughout the city. But personally, I just hated to see my dad doing all this work for us.

In the middle of the night (when the lines weren't as long), he'd go over to a water station and then return home to unload all those heavy containers, up to the second floor of our house. I desperately wanted to help, but my dad wouldn't let me lift a finger. I have the feeling that if only I were the eldest son instead of the eldest daughter, I would've saved him from a lot of back pain.

If only. I think that phrase set the whole tone of our holidays. If only I'd gotten there to save them. If only they had stayed with us that night. If only they hadn't gone back to save that one person.

Christmas 

didn't come to CDO. I spent most of it at the wake, with my family. It was still nice being with them. Christmas is wherever the family is. 

However, I couldn't help but feel jealous seeing my friends in Manila so happy over the holidays. I felt like the only one who could completely understand what I was going through was my blockmate and dear friend Mike, who was also in a lot of pain. We spent so many conversations checking up on each others' families. We would talk about everything we were feeling, and somehow talking about it with someone who went through something similar makes it seem less painful. 

Mike is from Iligan. I think they might have it worse than CDO, because relief goods are harder to transport to there. Anyway, if you're reading this Mike, thank you so much for being there. If you need to talk some more, I'll always be around. 

New Year's Eve

My family broke our tradition of spending New Year's at my Sa-E Po's house. We instead went over to Lolo and Lola's, where we felt our company was needed more. There were nicely framed pictures of Auntie Lilit and of Alex. It was the place Auntie Lilit grew up in, and I felt like it was where her presence could be felt the most. 

At 12, we all went out into the street to watch fireworks. There weren't as much as before, but they were just as beautiful. 

After that

In the aftermath of Sendong are homeless, incomplete families, missing people, disease, and garbage. Tons and tons of mud-covered garbage. I wish I were there to help clean up.

Now

It's weird being in Manila. Aside from the occasional nice friend who asks about CDO or my family, it's almost like the event never happened. Days go by and life progresses, I guess. 

Well, things are slightly different. You see little coin banks for Sendong victims in a 7-11. You see posters about events for the benefit of those affected. And when I see a couple of coins in that bank, or some people reading those posters, I'm reminded that I'm not alone in trying to recover from the disaster. I think of my family and friends and I'm reminded that I was never alone to begin with.