Tuesday, September 29, 2009
{ 6:24 PM }
I so did not sign up for this.As everyone knows by now, a massive typhoon called Ondoy (internationally known as Ketsana) has plagued the Philippines, leaving massive (and when I say massive, I am not exaggerating) floods, month's worth of rainfall in 6 hours, and 240 people killed.
Normally, when a typhoon hits the country, floods are to be expected. I feel a surge of pity for the victims of typhoons, but as selfish as it may sound, it is only until there. I am 15 after all...what do I know about charity?
But this time, the story I will tell is one of the thousands' of people's own experiences about the storm, the first in Philippine history. While it may not seem as bad compared to others who lost their belongings and families, and pray tell, that they may finally seek solace and comfort in their time of loss...it has opened my eyes to a lot of things.
Joy, Jonathan and I arrived in Manila on a rainy Friday night, but we weren't exactly expecting the worst. The next day I was scheduled to attend the Assumption open house, probably see Mark, and go home. That Friday night, I got to see Mark for our monthsary even if only for a few hours, and stayed at my cousin's place in Quezon City. It had been a really crappy night, because of some miscommunication and such, but we made it through.
The next day...agh. I woke up early, hoping that I would make it to the AC open house, which probably turned out to be one of my worst decisions ever. I was alone, I didn't fit in, and the continuous rain wasn't doing any good. Mark had also been on a bad mood that morning, and I wasn't able to talk to him other than a few minutes because my battery was running low, and I was trying to save it for fear that it would run dead later that day.
It ran dead. Shit shit shit. Pakapalan na ng mukha. I asked my assigned AC ate (whose name skips me, sorry) if I could text through her phone, and other AC people there. Ugh, I felt so pathetic. I expected not to have much fun--I was after all alone, and I really didn't have anyone to talk to, but as the day dragged on, and people started seeing other people, I felt "ugh, great. I don't have a phone, and no one would talk to me." I looked like this anti-social freak stuck in a swirl of girly girls and peppiness.
The orientation went through, as the exams. We were supposed to have this lunch and fashion show thing/concert, but while we were taking the exams--mind you, the rain was getting to us, but we really didn't think of it much, they cancelled the afternoon events because apparently, the rain was getting worse, and AC was flooding--first time in AC history. Also, the power went out, and I'm assuming they did that for safety. Like I said, I still didn't know that something was up, and all I thought was "great. I'm stuck in a school with people I don't know, my battery is dead, and I can't go home. fuck my life." Again, I texted through some girl's number asking someone to fetch me, and all I had to do was go out and wait patiently.
As I exited the exam room, the rain was turning for the worse, but somehow they managed to continue the program albeit informal in the hallway. As they were doing a roll call of several Manila schools "Let's hear it for AC high! Poveda! St. Paul Pasig!" etc., I felt even more like a stupid outcast. I bought a cappuccino and tried going back to the chapel, where Kuya Rudy had dropped me off, but as I got there there were benches stuck together to form a makeshift bridge from the waters, which was ankle deep. I crossed it, but as I got to the end the water got even deeper. I attempted to roll my jeans, and get back--good thing the chapel wasn't flooded.
I waited patiently for Kuya Rudy to fetch me--give or take 30 minutes, alone, quiet. The worst day of my life, I thought. After the car finally came, I thought it was over.
It wasn't. Sure it was raining, but as I got out it got even worse. As we went north the flood got even deeper, especially in Shaw. People were seriously standing on the sidewalks, like waiting for some miracle to happen, all wet--and when I say wet, I mean basang sisiw wet. I started to get an inkling that it was going to get worse. We went around in circles, and Kuya Rudy decided to park the car in Shang, and leave it there overnight despite paying 345 pesos. Better 300 bucks gone than the car.
We decided to go home through MRT. Saktong sakto--there were 2 umbrellas in the car, and Kuya Rudy and I got one each. The waters were already gushing through the stairs, and I had to be really careful not to trip. After all once I reached the MRT, it couldn't be that bad, could it?
Wrong. As we got there--hundreds of people lined up, all eager to get their tickets and get home at once. Ang galing nga ni Kuya Rudy eh, sumingit singit lang kami. It probably took us 20 minutes to get our ticket and wait for the train.
A bunch of people were already lined up, waiting for the train in that station. 15 minutes after, the train came. And the sight was not what I expected.
I have seen full trains before, especially when I was in Manila and naaabutan ko ang rush hour, but this was 5times worse than MRT at its worst rush hour. There was hardly any inch for people to move about, and some were already pressed on the doors. To say that they were really packed in like sardines would be an understatement. People larger behind me started pushing through, and I was scared to get in, but Kuya Rudy pushed me in. But no matter how hard we tried, I couldn't get in, and the stubborn guys hardly even had any space inside the train anymore. People were cursing, because those who wanted to get out of that station couldn't, because the passengers wouldn't budge and give way. The train was already buzzing, probably because it was already overloaded, and there was simply no way I could squeeze in, however small my frame was. People were already panicking, and I was scared that through the mob, I might fall on the rails. We missed the trip and ended up waiting for the next train.
The situation didn't get any better. The second train was still packed, yet somehow Kuya Rudy and I managed to squeeze in. I could hardly move--I was almost pressed to the doors, and I was even scared that once the doors opened, I would fall because knowing how people kept on pushing, wala nang pakialamanan, basta't makauwi. Good thing the door on my side didn't open. I wanted to cry that time, because I felt like we were really hanging on a thread here--would I really get home? A bunch of guys were pressed on to me which made me even want to cry more--for some reason I felt violated. Yet at the same time I couldn't get mad and do anything because I know that they weren't doing it on purpose, there was really hardly any space to move in, and we all just wanted to get home safely.
Since we were getting off on Quezon Ave., it took us probably 5 stations before we got off. I felt like I was going to faint throughout the entire trip--I couldn't breathe anymore due to lack of air, like I said we were all squeezed in tightly, and imagine the people that got in as we stopped in the next stations. The train wasn't doing any good either--it got slower and slower, and at one point even stopped at the middle of the tracks.
During the trip too, what I saw made me realize what we were truly experiencing. As we looked out the window, floods were up to my chest, and cars were already stranded and wouldn't work anymore on the roads because of the high flood. A bus--imagine that, a bus was even partially submerged in water. Imagine the passengers stuck in there.
As we got to the terminal in Quezon Avenue, I suddenly thought of what I was wearing--a long spaghetti strap blouse, skinny jeans, and slippery slippers. I was so not prepared for this, and apparently this was the wrong time to leave my jacket back in Bataan. But still, I had to brave the current, even if I was already freezing. The waters were already raging through the steps, and as I looked out the situation even got me more depressed. The murky waters were still high, probably about waist level, and cars did not occupy the flyovers, but people--people walking through the storm, braving with their umbrellas and jackets. Nagtirikan na talaga ang mga kotse. As I was processing what was happening to us and to Manila, I felt as if the flooded streets, heavy rains and the people-filled flyovers--basically the whole picture taunting me, asking me, "O ano, gusto mo pa magMaynila?"
As we got down, nakapagMcDo pa kami...funny right? At times like those makakain ka pa. We haven't even since we left Makati, which was around 1:30, and we got to Quezon Ave. at around 4something. But I guess, no use na rin if McDo was going to shut down and send the employees home, either way they were stranded. After eating, we were supposed to walk back home which was a few blocks away...but there was no use. Some really wet people were already walking through the floods, which went up to their chests, but we weren't taking that risk. Instead, we saw a Meralco truck headed for the same way we were, and we hitched. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Assuming na mataas ang makina ng truck na yun kaya hindi agad titirik sa height ng flood.
The driver dropped us by the corner, which was already near where I was staying. As we got on foot, the heavy rains and winds got even worse, and with what I was wearing, I had to withstand the extreme cold and fight them with my umbrella, which was already threatening to wear down completely....bumaliktad na nga nang todo eh. Finally, we reached the house....and I just wanted to break down and cry, but I didn't have the strength to. During the summer, I stayed in Katipunan for 2 uninterrupted weeks and not once did I go home...but one day of trauma and disaster was enough to make me completely homesick.
Gladly, I got home safe. Unfortunately, we lost power, which didn't come back until Monday, and so I had no news whatsoever of what was happening in Manila. I didn't know that in Marikina, lagpas tao na ang baha, and people were sent to their roofs, let alone how Mark was doing. I had no means of contact with him--I had no phone, I tried texting him through other numbers but apparently he didn't have enough load to text other networks.
I know my experience isn't probably as tragic as other people's like I said, but this is not the time for drama. This is the time for action. The way I experienced the flood...the way we connected with total strangers in the 15-minute MRT ride in the time of trouble was more than enough to move me and say that the Philippines needs help. It was not our fault that it rained so hard...but we are responsible for the aggravation of the situation. Metro Manila has the lowest forest density...imagine all the trees that could have absorbed the flood.
To everyone that lost their possessions and loved ones, I am truly sorry for your pain. I am convinced to donate some of my things to help these people. Some people can forget about what happened last weekend, but these people, it would probably take a lifetime for them to truly recover what they have lost.
I wish I had pictures to suffice for the things I saw and experienced--but then again, I don't think it's quite necessary. Later in the news, I saw how houses had been flooded up to the ceiling of the first floor, and how people had sacrificed their lives to save other people...hopefully such a thing would never happen again.
I so did not sign up for this.