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Saturday, November 16, 2013

Month 7 and the beast that was Yolanda

You picked a strange year to be born Malaya.

We survived Yolanda. After all, we were in Cebu City. Had we been in Tacloban, I don't know. I really don't know.

We were informed days before. We panic bought, and then we comfort ate. We evacuated to Tito Mark's house in the mountains yet again. We had the means to be on higher ground. We did not know what a storm surge meant, but we lived beside a river that frequently overflows after a few hours of rain.

I was a bag of nerves. I've never experienced a superstorm in my life. And I spent elementary and highschool in Region 8 which is frequently ravaged by storms. The Cebuanos around me were passive and cheerful. The day before the storm, we watched Napoles make a fool out of everyone who thought she'd finally dish the dirt on the Pork Barrel scam. No luck there baby-o. 

And then the day came. Tito Mark moved furniture and stuff around while I spoke of gloom and doom. Our housemates listened to me like I was some sort of loony. The shelves were stocked with a week's worth of food. We made sure we had gas, candles and batteries. And then the storm arrived at around 10:30. Electricity was out way before that. We watched inside the comfort of Tito Mark's house. Daddy Chris and Uncle Kit woke up to see the worst of it. Meanwhile, my little man's tooth broke out.

The winds howled and bamboos bent and finally broke. It didn't get worse than that. In metro Cebu, we heard trees had toppled over, a couple of roofs had flown off. In my mind I thought: that couldn't have been more than signal number 2.

Near midnight, electricity was back. I was feeling foolish for being so grim. Cebuano's urbanites were exhaling all over facebook. "Mao ra to?"

And then information started trickling in.

We're so lucky. We're lucky the feeble cement structures we imagine are fortresses did not even have to be tested. Because while we sat here watching her skirt flip and flourish, Yolanda's parade was up north.

Horror stories started flooding into my facebook feed. Stories about death and famine, about how towns and cities were washed away like brittle shells, bodies of the dead littering the street like they were nothing. The horror was not in the zombie apocalypse scenarios people were describing. The horror was that it was happening to our friends and family. Duterte saw Tacloban and said it was as if God forgot about the earth.

My son, there's one thing I want you to understand. The earth is a piece of space rock that just happens to have all the conditions required to sustain life. We are dust. And yet we treat the space rock that we're lucky enough to be on like we could live without it. We are the only inhabitants that bite the hand that feed it. We litter the seas with plastic, we feed the atmosphere with all sorts of chemicals, and we think nothing of it. It's still just a theory that global warming caused this superstorm and I'm speaking liberally here, but it is we who have forgotten the earth. As I type, thousands of relief goods are being packed in plastic bags.

Lola Dinah Palacio died. You probably won't even remember nor will it matter to you, but she met and held you, and for a while you shared laughter and she found joy in your existence. And while we mourn her loss, everyone else in the family survived. We can build houses again but we can't bring back the dead. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you and your Daddy. I think I'd go mad. So many people lost so much. We are so lucky my love. I hope you don't mind that I gave some of your old clothes up for charity.

Lola Nanay arrived from Ormoc this morning and told me about how it is in Biliran. We aren't as hard hit as the rest of the region, but the effect is enormous. Fuel is getting scarce down there. People are desperate for transportation because communication lines have been cut. Since food and supplies are dependent on this transportation, store owners are forced to raise their prices. Because banks and remittance centers are offline, people can't get money out.

I hope that by the time you even comprehend anything I said in the previous paragraph, you'll think it's ridiculous because the Philippines of your time is no longer as dependent on finite resources like fuel as we currently are. I hope by your time, we're better prepared for power outages, food shortage, typhoons earthquakes and other natural calamities. I hope by your day, we've become truly self sufficient and our pride is well placed. I hope by your day, less lives are lost to a lack of foresight.

To those who truly want to help, I'm a part of an initiative of Biliranon volunteers who're allergic to political stickers and labels. We're shipping relief goods to the recently homeless in our island but figured this is not enough. They need housing, therapy, etc etc. If you can help with community rehabilitation and know anything about green energy, permaculture, sustainable but affordable construction, etc etc; pop me an email at mutangpusa@gmail.com and we'll talk.


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MILESTONES:

Malaya is now a fireball. He's crawling and eating everything, with requests for second and third helpings. He eats everything, but isn't too hot about oatmeal yet. He is now actively grabbing things he's not supposed to, like wires. Makes me realize how hard babyproofing is against a curious child.

He is more interested in our cellphones than in his own toys. He hasn't grown tired of peekaboo yet, but you have to hide or he won't give you the time of day. He gives high fives and "Close-opens" his fist on command when he feels like it. With his tooth coming out, he is only a little cranky, but isn't bawling like an orphan boy yet. Will keep you guys posted.

Malaya has a yaya now too. Yes, yes. We finally caved in. Since I actually have time to sit and write now, I'll put a post up about it soon.