Of Nature’s Wrath, Human Folly, Redemption and Gratitude
The wind was moderate and the rain was light that Friday evening of September 25, 2009, only a few hours before the dreaded Typhoon Ondoy (International designation: Typhoon Ketsana) ravaged Metro Manila.
For most of us, its would-be victims and survivors, the rain was just one of nature’s cyclical routine that would pass us by every once in a while. What we never foresaw, however, was that Typhoon Ondoy would take all the typhoon categories in just a day–from low pressure area to a tropical depression, from a tropical depression to a tropical storm, and finally, to a severe tropical storm–as if reaping trophies for a well-prepared and well-rehearsed game plan.
That night we were busy preparing for a breakfast party for the morning of September 26th. Everything was set in order: tables and chairs, plates, cups, mugs, spoons, forks, table knives and all that stuff. We finished every little detail of party preparations around one o-clock in the morning, and had to lay us down to sleep as fast as our tired bodies could warrant.
We woke up early that morning of Saturday and the weather would have been all right were it not for some light to moderate rains, but the relentlessness of the rains was disturbing. Visitors however started coming and we ushered them to our humble house. We had a good breakfast of meat loaf, bread, coffee, and lots of stories and greetings. Many of those who came brought us some gifts to celebrate life and friendship and the good old days. “Happy Birthday!”. they all greeted me.
The last of our visitors left us around half past ten in the morning, and as we accompanied them to the gate, we were met by furious floodwaters coming in from all directions like crazy! Things happened so fast! We had no more time to clean up the tables or set aside some remaining food. Forget about the breakfast party! Forget about the birthday! We had to switch off the main circuit breaker, take what we could take, and bravely wade through floodwaters for some hundred meters to survive, yes, just to survive!
Hours of uncertainty followed. Our house could no longer be locked, as floodwaters came from the opposite direction. We had to save ourselves before anything, and we had to go some hundred meters uphill. From there we watched helplessly, awed at how nature could turn against us and toward us–with scenes unseen before–heavy rains pummeling every nook and cranny, producing end-of-the-world scenarios, with vehicles sailing like boats, garbage of all kinds sweeping away houses and fences with a vengeance, water rising some ten feet high or more from an overflowing creek, and countless men, women and children climbing walls to save none but their own dear lives!
Such was nature’s wrath! Such was the result of human folly, too–with garbage upon garbage down the city, now floating in floodwaters to show proof to human negligence and apathy toward the environment!
Oh, yes, lots of prayers were said amidst equally lots of regrets, losses and helplessness. Government was nowhere represented, sorry to say this, but even government was shocked! Political power was so effortlessly swept away by Ondoy’s wrath, along with electrical power. All business ground to a halt. What mattered then was survival, people’s survival, both theirs and ours.
We had a hard time identifying areas where we could do relief operations. People in the metro were getting impatient and restless inside evacuation centers. Reports had it that those who brought food far too little for too many evacuees were castigated, their vehicles stoned and turned upside down. As if this were not enough, in a little less than a week after Typhoon Ondoy, came Typhoon Pepeng (international codename: Parma), entering the Philippine area of responsibility on September 30. Redemption was getting more and more elusive at every sunset.
The best and the worst of the Filipino came to the fore. The best showed itself in the spirit of volunteerism, the worst, in opportunism and aggression. What most everyone forgot in Metro Manila was that there were other places as devastated as theirs. They, too, were as helpless as they were unreachable. Roads remained closed and inaccessible and bridges gave way to floodwaters. Neighboring cities turned into veritable islands.
Reeling from Typhoon Ondoy’s fury, we needed quite a long time to rebuild our lives, to get back to the normal grid. Thanks to the indomitable spirit of the Filipino, the task of redemption began victims helping victims, survivors helping survivors! It took us two or three weeks to galvanize efforts and raise funds for both victims and survivors, by then the latter were more and more desperate and emotionally charged. We started as a limited circle of friends trying to plan our next move. Then the new version of the biblical multiplication of loaves happened.
To our surprise, the story of redemption started to unfold right before our eyes. Help came from as near as a dentist in a village just across our convent, and from as far as New Zealand, thanks to the efforts of Filipino priest abroad, Fr. Demetrio Peñascoza, and his parishioners. Donations, both in cash and in kind, started pouring in like the typhoon too, and so we decided to call the relief operation a because we wanted to tell the people that we too were victims and survivors of the typhoon, but we could not let things pass without doing anything for other victims and survivors who needed much hope in the midst of utter uncertainty. We wanted to give them the idea that ours was a journey of solidarity. The theme that undergirded all our efforts was sharing Christ, rebuilding lives. As Missionaries of the Beatitudes or Ezekielians, we introduced St. Ezekiel Moreno to the people of Urdaneta, Pangasinan in a healing Mass. After Mass there was lunch for a little more than a thousand beneficiaries and distribution of relief goods which included rice, canned goods, oil, sugar, coffee, blanket, pillow case, and towel for a thousand families.
All in all, the relief operation lasted about three hours with a Mass and healing rites followed by lunch and distribution of relief goods. It was even more pleasing to the heart to see those countless grateful faces hugging their new gifts, with the hope that those humble gifts could make their lives a little easier to bear.
Redemption took place every step of the way as we heeded the call and task of sharing Christ and rebuilding lives. As we drove back home, it dawned on me that the relief operation evangelized us, too, for it taught us the meaning of gratitude and humility. Both victims and survivors asked for help and were grateful. But, after all, we walked that beautiful path, too we also asked for those donations from friends and are eternally grateful to them. After the dark story of nature’s wrath and human folly, came the light of redemption and gratitude. Blessed are the meek and humble, for they will remember the gifts and will remain forever grateful.
