Ondoy

It is Sunday, 27th of September 2009 and this is not an ordinary weekend. It is my last rest day and It was supposed to be chores day instead I was just sitting at the couch staring into nothingness. God, there is no coffee in the cupboard, no decent food in the ref and no emergency canned goods lying around. The mess of the house and the mountain of laundry are irritating. It was doomsday. It was doomsday and I only have potato chips to survive.

I feel angry and upset and so I watched five lousy movies and get eight hours of sleep. I still feel livid and distress by the time I woke up and I end up sitting at the couch and staring into nothingness again. I cannot make myself do the laundry or sweep the floor for a start or maybe even make an effort of opening the bag of chips. There is something I need to do or feel or something I am waiting to happen. And it does. My cellphone was ringing and as I looked who the caller is, it was my dad. I’m battling with myself if I’m going to answer or not. Why is he calling me? (Answer it.) Did I do something wrong? (Don’t answer it.) Is he asking me to join the family day? (Answer it.) Will he be making arrangements for December to babysit my teenage sister? (Don’t answer it.) God, the flood! Is my family okay?! And so I answered it. It took me awhile to answer it but I did.

Me: Hello?
Pops: Are you okay?
Me: Yeah, Okay lang kayo dyan?
Pops: Oo. Where are you?
Me: Bahay. Baha. Two people are dead.
Pops: Somebody texted Jay, nawawala ka daw.
Me: I’m okay.
Pops: Baha pa ba?
Me: I don’t know. I don’t wanna go out.
Pops: San ka ba malapit sa Araneta? Funeraria Paz or Arlinton?
Me: Arlington. Baha pa rin dyan?
Pops: Hindi. Just take care, okay?
Me: I will. Kayo din, bye.
Pops: Bye.

And the phone call made me cry. It’s a five-minute good cry. I’m 29, independent crying lesbian. The cry clears my head and bravely, I booted the laptop, inserted my USB and opened up the Word because now I am ready to take a step inside the time machine and go back to yesterday as I write what happened 26th of September 2009.

The team building was held at my officemate’s covered rooftop. The party’s a blast as we eat and drink our P4,000.00 Sodexo (Team funds in a form of GC provided by the company) away. By 1pm, the party was ended and we were alarmed to see the flood downstairs. Babes, the guy who owned the place told us it was the first time that the flood reached their driveway. Now this is serious. From Instrucion in Espana, I dipped my newest chucks to a knee-high flood. My teammates and I are cruising Manila with umbrellas that are pretty useless as we made an effort crossing the vehicle-less main road with strong waves of flood crushing you back and forth. It was sort of fun since it gives the true meaning of “team building”. We departed at Rotonda. The team left as a team because they have one destination and that is the LRT. I was left alone and my goal is to reach Araneta Ave. and that’s where the horror starts. I folded the useless umbrella and put it inside my already wet bag. I was bathing in the rain, no typhoon rain, with my glasses on. It was a long walk. It’s been an hour before I reached the part where the flood is in my shoulders. It was scary and I sat on the jeepney’s bumper together with other stranded people. The bus was stuck in the middle of the flood, alone and we can see it from afar. It didn’t make it. The flood was deeper on that side and it was half the bus already. That same street was deeper because it already reached the Suzuki’s E. Rodriguez’s branch service bay ceiling. God it reached the ceiling! Flood and fire. People’s houses were shattered and some caught fire. Imagine houses under the flood like Atlantis? A child was drowned and seeing this before your eyes was horrible. Too horrible that it made me stare and gives me nightmares afterwards. I found my way home through begging Philippine Charity Sweepstakes to let me through their gate so I can pass thru the other gate where I lived. I was lucky, seeing Bayani St. was somehow at peace. I reached the third floor panting, packed with heavy clothes, colds, virus and in a disoriented situation. It was not long when I think about the disaster in Istanbul or the red dust in Australia. Now, “Ondoy” hitting the Philippines. How come this is not predicted earlier? Does our government have to do with this?

So there, it took me a five-minute good cry to collect my thoughts again and retell my story to someone who cares. I feel lost for more than 24 hours and I haven’t received any caring words from my family except my bestfriend Ivory up until now. I don’t blame them, probably they where in a state of feeling disoriented too and my girlfriend’s flight was cancelled twice already and was stucked in Bicol and knowing how she will go straight to her family’s house to attend a birthday party after Ondoy’s aftermath didn’t make me feel good at all. Who wouldn’t feel sh*tty?