Hi! I'm back from another blogging hiatus. It's almost the last week
of the month and if you click on November on the right margin of this blog,
you'd see that this is just my third post for the month. No, it was not a case
of the proverbial writer's block. I just couldn't bring myself to sit and write,
to share the bliss in my life the last couple of weeks. It didn't feel right to
do so. Actually, until now it just feels off to blog about anything not
relevant to the horrific aftermath of super typhoon Yolanda (international
name: Haiyan). I've been intending for days now to put down in writing my own
thoughts about it, but I haven't gathered enough guts, fearing my total lack of
first-hand experience in what has happened would have me blabbering for naught.
I've no family among the millions affected. The nearest connection I'd say I
have is having a close friend whose mother resides in one of the towns of
Eastern Samar.
As luck would have it, I couldn't recall having been directly
affected by a typhoon. I grew up in Manila. When Ondoy inundated it, I was
conveniently away. So, I feel I am not in any way capable of offering my
opinion on the issues surrounding the relief operations that are now, as many
say, underway but hardly felt by the victims across the Visayas.
I did ride on the social media trending ST Yolanda. I would share on
Facebook news or blog links, but I tended to share only the ones angling more
on the positive side, and avoided posting criticisms about how the government
has prepared for and responded to Yolanda's strength and the devastation it
left. But I know I would have felt differently, maligned the government’s
efforts had I a relative among the victims who've gone for days cold and
hungry, and desperate for a sign of help, or worse, had I lost a loved one or
even just a friend to the typhoon. I would have thrown out vindictive comments
out of frustration over the government’s handling of relief operations.
Had I been in the middle of the aftermath, a witness to uncollected
cadavers strewn along the streets, to the almost apocalyptic scenes as was the
CNN veteran reporter Anderson Cooper, I would have a better sense or grasp of
the situation as it were. But sitting in the comforts of my home, watching the stream
of the first graphic photos and videos that came out, most of them two days
into the aftermath, I was witnessing it from afar, disconnected from the
reality. Yes, of course, the images were so heart-rending that like you, I
cried watching the news.
CNN almost became a local channel with a number of reporters
reporting live from Leyte, Cebu and Manila. When local channels moved on with
their local programs days after the height of media coverage, CNN remained
steadfast in flashing updates and reporting on the situation in the Philippines.
In fact, on that Friday when Yolanda made its first landfall, I was tuned in more
to CNN as they were giving more frequent updates, and highlighting the
typhoon’s record-breaking strength and speed as it made its first landfall. Their
report was scary. Local channels on the morning of that day featured interviews
of some local residents who said that they were used to typhoons and would
evacuate only when they see the need to do so. Clearly, many who were living
along Yolanda’s predicted path did not understand the weather forecast of
possible storm surge reaching up to 5 meters high. No one thought of the
possibility of Yolanda wiping out Tacloban City and other towns in Leyte and
Samar, along with the small islands that were right smack along Yolanda’s path.
Despite the painful scenes and heart-breaking stories, somehow, I
would find myself (unusually) tuned in to the TV and radio (while in the car),
wanting to hear updates, to feel one with the nation during these most
challenging times. In my heart, there was a yearning to help. While my family
did help in small ways, what help we gave feels so inadequate. In my diminished
capacity now as a full-time homemaker, I wish could do more.
The continuous coverage about Yolanda in a way sensitizes us to the
gravity of the conditions of our fellow Filipinos that Yolanda left without
houses and livelihood, and in sorrow over the loss of loved ones - family,
friends, and neighbors. While we feel involved in the first days or weeks after the
typhoon, we would be inclined to disassociate ourselves, to continue on with
our lives. But I pray that we would keep the victims in our thoughts and
prayers everyday until Leyte and Samar, and the rest of the severely affected
provinces have been restored to normalcy.
This article about the typhoon that hit Leyte, Samar, Panay Island,
Cebu, and Mindoro way back in 1897 had striking similarities in terms of its
path, the storm surge it caused, and the devastation it left. It inspires hope
and belief that if the communities then were able to overcome the tragedy and
rise from the ruins, so can and so will the communities now. Tacloban City and
Ormoc City will rise to be better than they were, more resilient and better
prepared. I would want to believe that God would give them time to rebuild, and
that He would not let a typhoon of such force happen in the next 100 years, not
again over the Philippines’ side of the earth. The Filipinos have been fully
awakened to nature’s wrath, but have a long way to go towards disaster
preparation, or in the words of the late, beloved Sec. Jesse Robredo,
“disaster-proofing.”
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