The Great Flood

2009 has not been very kind to my family and I. It's one tragedy after the other.

I can't sleep. We're safe and dry at our old house in Cubao - finally able to stretch my legs on a makeshift bed on the floor of the livingroom with my kuya and his eldest Marcus, but I couldn't sleep. I just have to write about this; the past few days have been nothing but horrible - if only displaced by our worried laughter by our very Filipino attitude of poking fun at the tragedy that swept through our neighborhood.

Saturday, September 26

It all started like any other storm - I was chatting with friends and wandering online, proclaiming how I love the rain. I do, honestly, and was enjoying the warmth of our house, taking some photos and posting them online.

My cat Tequila with her still-unnamed kitten, while the flood hasn't risen yet.

The water was somewhat rising outside, which wasn't that out of the ordinary. But when it started to rise and enter the garage and the dining area, we started feeling quite worried. Even posted this over at facebook - where alot of my friends were already experiencing the same.

Kuya in our garage; me in our dining area Saturday morning.

Tita Espie, my aunt in Project 4, called us to say that their house was quickly being flooded. Kuya suggested that we should pick them up and have them stay in our house, but ended up not being able to do so because of the water levels quickly rising. Our neighbor in front of our house asked us to move our car to their garage, because theirs were a bit higher than ours, so my brother and my dad moved the car there (and the van to the vacant lot beside their house) and elevated them some more with jacks, so that the water won't reach the engines.

We were still not panicking, although it was clear that the house was starting to get worried. The water was quickly rising. I went inside my parents' room, which is on the first floor, to use the bathroom - but when I opened the door I saw that the floor was wet, and the bathroom was already somewhat flooded deep. We started to panic. We started moving our stuff to the livingroom, which is around 4 steps higher than the dining area. In an hour or so, the water inside our home had risen close to our knees. We were praying that the water wouldn't continue to rise - we switched the circuit breakers off and had a 3PM lunch in knee-deep water, praying that the water would stop rising, but it didn't.

By around 5PM, we were at the mercy of the water, which had risen to my waist. Madness ensued.

Everyone in the house was scampering to bring stuff up to the livingroom and our rooms at the second floor. The water was slowly reaching the elevated livingroom too, and though we wanted to bring more stuff up there was only so much room on the second floor. The tall fridge was in danger of toppling over, so my uncle and I had to wrestle with it as it floated about in our house. This time the water was high, all the bugs and cockroaches fleeing away from the flood (and crawling all over me and my uncle) as he was holding the huge appliance steady while I was tying a rope around it and securing it to the staircase banister. It was nothing like I ever experienced before. Hauling stuff up while wading in deep water inside our home.

When the waters had risen high we had nothing left to do but watch the waters swallow our first floor.

The storm was raging outside, wailing like a banshee. In the frenzy of things we worried about our neighbors who didn't have a second floor. We opened the doors to them - four families from our neighbors fled from their bungalow houses to seek refuge in our second floor. People were crying and everyone was scared shitless. Our neighbors who were around 80 years old didn't want to leave their houses, but their kids (who were already crying and frantic) and my uncle persuaded them - they would've died if they didn't.

When everyone was in our house, my brother and our neighbor's fathers (Kuya Alfie and Kuya Fidel) was frantic and paranoid for their kids' lives. They inflated a pool toy raft which they thought of using to bring their wife and kids to the school at the end of our street. I ended up arguing with my brother because they weren't even good swimmers, we had nothing to move us through the water, and the current was deadly - risk wasn't an option, I thought. But in my mind I was scared numb. What if the water didn't stop rising? We had no way out.

As the water was rising, my uncle dove into the water to get the hammer from the garage. They hammered the grills of my window open, allowing us to escape to the roof of our neighbor's house. From there, we watched as the flood water rose to insane levels, the cars disappearing under the surface.

I tried calling and messaging people to send us rescue, thinking that the water will reach the second floor soon. Our moms and the others started praying the rosaries we distributed (thank God I have a bunch in my room) as I tried calling and messaging people for help. The networks work conky but was able to get assurance that the Disaster Coordinating Council was working on something, thanks to my officemates Migs and Wilson. Not only did we fear the flood water rising, but we were afraid for the drinking water that was quickly running out. We were only able to save around 2 litres of drinking water, some bread and rice and some viands from our lunch. It wasn't enough.

The night passed, the rain quieted down, but everyone was restless, waiting for rescue, praying that the water will be merciful to us. We had nothing left to do but watch the water swallow everything from our roof, our cars and everything slowly disappearing with the brown murky water.

Sunday, September 27

The next day, the sun was still shy behind thick clouds. The water had somewhat lowered around half a foot. The topline of the flood still evident on the tree trunks.

From our roof - this was when the flood had begun subsiding. The water was around 8 feet high in its deepest

My brother and neighbor Kuya Alfie waded through the water and walked to Cainta to buy some food and water, waiting with a long queue of others who were as hungry, as parched and as scared as us.

Kuya and I were worrying about our cousin Ate Abu who lives farther in our village where we heard the waters rose to 12 feet. We wanted to go to her to bring their family some food and water, but the water was too difficult to wade through, as our neighbors mentioned.

Around past noontime the water had lowered to our waist. Slowly we were seeing the damage the flood left in its wake.

Around noontime. That's my mom with the pink towel, surveying the damage.

It was horrible. We weren't able to save much from our first floor (where most of our stuff are). Perhaps it was panic, fear and everything that comes with the deluge. Around this time, Ate Abu managed to walk through the flood and come to us - scared and hungry, she shared that her husband was still abroad and it was only her, together with her four children and 2 maids, who were in the house. We gave her food and water and told her that we will be going out to buy some more, and that she needn't worry anymore.

What was left of our dining area.

The master's bedroom. Even the giant cupboards we were hoping to stay stable were toppled over.

The food and water Kuya Peewee and Kuya Alfie bought was quickly being consumed, sharing it with everyone, so Kuya, together with 2 of our neighbors (Miko and Kuya Allan) and I went out again to Marcos Hiway to look for food and water to buy. What we experienced in Marcos Hiway was something I am still trying to believe.

The roads were post-apocalyptic. Cars stalled and left out on the streets. People walking soaking wet and muddy, hoping to find a place that would sell food and water. The four of us walked down Marcos Hiway to Pasig/Cainta to look for a place to sell us food, water, candles and batteries, but was only able to buy around 10-15 small bottles of water. Kuya brought it back home to bring to the rest of the families, while the three of us walked the other way of Marcos Hiway to Masinag, hoping the drugstores and convenience shops would still be open. It was a long, wet and depressing walk, around 6-7 kilometers (as my brother estimated).

My room-turned-evacuation shelter.
My windows can't be left alone because it's gaping open.

We successfully got to buy the stuff we needed, so by around 8PM we were back in the house, feet sore from the wet trek through Marcos Hiway. At 9, everyone was tired and sad, so we all tried to sleep on the dry nooks and crannies of our house.

Monday, September 28

The water had completely subsided. What was left was mud. Mud everywhere, and our destroyed, devastated houses. Kuya Peewee and I decided to bring the kids and his wife to our house in Cubao, but was unsure how we could and if we actually could already travel through Marcos Hiway on a car. Luckily, our cousin Kuya Ali came to us out of the blue to check up on us, providing a way for us to drive to Cubao and bring the kids to safety. Slowly, we could see how everything else experienced the great flood.

The house that we drove away from was encrusted in thick mud. We don't know where or how to begin cleaning up and rising from this deluge.

Our shoes.

Our storage cabinets in the garage.
We haven't opened them all because we know they've collapsed inside,
Glassware might crash onto us so we hope we figure out how to clear this.

The mud, encrusted on our gates.

The first time I got online after the tragedy, I was moved by everyone who showed concern and helped those who were hit by the flood. Seeing the gravity of the calamity is still unreal to me - having been in the center of it for the past few days. We could've been the ones swept away. We could've been the ones lost, missing, or struggling in the evacuation centers.

We were perhaps one of the luckier ones, and though we don't know where to begin, at least we have somewhere to begin. I cannot help but think about the others who had it much worse. I want to help, but I feel so impaired not to be able to help right now, because my family and I need to pick ourselves up too.

I told my mom I'll be in Ateneo helping pack relief goods for the victims tonight - we have to stop rebuilding the house once it gets dark anyway, and I want to do something. She and Kuya said to just stay put, but I'll do something about it. Having been trapped and fearful for our lives and at the mercy of a rising flood was horrible. Having to walk through a highway to look for food and water was horrible. I want to do a little something for the others who went through - or are still going through - what we experienced.

2009 hasn't been very good to us, to my family. I hope all the pain and loss and tragedies end with this flood, a brutal baptism of sorts.

I hope, as with the biblical cliche, that after this real-life biblical occurrence we see a real-life biblical rainbow, too.

Surviving.

~~~

To my friends who have helped, or are helping in their little way in the many relief centers, please do. Think about how the bags you packed and the milk and canned goods you donate will give hope to all of those who have nothing left but hopelessness. We were only able to confirm that all our family members are okay just this morning, but some friends remain out of contact, perhaps because there's still no network coverage and electricity to charge cellphones. Keep hopeful, guys!

Thank you to everyone who sought us out and are helping us through this. You don't know
how much you've touched our lives. Continue to offer a helping hand to our other less-fortunate kababayans!