For many here, life teeters on the edge of a knife’s blade. A mere thousand pisos ($25.00) can improve the situation for some immensely, but the bludgeoning of a typhoon, like we experienced two days ago, sends thousands beyond the ability to manage and even function. About 600 died from the storm so far, mostly on Mindanao, the island to the south of us. The storm came on so quickly and dropped so much rain that in took no time for the streams to become raging torrents pushing well beyond their banks, for much of it early on, we were unaware. We didn’t go out because of the heavy rain. We knew the ferry boats had cancelled their trips, because missionaries texted they would not be arriving as planned from Cebu. We knew our electricity had been out the day before from the high winds, and was out again. The guard from the resort had brought us a battery-powered light.
Finally the rain slowed down by about 2pm. I ventured out because I didn’t hear any traffic on the road outside. First time. It was eerily quiet. I walked out on the highway and noticed a big crowd down by the church which is somewhat close to the bridge over Amlan River. I told MA that I was going to drive down and take a look. Wow! The water had filled up the church parking lot and was flowing deep on both sides of the highway. I had to park because the police wouldn’t let me get any closer. I walked down the highway that had become a riverbed with the water flowing over the road, people were scurrying about getting their things on higher ground, the highway. The water was up to the steps of the church. I peered down the road to see the once calm, clear peaceful river that normally has children jumping in off the bank and water buffalo lazily standing in the river eating grass was now a raging torrent lashing and tearing everything in its way. The river tried its best to tear out the bridge but it stood solid. Other bridges did not fare so well. The police wouldn’t let anyone across, but and man carrying an old lola (woman) burst out the crown on the other side and sprinted over the bridge. People were there on the other side ready to help him, and she was quickly put into the back of a truck and hustled off. The last thing I heard was she needed tubig (water).
I stood on the edge of the bridge and saw the remains of what was once a beautiful grove of banana trees and lush vegetation flattened and torn out by the raging waters. This was the 19th typhoon of the season. The big typhoons they name after males and the smaller ones are named after women. I think it should be the other way around. J This typhoon was called Sendong. It’s a man’s name. It definitely had the punch of a man.
After seeing what I just saw I knew we were in trouble. The power had just gone out again, and though our resort has a generator, it was broken the first night, and now they had it fixed but were leaving it off in the day time. We take much comfort in our air con. When it goes away, also without any air movements from fans, it gets real hot real fast. I am certain that the man who invented air con is in the Celestial kingdom and if he is not there yet, he certainly has my vote! I don’t think my vote means much though. In our house there is always the low hum of the aircon but we have gotten used to it. That low hum represents something real pleasant like the Mormon Tabernacle Choir at Christmas time. That sound means there is going to be a high degree of enjoyment. No power meant our frozen and refrigerated food had a clock ticking—the brownies and lasagne we had made at great cost and effort for the Christmas missionary district meeting. These were pretty minor things compared with what was happening outside.
Some areas that have many homes are built only a few feet above the bank of the river so it doesn’t take much to send nearby occupants scurrying for higher ground. The national highway was one of the few nearby places. Traffic was mixed with people taking all their earthly belongings to the highway and leaving them there returning for another arm load. Cattle, pigs, dogs and any other animal found on a farm were loitering on the highway between passing buses trucks and cars that had no where to go. People walking up streets with chocolate brown water to their chests with a load of belongings on their head. In the lower areas there was no getting off the road because the water was too deep. The members were on their own, we had no access.
It wasn’t until dark that the water had slowed and receded enough that we could venture into some of the places that we were most concerned about. We knew that one area would be hit really hard. We received a text earlier from the family that said, “help”. Food, water, dry clothes, anything. This is one of the pioneer families here. About 20 members of the family. We felt a real obligation to find them and help. I was with the two full time missionaries. Off we went in the thick of night. Black of night is more accurate. With canned fish, rice, and flashlights we got out of the truck having driven as far as the mud would allow. Rolled up pants and Keens on my feet, off we went looking for our family. The flood waters had been about six feet deep here. There was no real visible sign of the road just my memory having driven down it a few times in the daytime. Here we were with banana trees knocked over and mud everywhere. It didn’t take long before we knew there were other things alive where we were leaving our foot prints in the mud. Worms about 12-18 inches long. One of the elders said its okay elder they are dead. I felt a little better until I saw a few of them moving. I thought what else is alive in the mud. It was about this time that I was having some real issues keeping my Keens on my feet because of the suction from the mud hanging on to them as I pulled my foot out. There was no alternative, off they came. I was amazed at how squishy soft the mud was and I was just hoping not to step on something sharp. On we went. I soon realized that we had taken a zig when we should have zagged and nothing looked remotely familiar. Luckily there was a house with a candle light. I asked the elder to ask where the road is and if they knew the family we were looking for. He said dua. That means “right”. Hmmmm. More downed banana and deeper mud. I was losing confidence. Finally we came to what looked like it might be a road. As we continued down the road, all of us barefoot, I kept telling myself those worms are dead and nothing could have survived this. Something moved. It was a crab. I thought of the thousands of crabs in the crab field and instantly wondered how many more crab fields there were that I will never see, now the flood has scattered them everywhere. Oh, there’s another one! I noticed a flashlight coming our way. Ah, I thought a fellow traveler although more seasoned than we. As we got closer I greeted with a kumusta, maayon gabii! His response, hello elders! This was the guy we were looking for! He turned around and took us back to his house on stilts. Uncle Carlito, one of the few Fillipinos who looks older than his years-- the 55 year old uncle with gout who can hardly walk, although he is the one who walked all that way to church for two weeks running, was so happy to see us. It is the first time I have ever seen him smile. We dropped off their relief, gave Uncle Carlito a few pieces of candy, and we were guided back out. As we descended their stair back into the murky waters, we saw two more crabs with their clompers up out of the water as if extending an invitation to come their way. We didn’t listen to the invitation. I won’t go into detail about going into the next house except there were more crabs and we had a few snakes to boot.
The next morning was a Brigham Young Sunday. For those who could make it to church we had Sacrament meeting, a short Sunday school, then everyone gathered together to make a list of the families that needed to be found and preparations made to get food and water to them. Members were assigned families to check on and then report on to Pres. Bulay and me. Mary Anne and a sister from the branch came to our place and cooked a ton of rice—the electric rice cooker was out, but they had 3 huge pots at a time going on the butane stove. These people needed cooked rice since there was no dry wood for their fires, that is even if they had any wood or rice. Most people had no water available—either to collect from clear rivers as they usually do, or from taps like many have. Our water was fine, because it comes from that big tank we pictured a few blogs ago. It is not filtered,and we don’t drink it, but the branch pres. said the people all do. We filled and refilled about a dozn 5 gallon bottles and all the plastic bottles we had from the tap in our C.R. The rest of the day was delivering rice, cans of sardines and tuna, soap, and water. It is really wonderful to see the look of real appreciation on the faces of these good brothers and sisters: a ray of sunshine and hope amidst the gloom of mud and despair.
There is a last story that needs telling. We live in a house on the grounds of a “resort”. One of the employees in the store of the resort is a member of the church. He is seventeen and a great kid. He works six days a week for 10-12 hours a day. He recently got permitted time off work for two hours on Sunday so he could go to church then back to work. In the morning before church he was standing in front of the store with a couple of plastic bags in his hand just kind of staring. I walked up to him and asked him if everything was okay. He said no. His house was flooded and he lost everything—all washed away. The only thing he had left was the clothes he was wearing. I told him to get in the truck and I would take him home or at least part of the way, I wouldn’t be able to get him in all the way. We made two stops on the way, kerosene and water. This young man told me that the saddest thing was his scriptures and Sunday clothes were all washed away. He then told me of the real big thing. The pig he was raising for money for his mission was washed away. This young man was baptized two years ago, has a more than full-time job, and was thinking about his mission two years in the future. He said that he wasn’t angry about anything. “ I mean Job had it a lot worse than I do. I still have my family who loves me and friends. I am happy but sad all the same everything will be okay.” he said as he walked off with the five gallon water bottle over his shoulder and his left hand carrying the food and kerosene.
The news reports that there are 34 dead in our province—Negros Orienta; 600 dead in all, 400 still missing. Dumeguete City, ½ hour to the south, biggest city in the province, where we go for supplies, is a state of disaster. In Tanjay, the city to the north ½ hour, where we took the Elders home last night, there is destruction everywhere, people camping out at the church.
There have been nineteen typhoons of varying degrees hit the Philippines this year. People still smile. People are also very grateful. They walk on the knife’s edge but they do it very well.
The ferry boats are running again, electricity restored, we picked up the elders last night, we sat here in air conditioned comfort having finished a beautiful dinner made by the greatest woman I have ever known. We drove the elders home (though I was exhausted and everything hurts), and their apt. is okay. I had a glass of clean chilled water with my vitamins before bed in clean sheets, we have a toilet that flushes. I am much more grateful today for all of the incredible things that God has blessed us with than I was two days ago. Are typhoons a blessing or a curse?
Today we will be procuring more supplies for people and then more deliveries and assessing some more medium term needs like rebuilding. The bridge the branch members had built for a family a couple of weeks ago is now washed away and they have no egress from their flooded house except through a neighbor’s property. I don’t even know where they slept last night, the aged grandparents maybe on the floor with the son, his wife and 9 kids. There is much to do.
just north of Amlan 15 minutes, one of the many we shop at.
take the missionaries to in Tanjay after transfers, or District meeting. Notice the man playing the bottle instrument, and another on guitar.
Carrying everyone, anywhere.
