Just you wait.

My day will come too. And I swear I'll never be as insensitive and insecure as you.

A few pent-up sentiments.

For different people or just one. You be the judge.

1. It doesn't make me any less than you. Let's just see how it all turns out, shall we?
   
2. Sometimes I really wish I could get angry. As in fuming-blow-my-top-let-the-PMS-take-over mad. I bet it would feel really, really, really good.
3. You really can't expect from anyone, can you? I should've known. Just as it was starting to seem like you care, you let me know how it really went down. Disappointing is too mild a word.

Wow. I feel better already. Thanks!

Murmurs

I'm frustrated over a petty, trivial thing. Especially in light of all that has been happening lately. It's distracting. And a distraction is the last thing I need right now, when I have two exams in a few hours. Tsk. I should've known. Kaartehan ko kasi. Haha.

Homesick.

I now know the true meaning of the word.

:(

Back to reality.

Oh, Ondoy.

I don’t know where to start. That’s the way I felt when I first saw the disaster that is now our house. And that’s the way I feel now as I attempt to write about the experience that will forever be the turning point of our lives. I’ll try to do everything chronologically, to indulge my perfectionist tendencies.

Saturday morning. I woke up at 8 AM, which was late, as I had planned to study the whole day for my biochem exam. Already the rain was pouring heavily. I kissed my mom goodbye before she left for a family gathering in the South. As I was eating breakfast, my dad noticed that rainwater was starting to collect on the streets outside. He anticipated the flood (which had twice before occurred, the water entering our house at knee level) and asked me to help him move our three remaining cars (as one was with Mama) to higher ground, which was just at the end of the street.

To prepare for the possibility that the water would enter our house, Papa, Yaya Arlie, Yaya Sonia, Monch, and I started moving our downstairs furniture upstairs (which is a mere four steps higher). We moved the ref, various tables, chairs, even our dog, Mookie. But the water was rising alarmingly fast. Papa said pag umabot na ‘yung tubig sa third step ng stairs, alis na tayo. This happened in what seemed like minutes. But we could no longer leave, so we decided to go up to the highest point in our house—the tiny attic. We brought everything we could, while the two Yayas still scurried to bring up everything they could. They managed to bring up three TVs, paintings, various appliances while we upstairs were calling tama na yan, akyat na kayo, iwanan niyo na yung mga gamit. Only when they were neck deep in the water (on tiptoes) did they finally heed our calls.

So the five of us (six including Mookie) were stuck in the attic all of Saturday night until Sunday afternoon. We had some food to eat, just a few bottles of mineral water, and only a makeshift toilet. You can bet I was feeling sooo Anne Frank. Haha. Though I was as worried and scared as the rest of them, I knew I had to be the calm, strong one, especially for Papa, who is hypertensive and diabetic. I led them in praying the rosary, the Memorare, the prayer of Jabez, the novena to the Infant Jesus over and over and over again as we could do nothing else. We could hardly sleep; we would pass the time by watching the water level rise (over our gate, almost until the ceiling of our garage).

We had five cell phones with us in the attic but the signal was limited and very erratic. We also had to conserve our battery because we didn’t know how long we would be stuck up there. Mama was very worried about us but we assured her that we were all okay and that we had enough food and water for the night. She was trying very hard to contact people who might be able to rescue us. The rain finally stopped late that night, but it would start drizzling every now and then. Every time it did I would pray again Lord make the rain stop, please make it stop, please let the floods recede, please let this all be over.

Sunday morning. We received a call from Mama that she had contacted Papa’s boss, the president of San Miguel Corp, Mr. Ramon Ang, and he told her that he would send a helicopter for us right away. Mrs. Lydia Ragasa, the woman in charge of all of SMC’s aircrafts, said that they could do this at 5am at the earliest. So beginning 5am, at the sound of an approaching chopper, Papa would climb up to the roof (no easy feat for him) and wave an improvised flag. After a few false alarms, SMC’s chopper finally arrived at around 11am. Unfortunately they could not land on any of the rooftops or even descend low enough so that we could climb aboard (they had no ladder and it was unsafe for them to land due to the electric cables all around the houses). They resorted to dropping a life raft to us and telling Monch that he would have to row us to a place where there was no water and they could land for us to climb aboard safely.

While figuring out how to get the life raft to inflate, our savior arrived in the form of Kuya Armand, a school bus driver employed by one of our neighbors and a guy Monch gets to play basketball with sometimes. Since the day before he had been swimming around (yes in the filthy, muddy water), helping in whatever way he could—bringing the little food or water he could find to those who had not eaten, for example. Kuya Armand helped figured out how to inflate the raft for us and assisted us as we climbed aboard it. But more than that, Kuya Armand pushed and pulled our little raft all the way until the foot of Manggahan bridge where there was no more water. It took him a good two hours! Along the way, other men would help but would drop out because of fatigue or cramps. But Kuya Armand was tireless. He was even cheerful, cracking jokes to lighten up the depressing mood.

As we made our way slowly through the waters, I was overwhelmed by everything I saw. Riverside Village and Ortigas Extension had become one long river. All houses, establishments, vehicles were submerged; none were spared. People were wading through the waist- to chest-deep flood. We passed by several of our neighbors in Riverside, those who had not been able to go home. The same questions were asked over and over: Saan kayo galing? Mataas ba ang tubig sa inyo? Nakita niyo pamilya ko? Naku, kumusta na sila? Some were in tears worrying about their family members, others were attempting to bring food home to their children who had not had anything to eat since the day before. We left the life raft with Kuya Armand, who we heard went back to save more people and did not accept payment when some tried to give it.

We were finally picked up at the Jollibee by Sto. Rosario church by Mama, Tito Popot and Tito Elmer. It had never felt so good to see them all again. We all headed to Diamond Hotel, where we are staying until now, thanks again to the generosity of Mr. Ramon Ang who told us we can stay as long as we need.

We are overwhelmed by the generosity of so many others. Already we have received four different offers for places to stay while we fix our house. Countless have also offered to help clean up. Our relatives have given us clothes, shoes, toiletries, food. I also can’t help but be proud of all of the relief efforts that are ongoing. Thank you, thank you, thank you. You are all heroes.

My family is still lucky despite everything. Our clothes can be washed, our furniture and appliances replaced, our cars can be repaired. Let us pray for the others who lost their entire homes, and especially for those who lost their loved ones. Let’s also pray that the other storms that are also making their way here do not arrive. I think we can all do without the rain for awhile.