Rain, rain, go away...

I was supposed to write a sun-shiny piece on breakfast. But as of the moment, it has been raining for three weeks. Last July 21, Saturday, I woke up early and it was dark. I received a text from my student and friend, Chelsea, asking if classes have been suspended. I told her there is no announcement yet so she should attend her classes in the graduate school.

Little did I know that Typhoon Ferdie (a.k.a. international code name Vicente) would pour down rain comparable to that of a typhoon three years earlier. My poor friend. She had to brave the floods when classes were suspended and she had to go back home. And I was safely esconed at home.

On Monday, classes were suspended because of continuous rains. It was midterm week in our school so the students got an unexpected reprieve. On Tuesday, confusion reigned when conflicting news appeared on texting on social networking sites. It rained all day. And all week.

Then Typhoon Gener (a.k.a. Saola, named after a rare mammal in Vietnam), skirted eastern Luzon and sucked in the western monsoon, causing more rains.

It is raining now even as I type.

So I decided to write a short memoir on one of the worst typhoons to hit the country: Typhoon Ondoy, a.k.a. Ketsana.

September 26, 2009. I was supposed to attend my MA classes at Philippine Normal University, Manila. It had been raining. No sweat. So I wore my trusty pair of Wellington boots. Little did I know they would be of little use.

I arrived at school at around 7:00 am. Our professor, Dr. Gina Gonong, was not there. Then she called me on my phone saying that she will not be able to make it due to flooding along España. (I heard that her car almost floated.)

Okay, so I thought. It’s just a usual typhoon. So I foolishly whiled away some time at school, hoping that the typhoon would blow over. I was wrong.

Then, some of my classmates and I decided to brave the winds, the rains, and the floods and to rush to the nearby SM City Manila. Our clothes were all soaked and we were all barefoot—we had to remove our footwear because of the floods. So were a lot of other people wet and barefoot. Our backs and feet were cold because of the airconditioning.

When I arrived at the exit towards the LRT Central Terminal, I got the surprise of my life.

The water had become so high. Workers were piling sandbags to keep the water from entering the mall and flooding the lower ground floor.

I took out my cell phone and took a video of what was happening.

ME: Ayan po, may barikada dito sa SM. Kita nyo po, ang daming taong stranded. (I pan the cmera to the side showing how deep and wide the water is.) At dagat na po ang kalye.(Then I pan my camera down to show that I am wearing galoshes.)

Okay, I thought. I just have to get to the Park and Ride so I can catch a bus home. The problem is how.

The only way was to ride one of those “pedicabs”—bicycles with sidecars attached—from SM to Central Terminal. The pedicab drivers were making a killing. It was forty pesos for the required distance…in waist- to chest-deep water! So passengers had to ride on top of the sidecars! I shared a cab with Maricris Valera, a deaconess in our church and also studying at PNU.

I was crazy enough to pull out my camera to get a reportage of the situation.

ME: Narito po kami ngayon sa SM! at napakatindi po ng baha!

MARICRIS: Namamangka po kami! Para kaming Titanic!

When we got to the Unibersidad de Manila, we parted ways. I had to remove my boots and hoist them and my bag over my head because the water was stomach-deep on the sidewalk. When I got to the Park and Ride, I and a lot of other passengers had to wait for more than an hour for a bus to arrive. I was wet, tired, and hungry.

At around 4 pm a bus arrived. It was promptly filled with passengers. I had to sit on the small fold-out chair beside the driver (which I think was supposed to be for the conductor).

I took out my camera phone again and recorded the first part of the journey out. The bus crew said they left Tagaytay at nine o’ clock in the morning. As the bus pulled out of the terminal, the full gravity of the situated appeared before us. What was supposed to be road became a sea.

ME (to the driver): Ngayon lang kaya nangyaring ganito?

The next video clearly shows how big the waves are caused by the bus. “Parang dagat!” a woman behind me remarked. I could have sworn the water almost reached the windshield.

Dry land is not a myth, I thought to myself. Manila has turned into a Waterworld.

It was relatively quick going to Manila to Baclaran. But when we crossed into Coastal Road, our ordeal began. Vehicles stretched as far as the eye could see. We were all wet, tired, irritated, hungry. Some people got the urge just to get off the buses and walk. I decided to stay put—at least the bus will protect me from the elements. At one point, like manna from heaven, a fish cracker vendor came aboard. That was my dinner. By this time, my phones had either run out of juice or shorted.

I arrived home at 3:00 in the morning, after eleven hours on the road. It was Sunday already.

I gave myself an hour of sleep and got up again. I had to go to church to conduct services to any of those present and to see how things were going. But going there is an adventure in itself. And that’s another story.


Postscript: Today is my birthday. It rained very hard last night and early morning so the authorities suspended classes once more. Coincidentally on the WB, the episode on The Big Bang Theory was on Leonard's birthday. This I enjoyed with a breakfast of Spam, fried egg and fried rice.