The days after the typhoon went by swiftly as morning turns
to night faster than it does on December. Mostly because we were forced to be
at home at 5 pm, or once the sky started to darken. There was no electricity
power, the whole province was in a total blackout.
There were occasional
generators run by these big media companies and NGO’s, but even that came
later, and it was only in selected areas like the City Hall. We would walk
everyday to the City Hall, because it was the only place where there was
signal, thanks to these big telecoms with their own satellite dish to serve the
people of Tacloban. On the third day, I learned from my friends, whom I met
along the way, (walking became a part of our daily life since there was no
public transport available), that there was free 3-minute internet use at the
City Hall. I took the chance to be able to send out a message to my relatives
and friends to inform them that we were okay and that we needed help.
I chose to post a
status on my Facebook account since it was the best thing that could send out
my message to as many people as it can. I wasn’t able to wait for the replies
or comments because time was very limited, there was a long line behind me
waiting for their turm. There was a TV network doing the interviews and the
person before me was interviewed, so I guess , if my relatives were watching
that channel they would have seen me. The only time I was able to scan through
my Facebook account was when we were out of Tacloban and boy was I surprised to
find so many comments on my post, friends asking for their relatives, asking me
about the situation.
 |
| I would like to say I am sorry to everyone who send me messages to check on their relatives. I only got to read your comments after I reached Manila. We were given only 3 minutes to use the internet for Facebook so we can tell our status to relatives and friends. Also, there was no means of transportation. I can't walk to these places because I was mostly alone, walking on my own and I have kids waiting for me at home. I am so sorry. |
This was that incident that I had to run for cover because
some detainees from the nearby detention center had a situation. Two to four
detainees apparently grabbed a jail guard’s service pistol. They were also in a
panic mode. If free people were in a panic in the world outside, how much more
for them who were inside the jail? They were also affected by the storm surge
since the whole of Tacloban City was under water. How they managed to survive,
I do not know. But one thing I know, they were also starving inside , that’s
why most of them were released, to look for their relatives . The prison
management does not have anything to feed them too.
After running for cover and experiencing how it was like the
movies when someone just tells you to keep your head down and no sudden
movement, I started to panic because I was thinking what if the gunman barged
into the room I was in and took us as hostage. I frantically prayed. My body
was trembling as I tried to fit under the tables, not feeling the shards of
broken glass lying on the ground. After which seemed like forever and finishing
a couple of Our Fathers and three Hail Mary’s, somebody said all clear. I didn’t
even know if indeed there was a gunman inside or what. We all acted out of fear
and traumatized . I was in the same position as then PIA Reg.8 Director Olive
Tiu, an aunt, my father’s cousin’s wife.
That was when I was finally able to use the 3-minute free
Facebook but it was already getting dark. I had to brave the dark so I can
finish my goal for that day, to inform my family and friends about our
whereabouts. I walked alone for almost 1.5 kilometer going home without any
flashlight with me.
What I did was to walk behind a group who had flashlights.
But there were times that they would make a turn so I have to continue walking
home. Good thing there was a full moon that night. And that was when I started praying, talking
to God, while I walk. I asked him why such thing happened to us. I was talking
while I was walking home. Sometimes I thought that I was going to lose my mind.
I keep on asking God, why? I would occasionally stop because there were things
along the way, it could have been dead bodies, because dead bodies were all
over. The clearing up had not started yet. The stench was getting stronger, seeing dead bodies along
the road became a normal sight.
My kids were just at home and I was starting to worry
because my supplies box was getting emptier each day. In a couple of days, I
won’t have anything to feed us. I was able to ask for some rice from an
acquaintance, Mano Herman, (thank you btw) but he insisted I hid it in a bag
because he was afraid his neighbors would know that he had sacks of rice (they
were able to loot in one of those rice mills). He gave me extra packs of
noodles. At that time, generosity had a limitation. You only choose who you can
be generous with.
The third day had me waking up early and walking back to my
friend’s house because we already planned on leaving Tacloban. We already
understood the situation, that there was nothing to hope for and wait for.
Staying there would mean hunger for us. I don’t have a male companion at home,
so how can I compete with those who have? At that time, the more men in your
household, the bigger chances you’ll survive. You have someone who will barge
into the stores to loot for the family. In my case, I had none. In the survival
game, I was weak because I do not have the courage to join in the looting
spree.
I went to my friend M's house and we set out to look
for surviving members of our association. We remembered our dear friend Candy
who just got married on September, almost a month before the typhoon. She was
on the heavy side, so we worried and also because their house was in San Jose,
near the airport, which was one of the badly hit place.
It was only a day after that we learned she didn’t make it.
Her mom and brother died with her and only her husband survived.
Me and M walked , hitched and walked again, in search
of some of our friends. Another aunt, my dad’s sister was assumed missing. Her
daughter in law went to M’s house that morning and asked if my aunt passed
by because after the typhoon, she set out and started walking going to a cousin’s
house in Palo. I don’t know how many kilometers is that but it could be like
walking from Baclaran to Lawton or more. I worry because my aunt was diabetic.
They checked-in at Leyte Park Hotel, which was also located on a beachfront.
Good thing they had the presence of mind to move to higher ground when the wind
started blowing hard and the pressure blew up the whole glass door.
We parted ways around lunch time and when I went back to
their house, she already left for Manila via a commercial plane. ( There were commercial planes coming in and
out of Tacloban already aside from the C130’s that started transporting people
out of Leyte). At this time, there was not much people leaving yet. Some were
still able to get queue numbers especially if you have someone who needs
medical attention.
M was a Civil Engineer and daughter of one of the
political families in a town in Leyte, but I was quite amused by her. While
walking the streets of Tacloban, we saw an empty container that was good enough
to use as a makeshift wagon. She tied a string on it and we were tugging it
like scavengers would and we checked on whatever thing we could get that can
still be used. But then the string snapped so we have to leave the wagon behind.
There were less bodies at the downtown area compared to our
place in Real St., one of the main streets in the city. Dead bodies were strewn
all over the coastal side of Tacloban. That was just the other side of the
street.
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