YES, I survived Super Typhoon
Yolanda. I understand I cannot take it
as a badge of honor and that being one in no way gives me any bragging rights in
the fashion of a Mt. Everest climber.
Neither can I speak for all survivors because what I went through may
not even be half their experiences.
Still, surviving a super typhoon is not quite like surviving traffic at
EDSA. I realize this as I write now,
when it is nearly two weeks after Yolanda came and wreaked untold havoc,
together with an immense toll of human suffering, on mainly Eastern but also
Central and Western Visayans as well.
Although the media have focused on Tacloban City and Leyte for good
reasons, several places in my province of Eastern Samar had been hard hit as
well, particularly the towns of Balangkayan, Hernani, Guiuan, Balangiga and
many others.
Surprisingly,
it is not only minuses that I see. I
have also rediscovered some invaluable things about life, which, for want of a
better term, I call insights.
1.
Simplicity
makes life lighter. With no
electricity and its attendant services (cell phone, the internet, etc.) to
complicate our lives, Eastern Samareños are turning in droves to churches, family
and community acts. We have instinctively
re-established family and community bonding, in no time opening our eyes to
other victims who suffered more losses and trauma than we did . it is so disheartening to hear of families torn
by the deaths of other members and the destruction of homes and property, their
cherished memories and hard-earned assets now literally gone with the
wind. But it is equally edifying to
witness people enjoying quire moments of prayer, family or neighborly chats and
the occasional laughter with other survivors and people who care. A young tricycle driver summed up the wisdom
he gained from the terrifying ordeal: “It
now seems clear to me that what comes from human beings which used to make life
easier can just as easily disappear.
Cell phone communications, the internet, houses you spent a fortune to
build, crops you struggled hard to plant or maintain, business structures that
took years to put up—suddenly they were not there anymore. Maybe, I think, God is teaching us only he
doesn’t pass.”
2.
Tragedy uncovers
our basic humanity and the brotherhood of human beings. Forgive me but the first aspect of our
humanity that comes out of tragedy is our basic self-centeredness. Stories of survivors suffering “survivor’s
guilt” come from a realization of how it is every man/woman for himself/herself
at the moment of tragic impact. The
negative human factor was also in evidence when experts failed to make clear to
many people the real meanings of the terms of warning. For instance, “storm surge” was a term many
people dismissed because they did not understand what it meant. Had people been simply told, local leaders
bewail, that they would be dealing with “tidal waves” or “tsunami waves”, there
would have been a more cooperative response to official calls for
evacuation. Still, the more important
side of our humanity is the sympathy and compassion from total strangers who
went to great lengths to offer real, concrete help, such as food, water,
clothes, fuel, and a consoling word or prayer.
3.
Filipino humor tempers
the stranglehold of trauma. Elderly
people and their family members who barely survived the onslaughts of giant waves
(“three waves as tall as out tallest coconut trees,” said one survivor from
Hernani) joked about being forced to bathe by the ocean more forcefully and
more convincingly than by family. When so
many people were into panic buying because of the isolation-generated scarcity
of food, fuel and other basic necessitates, it is told that a boy asked his father,
“Tatay, people are into panic buying.
Why are we here doing nothing?”
the father thoughtfully answered, “Don’t worry, son. We also have ‘panic,’ we just don’t having ‘buying’.” Other people do think odd when we smile or
laugh in the middle of debris and ruins, but Pinoy humor comes in handy when we
are trying to cope with enormous tragedies, such as the one we have been
through. When we laugh together while we
cry over the loss of our loved ones and our properties, we recommit ourselves
to life and sanity. Tragedy has a way of
making psychological wrecks out of people.
But thanks to Pinoy humor, we have a way of breaking out of the grip of
shock and trauma.
4.
Tragedy tests
faith but ironically also serves to refine and increase it. I can still
see the pain in people’s eyes behind unasked question: “We prayed so much to be spared of this super
typhoon, but why did God not hear our prayers?”
Many times I feel tempted to do a Fr. Merino, my OT professor who was
wont to say to a difficult situation, “Wait till I meet God, I’ll ask him that
myself.” For us in Lalawigan, our prayer
vigils bore fruit in the super typhoon not causing us as much destruction as we
expected. Except for houses and cottages
on our shoreline that were either crushed or blown away, most of our houses and
coconut trees are still standing, though battered, bruised or twisted. Most of all, we had zero casualty. As I stood to face the community at Mass on
the Sunday after Super Typhoon Yolanda’s violent invasion, I said, “I am just
so happy to see you all here, alive and well.
Indeed the Holy Eucharist now has a special reason for its
celebration. Let’s thank the Lord from
our hearts for the gifts of life-preservation and protection.” No one objected. Some were in tears over the simple
realization that we could have suffered a worse plight (we could have been
physically absent on that Sunday morning
Mass), if not for God’s merciful response to our prayers.
5.
Credit grabbing
and playing blame game may advance or ruin someone’s political career but both
will further victimize the victims themselves.
To be fair, politicians are among the first to be called upon in tragedy
and also among the first to respond to it.
It is perfectly understandable that these same politicians have rivalries
and enmities build up through the years.
But to use the tragedy of Super Typhoon Yolanda to feed bloated but
false information on the number of casualties and the extent of destruction to
generate media mileage is the height of inhumanity and insensitivity. For example, a priest from Guiuan was so
distressed to hear his hometown suffered 1000 casualties (who would have fed an
information like that to media people unless he had the power and the
means?) the he had to, as it were move
heaven and earth, with his motorcycle, though road debris to see if his mother
and siblings survived. He was grateful
they all did. He was happily surprised,
too, that casualties amounted to less than 100 in the official count (93 as of
the latest). But his happy surprise
turned to outrage when a relative arrived also after having braved the virtually
impassable roads, and exclaiming, “My god, I’m so glad you are all alive. I had to come because I heard our casualties
went by the thousands.” Blessed Henry
Cardinal Newman once likened this type of circumstance to frogs in a pond,
being stoned by boys: “The frogs said to the boys who were throwing stones at
them, ‘For you it may be fun; for us it is death’.” Perhaps we could also say to unconscionable
political leaders out to gain political advantage out of this colossal tragedy: “for you it may be about advancing your
political career; for us it is about our life and death!”
