ipersonallybelieve

The first time I felt very vague of what tomorrow would bring was in 1984 when the economy was so down and the prospects were so bleak for new graduates like me. Yesterday, while we read of doomsday warnings through text messages (some of them were actually irresponsible gossip), I could feel the heaviness in my heart because I was imagining that worse could befall my family after we were luckily spared from the cruelty of Ondoy (despite the fact that we are from flood-prone Malabon). I do not know but I had the feeling that it is the Reaper’s season what with Indonesia and Samoa adding considerably to the number of souls called upon by the Creator. I only had myself to worry about in 1984, but now I have a brood of three extremely promising young Filipinos (sorry, the stage mother in me made me say this) and I wondered if life is about to end for them as well. I was already imagining us on the roof although if this scenario ever happens, that would mean the whole of Malabon disappearing into the sea. Ours is the last to get flooded in the present state of affairs. I could just shudder at the thought that finding my family on the roof of our house would mean the end for my relatives and friends who live in the low-lying areas of our sinking city.

What got me through the night of course was prayer; which I think was the common weapon wielded by millions of Filipinos who were equally threatened by Pepeng. Prayers seemed to have worked once again for our country as Pepeng, this morning, was reported to have weakened and slightly changed course, sparing NCR from a direct hit. I hope our kababayans in the other regions would not suffer much from this typhoon’s wrath.

Pepeng weakens and changes course

Prayer Power

amphibious vehicle-not!

Last Saturday, at around 2 pm, I was feeling God-forsaken for not being able to get a ride home from school. I cursed the rain because it did not stop even as I literally commanded it to in the same way I told a presence in our faculty room to ‘shut up’ because I was getting scared. I looked for a different route towards home only to be subjected to a horrible ride which I tried to avoid experiencing an hour earlier. I took a pedicab along Dagat-dagatan Avenue hoping to reach the local mall in a few minutes and sparing myself from the murky, stinking waters of Letre. I was not lucky. The pedicab guy chose to go the long way and negotiated the side streets subjecting us to waist-deep water despite my protestations. I have always abhorred the flood waters of Malabon since I began to realize it was not the same brown waters I waded in when I was young. The waters, thanks to pollution and poor drainage systems could well be the dirtiest, stinkiest and most leptospirosis- prone water in the whole wide world. And the pedicab driver did not prepare me for it.

I got home an hour later and broke down at the door. I felt that I would die anytime soon because disease-carrying floodwaters managed to enter my body. I quickly took a warm bath because I was already feeling very, very cold. I regretted going to school that morning but was glad I was back home in the company of my family.

We spent the night huddled together listening to the news from the cell phone. Electricity was cut off late afternoon. The phone was dead and the only source of news was JAM 88.30. It was an FM station but the only one to see the urgency to cut through the usual programming and instead be the conduit for thousands of stranded people and the news that got in, mostly calls for help, revealed to us a situation never before experienced in NCR.

I spent the night commiserating quietly with the residents of Marikina and Cainta. I was worried for my friend Joahn, and tried to recall who else I knew are from the area hardest hit by the floods. The next day, I realized it was also the worst flood in the history of my birthplace, Niugan.

My brothers arrived soaking wet after wading through waters as deep as 6 feet. They reported that my Kuya’s house was submerged neck-deep wasting all the furniture they have in the ground floor. My niece’s newly-purchased ref was not spared. My sister-in-law’s van in the next house was laid to waste as well and their beautiful living room and kitchen had a taste of murky water for the first time. The same stories I heard repeatedly over radio actually happened to my own siblings. But still, they were none the worse compared to whole houses being lost in Provident Village, etc. So far, we have never experienced being on rooftops because of the flood.

It is an oft-repeated line that death is the great equalizer. Now, we know that flood waters are a great leveler as well. The rich and the poor, their mansions and shanties may both be rendered useless by the floods. Also, times have changed. Malabon residents have been used to being asked how we are when flooding occurs. Now, it seems we have been upstaged by other cities and municipalities. We do not hear our city’s name anymore in the news. It is not that we are jealous of the shift in attention. Our hearts go out to the many victims of Ondoy. Flooding in Malabon has become part of our lives. But we know that its latest victims were never prepared for it. We grieve for the losses and we pray for immediate recovery of everyone who suffered.

The rains are here again and floods, despite being a way of life in Malabon, still make me think whether or not our beloved sinking city will disappear from the map soon.

I chanced upon a google rendition of the map above and the streets are not detailed as if they have been permanently submerged by something. Actually, the said google map is incomplete and the search engine company is asking people knowledgeable in map-making to complete the picture. I guess it is not easy to draw a place’s detail when you can hardly see through the murky waters.

Global warming is not all to blame for Malabon’s perennial flooding. Imelda Marcos is! She was the one who had the brilliant idea to reclaim the fishponds that characterized the picturesque baytown a generation ago and turn it into congested Dagatdagatan. Displaced waters from the ponds of course had to look for other places to go and they decided that the streets and houses of Malabon are it. A lot of old houses have since said goodbye to their ground floors. New houses, if any, that are being built are mini “skyscrapers” which are actually useless considering that the surrounding streets get flooded anyway, isolating houses like lonely castles.