A harrowing experience with Reming

We were there in Albay when typhoon Reming hit the province. The Bicolanos, who experience one super typhoon after another, were one in saying that Reming was the strongest howler they have ever seen. A friend recalled what the oldies refer to as “bagyong Ogis,” which literally means “white.” It happens when a thick mist covers an area and the waves turn white due to an extremely strong wind. It is capable of peeling off the bark from trees and can destroy whole vegetation. That’s exactly what happened when Reming struck in Nov. 30, 2006.

Our experience that day can be described as most harrowing. It was worse than the 1990 earthquake (we were in Baguio then). At least in that earthquake, it was mostly the tall structures that crumbled down. With Reming, nothing was spared by the violence brought by the deadly mix of strong wind, non-stop rain, and cascading lahar and rocks from Mayon’s slopes.

Most vulnerable were the homes of the poor, which were demolished by Reming’s first blow. The now homeless families with kids in tow scampered to find a safer place, dodging the flying branches and GI sheets. For few minutes I went out to close our gate and I felt splinters of wood and rocks hitting my body. The wind almost blew away my shirt.

Our place was a two-story concrete house but I still thought that we’re going to die that day. Peering from our window, we saw nothing but a white sheet of wind and rain. The 265-kph winds sounded like a huge wrecking ball that kept on banging and banging our walls and roofs for six hours.

Every now and then we would hear a loud crash as wood planks and GI sheets would hit the house. Our wooden door began to “bubble” as water and wind found their way through its tiny holes. In few minutes, the wind slammed the door so hard it broke the door frame. We had to push two cabinets against it or else the strong winds would get in and blow away our roof, just like what happened to our neighbors’. Our roof leaked badly, which never happened before. Soon our second floor area was flooded. Our car got hit by a wood plank denting its roof and breaking the side mirror. Later the whole garage structure collapsed.

We prayed so hard but, as the night dragged on, we became too weak to utter anything. We could not even whisper “thank you to God” when the wind slowed down. It was dark then and we did not have the strength to prepare anything to eat. We just lay down on makeshift beds clutching some wet blankets and tried to sleep.

The next morning, we forced our aching bodies to get up to clear the enormous mess. We had to bring out the clothes and blankets from the closet to dry, along with so many drenched books and documents. As we went out, we could not recognize the once familiar streets. Practically all the posts with their twisted wires were lying on the streets. Trees became lifeless stumps.

People like zombies were quietly and slowly moving around to find their missing roof. It was only on the second day when people began to talk.

We heard that several people living near the fishport got killed.

My daughter had a fever for few days due to trauma. She said later “I thought I was so brave.” Food, gasoline, mineral water became scarce.

Construction materials tripled in cost and there was looting and a tsunami scare. We couldn’t sleep well at night fearing that looters would come. Carrying bolo and steel pipes, they would pry open the steel gates of the stores, including one that sells party gowns. Our faucet was dry and our mobile phone had no signal for several days. When the signal came after a week, people rushed to the pier where the signal was strong to call their loved ones. During that first week, local officials seemed immobilized. Nothing was going on at the municipal hall except one janitor laying stacks of official documents on the porch to dry in the sun.

It was still dark when we heard some people yelling our name. It was our pastor and his family. Their place was near a river and that night someone shouted that a tsunami was coming because they thought they saw that the sea was receding. In the dark, people were panicking and running to higher places. Later that day, even those who live in hilly places panicked when they heard the (false) news. A few days after the typhoon, there seemed to be an increase of insane people who were wandering around. The traffic along a major road was stalled because one of them pretended to be a traffic officer.

People couldn’t evacuate to schools since they were also ruined. It was announced that there were no classes till January. I suppose there should be a certain standard in building schools in typhoon-prone areas like Bicol because people depend on them for evacuation. A concrete gutter must be placed at the edges of the roof (simple houses that had gutters were not “de-roofed”). They should be elevated, provided with more toilets and the seats should be convertible to beds.

It would be rainy and windy at night and we would be tormented with the thought of people who had no decent roof to shield them. After a week, for our sanity’s sake we had to leave Bicol to stay with some relatives in Manila. Along the way, we saw more destruction. Worst were areas where lahar and boulders as huge as cars buried villages. People and animals were buried alive there causing some residents and passersby to complain of the stench.

Kids were begging alms from passing motorists. When we reached Manila, I noticed that the news reports were not giving enough details. This was one rare moment when the press did not exaggerate. It’s also upsetting that our government leaders are more concerned with charter change. One young and popular Bicolano congressman was seen in an anti-charter change rally. I would rather see him with his constituents, distributing relief goods and providing comfort.

Our kababayan who were not affected by the typhoon should thank God that they were spared such a tragedy. They should also be thankful to their fellow Filipinos who live in places like Bicol that serve as entry point and shock absorber to typhoons that hit the country. Their best way to show their concern and solidarity with the typhoon victims is to keep on giving and praying until the Bicolanos finally are able to regain their hope and rebuild their homes and lives.

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Estigoy-Arzadon is a community organizer with several NGOs and a freelance writer. She has been living in Tabaco, Albay the past three years. Donations for victims of Typhoon Reming can be facilitated by emailing her at chedarz@philnavs.org.