The Tacloban Chronicles: Hope

This school in Alangalang town is one of several destroyed by Yolanda in the Visayas. Photo by the author

Dreams
"This building was built in the 1940s," the man said, pointing to a wooden school building raised on stilts that characterized similar structures coming from that period. Our camera crew marveled at the way it was built, and how it managed to withstand sustained winds of over 300kph from the storm without any signs of visible damage.

Our wonder was short-lived. The man led us on inside the building, reminding us to "watch out for that gap." In the darkness, I felt my heart skip a beat as a yawning 10-foot hole opened up on the floor before me; the storm had literally pried off several of the hard, narra planks that were nailed down for more than 70 years, showing the ground underneath. I stepped over the gap gingerly, avoiding the pieces of broken glass, twisted steel, and exposed wiring that awaited me on the other side.

We looked up to see that the roof's steel trusses had collapsed into the building. Parts of the roofing were gone, blown away by the high winds or ripped open and apart as if by a giant can opener. I could see clouds overhead, which poured a light drizzle on us and turned the inside of the building into a wet mess.

A schoolhouse of dreams in ruins in Jaro, Leyte. Photo by author

There were textbooks, notebooks, and school records lying sodden on the floor. Wooden desks with steel frames were tossed into heaps. A bulletin board made of cork advertising the school's Boy and Girl Scout activities stayed stuck on a wall, soaked to the core by rainwater.

Allen, our videographer, put his camera down and looked around sadly as we made our way out of the building. "They're going to tear this building down, and make a new one in its place. Who knows how many dreams were born and realized in and out of this building? They can replace it with something new but it's never going to be the same again."

The story of a lifetime

A gate is all that remains of this house in Salvacion. Photo by author

"There used to be a house there," one of the men sitting in a group by the side of the road told our crew as we made our way around barangay Salvacion in Alangalang town. They seemed to be enjoying the morning sunlight and chatting like nothing really happened.

"Where did the house go?" we asked, trying to make sense of the jumbled pile of wood, a lone mattress, and some clothes and a towel hanging on a makeshift clothesline.

"It got lifted into the air," a chubby man in the group replied, chuckling at the thought, and everyone laughed out loud. "Like it was picked up by a huge hand," he added.

"Like in Twister," Warren, our photographer, whispered to me, trying to hide his amazement but largely failing to do so.

Allen (left) and Warren (right) doing their jobs in Bgy. Salvacion, Alangalang. Photo by the author.

This house, although wrecked, is fortunate to stay on the ground. Photo by author.

"What happened to the people inside?" Allen asked, taking a shot of the wreckage with his camera.

"There they are," the first man replied, pointing at a man with a beer belly wearing only shorts and fetching water at an artesian pump. He looked at us from his chore and waved gleefully at us. "When the house came down it came apart, but luckily they were able to get to that house over there," the first man continued, pointing next to a house made of stone but had its top floor knocked over.

"That must have been one hell of an experience, one you will be talking about in the years to come," I mused, as children from around the street suddenly flocked around us, smiling and giggling for our cameras.

"It sure is," the chubby man turned thoughtful. "I've been here all my life, and in more than 30 years, I've never experienced a storm like Yolanda."

Hope

Church of the Holy Trinity in Alangalang. Photo by author

From Tacloban all the way to Jaro where our trip ended, almost every church we saw, regardless of belief or denomination, suffered storm damages in varying degrees. It was particularly heartbreaking to see the old churches which had withstood time suffering the most.

This particular church in Jaro was like all the others, its roof blown away, its interior gutted and soaked. But for some reason, unlike the others which showed no signs of life, this one had people coming to it. Our crew wondered silently if this house of prayer had become a beacon of hope as people came to ask for Divine help and mercy.

Suddenly my mobile phone, which had not been receiving any messages since we passed the city limits of Tacloban, came to life as it received several text messages. We looked around and realized that every person on the church steps wasn't praying, but communicating with their loved ones.

This church in Jaro becomes a beacon of hope for residents, providing not just spiritual solace but the vital signals to let them communicate with their loved ones via mobile phone. Photo by author.

***
The church in barangay Dapdap in Alangalang town was made of concrete, but it made no difference to the storm. Only parts of the altar, the front frame, and the concrete floor remained.

The barangay chairwoman almost cried as she talked with our team leader, letting our team know how the barangay was doing and what its situation was. Then, one of the health workers gave her a pat on the shoulder and simply said, "Kapit lang (Keep holding on)."

The woman's eyes brightened. "Yes," she said, looking at the destroyed church behind her. "We will build our community once again."

What remains of a church in Barangay Dapdap, Alangalang town. Photo by author.

Children and residents flock around our team in Salvacion. Photo by author.

Children in Jaro enjoy water from a portable water distribution system from Medecins Sans Frontieres (Doctors Without Borders). Photo by author.

MSF plays an essential role in the rehabilitation of Jaro town in Leyte province. Photo by author.

A Philippine flag adorns a house, a proud symbol for the survivors who cling to hope and choose to defy the odds stacked against them. Photo by author.

The Tacloban Chronicles: Darkness

Sunset in Tacloban. Photo by the author.

Damaged Administrative Building in Alangalang, Leyte. Photo by author

A feeling of dread crept slowly over me as the bus made its way across the San Juanico Bridge and crossed into Leyte province on the early evening of November 28. There was no light to be seen outside the windows, save for the headlights of oncoming vehicles and sparse flickering pinpoints of candlelight here and there.

It felt like being sucked into a black hole.

In 2006, after typhoon "Milenyo" turned Metro Manila nights into Earth Hour, one could actually sit back and enjoy counting the stars or hear the delight as children discovered the thrill of nighttime games. Here in Leyte, six years later, there were no streetlights, Christmas lights, or stoplights left in the aftermath of the storm; even the stars above seemed snuffed out.

Top and above: Panoramic views of storm damage in the town center of Alangalang, Leyte. Photos by author

The rising sun did little to dispel the darkness, merely revealing the destruction all around us, and fueling the despair that seemed to rise from the ruins. The team went around the town, surveying the damage, trying to visualize what was needed to rebuild from the massive devastation.

It seemed like a colossal task at best. At every barangay, the team leader tried to get as much information as she could from the barangay chairperson, and in some areas, all she could get was a blank stare, as the hapless village chief tried to make sense of what happened to them.

***
"I was hoping you could help us."

The woman stared at me intently. I tried to look away, but, thought it would be impolite to do so. Instead, I asked the first question that came to mind:

Hasn't the local government been helping you?

She shook her head. "I live there," she said, pointing at her house--or what remained of it--just over 50 steps away from the town hall. "Everyday we see people unloading tons of relief from trucks, like yours," she added, pointing with her lips at our bus several meters away from where we stood. "But we never get any."

Barangay Salvacion lies only a couple of steps behind Alangalang Town Hall, but relief goods takes days to reach them, and when they do, it was usually not enough. Photo by author.

  She went on. "We hardly get anything. The Mormons brought seven sacks of rice to our barangay the other day by helicopter. Our barangay chairman got one sack for himself, and the rest of us had to make do with what was left."

I waited for her to continue.

"All the other barangays, they regularly receive relief from the DSWD, from the Red Cross, or some other group, and also from the mayor. Here, in our barangay, we see the relief goods right in front of us but we are never called to line up to receive something from the mayor."

She corrected herself. "Oh, actually, the mayor did give us something this morning. We all received two kilos of rice and a small potato, to be shared between me, my husband, and three kids."

The Tacloban Chronicles: "Someone died here"

Residents charging their mobile phones at the town hall.

Our team from the city of Muntinlupa arrived past dinner time in the town of Alangalang in Leyte province after over a day's travel. Our mission was to survey the town and find out what was needed as part of the city government's commitment to help in the long-term rehabilitation of the area. The team also brought with them as much food, clothes, supplies, and medicines that two buses and a ten-wheeled truck could carry, as well as much-needed generator sets and chain saws.

The moment we stepped off the bus, we went to work. As part of the documentation team, I was tasked to give a detailed account of what was happening on the ground, 20 days after the worst storm in recorded history blew through the area with unimaginable fury. We immediately saw the long line of people huddled over several electrical extension outlets, charging their mobile phones and rechargable lamps, courtesy of the town hall's newly-donated generator sets. Several youths waved for the camera like it was the coolest thing ever; most just looked down on their possessions, as if silently wishing us to go away and let them grieve their losses in peace.

Someone died here. Photos by the author.

We proceeded to have a look-around. Our team spied a few people just a stone's throw away from the town hall, content to be in the darkness and watching the circus unfold. We decided to approach and have a chat with them. My flashlight beam immediately revealed the wreckage of a collapsed wooden house to my right. Underneath one of the piles of wood was a rain-soaked stuffed bear.



"Someone died here," one of the residents told me as he saw me contemplating the ruin. "The house collapsed on her at the height of the typhoon. She was only 42 years old."

The Tacloban Chronicles: Nightmares

Children fetch water in one of the communities in Tacloban affected by typhoon Yolanda (Haiyan). Photo by the author

The nightmares started the night I came home from Leyte. Each time I closed my eyes, I could see the massive devastation all around me, hear the stillness in the conspicuous absence of the sounds of nighttime commerce, or smell the stench of death. I could feel despair emanating from the wreckage of whole communities ruined in an instant, as I saw people walking or standing around me with blank stares and faces devoid of hope.

I would wake up, drenched in sweat or tears. The covers on the bed are in total disarray, and as soon as I fell back asleep, I would experience hell all over again.

Coconut trees are stripped of their leaves by Yolanda's powerful winds. Entire coconut plantations in the town of Alangalang in Leyte are affected in this way, taking away the primary industries and livelihood of the region's agriculture-based towns. Photo by the author.

Life goes on for this family amid the ruins of their home in Alangalang, Leyte. Photo by author.

An affected community in Jaro, Leyte, Photo by the author.

Whole mountainsides are stripped bare of their foliage in the town of Palo, Leyte. Photo by the author.

Even a concrete house is not spared by Yolanda's fury. Photo by author.

Utter devastation in one of the coastal communities of Tacloban. This scene is a recurring theme in my dreams of late. Photo by the author.

I never got to know this man, who stood dazed for an hour or so beside the road in Alangalang town in Leyte, probably uncertain when he will wake up from the nightmare they have been in since Yolanda struck. Photo by the author.

Just do something

The National Resource Operations Center (NROC) is busy as a hive as eager volunteers do their part for the people of the Visayas. Photo by author.

 
The Ride of Hope has ended, but the real work of bringing help to those in need is still in full swing.

We had the privilege of being part of the relief effort for our kababayan in the Visayas even for a few short hours tonight. Together with our friends, we pitched in at the repacking operation at the Department of Social Welfare and Development (DSWD)'s National Resource Operations Center (NROC) in Pasay City.

Cat (left) and Kali (right) sorting sardines.

I personally believe this is the perfect time for followers of Jesus to put faith into action. We need to mobilize and get our act together--not because of any proselytizing agenda, but because it is the right thing to do.

That's Leo (left) sorting boxes during a lull in the operation. Belle is somewhere to the right, moving relief kits.

As soon as my schedule permits, I would like to go back and help. Meanwhile, as we await pledges to the Ride of Hope, helping with the re-packing operation is a good idea to get things going.

Because doing something, no matter how small, is better than doing nothing.

Because helping is more fun with friends. From left: Kali, Cat, John.

The Ride of Hope still accepts pledges for musical instruments for Faith Bible Christian Church Central in Binan, Laguna, as well as for victims of super typhoon "Yolanda." You can leave a comment to ask the author for bank details.

Walk-in volunteers are welcome at the DSWD-NROC near the NAIA Terminal 1 in Pasay City.

Ride of Hope 2013, Second Leg

Second leg riders, from left: C-j, Leo, the author.

The team failed to reach the Tagaytay endpoint on the second leg of Ride of Hope 2013. Severe cramps forced the riders to turn back from the climbs of Silang and limp home, taking all of seven hours just to reach our home base in Sucat.

My deepest thanks goes to the riders, support crew, sponsors and of course, friends and family who supported this endeavor:

Joy Ride Club (JRC) Ride Of Hope 2013 Team:

Michael Casilum
C-J Indiongco
Leo Bocayes

Special thanks to:

Bisikleta Republika
Jomel & Leony Medina
Safetees Clothing

Special-special thanks to:
Friends and family :D
Faith Bible Christian Church Central & Joy Christian Fellowship for your prayers and support
And to everyone who have made their pledges

Pledges will be accepted until the end of the month.

Our ride is just a drop in the bucket compared to the ginormous task of rebuilding the cities and communities affected especially by "Yolanda." I wish we could have done more, and I fervently pray that you can help us help.

Thank you to everyone and God bless us all.

Ride of Hope 2013, First Leg

At the halfway point of the First Leg at Joy Christian Fellowship in Intramuros. Photo by Cat Zuniga

The first leg for the 2013 Ride of Hope was safely concluded early this afternoon. It covered a little over 48kms and took about three hours.

We have a little under 12 hours in preparation for the second leg, which is meant to raise funds for the benefit of the people affected by the Bohol Earthquake as well as the historic typhoon "Yolanda" (Haiyan).

The ascent to Tagaytay is always the hardest part, followed by the drab plains of Imus in Cavite where we will be passing on our way back. But we need to remember why we will be riding tomorrow, and that is because of the people affected by this:

Your pledges will go a long way to restoring the lives of these people. Proceeds and pledges of the Second Leg will be coursed through the Ayala Foundation.

Why We Ride

On November 10, I will be celebrating another year of God-given life. As such, I wish to make my birthday a celebration not focused on me, but as a way of blessing others.

The annual Ride of Hope is one such way in which I can celebrate another year of life by helping those who are in dire need. Instead of collecting gifts, I would like to pass on any blessing I may receive to those who need encouragement as well as tangible assistance.

In view of the recent spate of disasters—typhoon “Maring” and the habagat, the 2013 Bohol Earthquake, and now, typhoon “Yolanda,” the strongest typhoon so far on record—the 2013 edition of the Ride of Hope will contribute to helping our kababayan who have borne the brunt of these calamities.

The First Leg on November 9 aims to raise funds to purchase musical instruments for Faith Bible Christian Church Central in Biñan, Laguna, a church that was hard-hit by typhoon “Maring.” I wish to help them as this church was one of the first to help us when my lola passed away in 2007.

The riders will be covering around 50kms from Sucat to my home church Joy Christian Fellowship in Manila and back to Sucat via Makati and Bonifacio Global City.

The Second Leg on November 10 will take the riders on a more challenging route from Sucat to Tagaytay and back. This ride aims to raise funds and pledges for those affected by the Bohol Earthquake and typhoon “Yolanda” through the Ayala Foundation.

The entire Second Leg will cover a distance of a little over 100kms plus an elevation of about 500m above sea level.

You can be a part of this effort in two ways. 

1. Per-Kilometer Pledge. You can pledge an amount on a per-kilometer basis. For as little as one peso per kilometer, you can pledge as much as Php150.00 for the First and Second legs.

2. One-Time Pledge. You can pledge a fixed amount regardless of the distance the riders actually covered. 

You can choose to support either or both the First and Second phases of the Ride.

We hope that you will be a part of this endeavor. Not only will you make my birthday celebration meaningful—you will have an opportunity to invest in the life of someone who needs a helping hand.

Love in Action

 “And the King will say, ‘I tell you the truth, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!’ - Matthew 25:40


It's hard to put in words what we've been through the last few days. Although Manila was largely spared from the wrath of the combined effects of tropical storm "Maring (Trami)" and the southwest monsoon, the effects of almost three days of nonstop rain is evident in the outlying provinces of Laguna and Cavite.

Sto.Tomas Road in Binan, Laguna.

Those who lived through the disaster recounted how water rose at a rapid rate of several feet per minute, bringing panic and havoc to homes, businesses, and properties. As the floodwaters receded, tons of muck and garbage were left behind, as well as the seeds of despair as the survivors struggled to make sense of what they had just lived through.

The high water mark reached up to the fence of the house in the background and to the left. One can see there's still garbage clinging to the fence and the plants look waterlogged. That's about six or seven feet of water from the level of the roadway.

That's the river in its normal state. The homes in the background at the banks of the river are a good two stories high from the river. Water overflowed the river banks and flooded homes up to waist level.

That's an awful lot of water.

The last few Sundays, our pastors had been talking about love and how it applies to our lives. The horrible events of Habagat 2013 gave us an opportunity to put hands and feet to the love in our hearts.

Volunteers hard at work repacking supplies for 110 families affected by the floods in Binan, Laguna.

 

Kali and John share an intimate moment in the middle of preparations for the relief effort.

A marathon pledge program saw us raising more than the projected target of Php33,000 (our estimated amount needed to support 110 families for about a week with basic supplies) in two days. Church members and non-church friends pledged their financial support and pitched in the heavy work of shopping, sorting, and preparing the relief kits.

Six days after the flood in Binan, Laguna, we were able to put our sandals and shoes on the muddy ground and minister to people whose lives had been changed by the Habagat of 2013.

Robyn (center) and Kyko (second from left) get ready to hand out the relief kits.

It especially touched me to see our kids helping out. They were probably more excited than I was.

Our effort was a drop in the bucket. There's still more to be done to ensure this kid--and thousands of others like him--have a better future ahead of him.

The task of rebuilding is obviously a tedious one. At this moment I am also hit with the realization that there are sure to be more storms to come, with more horrible sequels to the Habagat of 2012 and 2013. I pray that God may have mercy and spare us the heartbreak, but should he allow it, may he also give us the strength to help those in need.

May we never tire of putting God's love in our hearts into actions that tell people of cities, campuses, communities--and even in our families--that there is a God who loves us so.

Love in action. Photo by Randy Olasiman

Photo by John Hofilena

God is good and great, indeed. :)