The Flood

IT HAPPENED again after almost eight years — only, it’s stronger this time.

I thought it wouldn’t rain as hard as it did yesterday. When we arrived from Marbel at about half past three yesterday, the sky was not really dark. After my last class, it started to drizzle. Then the wind started to blow. Soon after, the sky darkened and a heavy downpour followed.

The students who were getting ready to go home started to worry. There were only few vehicles on the school grounds so some of them started walking under the rain out of fear that the rain would not stop until nightfall.

I told my co-teacher that it was the strongest rain I have seen in years. She told me that it was just normal. But I had a gut feeling that if it would last for half an hour more, a flashflood of the same magnitude of the one that took place on November 1, 2000, would hit our town.

When I reached home, the rain was pouring even stronger. It felt like cats and dogs were hitting the roof, as described in an idiom. I lay on my bed for it was really a very tiring day. In no time, I was asleep.

A sound of people speaking in loud voices roused me from sleep. It was very dark. Blackout, I realized. I walked out of my room and heard my nanay and my brother talking about a flood. I realized that I had been asleep for more than two hours already and the rain still hadn’t stopped. I prayed in silence.

My brother was describing how high the water had risen that it inundated the village across the river, bringing with it some houses and people. He said that he helped save some of the people there until the rescuers arrived. He also said that affected families were being brought to the gymnasium, which served as evacuation center.

Later that night, a vehicle stopped in front of our house, it was sister and his husband, panicking. They talked about the gravity of the disaster and who the affected families were.   They were supposed to fetch my niece, a nurse who works in GenSan. They told me to text her to look for a place where she can spend the night because the provincial road was impassable.

The next morning, I received a text message from our principal asking us to go to the school because flood water had entered the faculty rooms. I went there hurriedly.

I passed by the affected village. The water was still quite strong and it had carved its way out from its original path into the village, where most of the houses were half-buried in mud and silt.

The road to school was still covered with knee-deep mudwater, in some parts of the road the water was still up to the waist. I crossed it on foot because the motorcycle could not go through it.

When I reached the school, some workers were already cleaning the mess. I saw some of my students’ outputs drenched in floodwater. I did my part in cleaning the mess. Later some students came and helped, too. Three co-teachers arrived later and we did not leave the faculty rooms until the mud was cleaned up. But still, there would be lots of work to do on Monday.

Why did this happen? Is it nature showing its wrath towards people? In my past posts, you can see how barren our mountains are:

http://ariellalisan.org/2008/05/28/earth-day-eco-walk-at-calminda-watershed/

http://ariellalisan.org/2008/01/18/day-2-%e2%80%93-the-trek-to-kiangkos/