A Tale of Yolanda: Bangon, Mary Lot!

We have heard and read about so many harrowing experiences of the victims of Yolanda. But nothing can prepare you if you hear it first hand from a family member, or a good friend. Ever since the world knew what happened to Leyte, I had been worried about the only person I know from Tacloban. She was my colleague at Aboitiz, Cebu where I spent my first couple of years as a worker. She was more than just a co-worker to me—she was our department’s mother hen; she was the one who paved the way to lead the hubby to me; she was a dear, dear friend.

Circa 1992. And they call us THE Audit girls: Jennet, Me, Marivic, Maricon, and Mary Lot.

Let me tell you some snippets of Mary Lot's story.

November 7-The calm before the storm

"When the super typhoon was announced by media sources, people in the coastal areas were asked to evacuate by our Mayor two days before. Some followed. Some didn't. For those who followed, they either went to the Tacloban Astrodome or to the nearby elementary school. They were banking on the concrete walls of these buildings. For those who refused evacuation, the Mayor went back to them again and again to remind them to be in a safer place. Others just stayed behind to guard their properties.

Unfortunately, these building structures were near the coastal area, so the evacuees in them perished."

          Tacloban City Convention Center or to the locals, the Astrodome           Photo by IGCacnio

Photo by IGCacnio

"A day before it hit the city, I went to the bank and passed by the Astrodome. I chanced looking at the sea, and I saw nothing. It was like the sea dried up. I even saw some fishermen picking up some shells and crabs on the shore where the sea was supposed to be. I suddenly felt very afraid."

"It was even sunny the day before. Some people were already dismissing how strong the typhoon would really be. However, I felt it was eerily quiet in Tacloban. Yes, there was the usual hum of the traffic, but the sea, the sky and the wind seem to not want to make a sound."

"People were panic-buying. I joined in the fray, which was unusual for me. I bought so much that my kids even asked me why I purchased a lot. Little did I know that these extra goods will save my family, and my neighbors as well.

November 8 - When Yolanda's wrath struck

"Our house has a second floor--the only one in our village that has one. You see, there is a creek nearby, and our place has always been a catch basin of incessant floods. But we were confident that we would be safe in our home. Everyone with a concrete house thought the same way too. We were all proven wrong."

"This is what was left of our second floor. "                                Photo by MMMendoza

"I heard someone calling my name for help. A neighbor with a baby was calling next door. In my attempt to give them a hand, I opened the door of our house, and water started rushing in. It was just a matter of minutes when our whole first floor was engulfed by the raging water. I wanted to save my neighbor, run to them. But the wave was too much for me to handle. I decided to go back inside the house. It was good that they were able to go up their roof and somehow cross to our house, passing by our fire exit."

"Imagine my neighbors going over our roof to enter our house."               Photo by MMMendoza

"I saw the whole roof of our house fly like it was just cardboard. The air conditioners also flew and banged on the walls of our rooms. With the roof blown away, and the ground floor flooded to the ceiling, we didn't have a choice but to hold on to the railings of our stairs. We could feel the firewall swaying. Strong wind and rain struck our faces like needles. This went on for hours, which seemed like eternity."

"Three times the waves hit us. I was praying to God, if that was our end, then His will be done. There was nothing to do but keep our eyes closed, hold on to each other, and pray."

"This firewall was the only one holding us back from being swept away.

If this crack had given in, we would not have survived."                     Photo by MMMendoza

November 9-Is this the apocalypse?

"The day after the storm, we were all wet, tired, scared, and most of all, hungry. The house was still submerged in dirty water. We were able to retrieve some canned goods and wet rice. We found our LPG tank floating by. We were able to cook rice, but it smelled awful. All the food smelled putrid. We just swallowed them. We didn't have any choice but to eat something."

Dirty water and the stench of dead bodies greeted us.      Photo by MMMendoza

Cooking whatever food we could find in the house, including wet, smelly rice.            Photo by MMMEndoza

"There were five other families who took shelter in our house. We also had to feed them, and give them dry clothes to wear. For two days, we were trapped inside our house. The entrance of our village was blocked by tons of debris. Later, media reported that no one survived in our area. There was no means of communication and transportation to reach us. I realized that for a couple of days, we had been dead to the rest of the world."

                                                                    There was no way out of our subdivision.                                   Photo by MMMendoza

"Sleeping? How could we? With no roof over our head, we were holding umbrellas while trying to steal some shuteye. My husband put a carpet over my kids' heads to protect them from the rain at night. Those were the longest nights I have had in my life. Of course, sleep was nowhere to be found."

Shelter no more.                                                          Photo by MMMendoza

November 10-Survival of the fittest

"Looting? People who have never experienced what we had would never understand how it is to be seeing floating bodies, cars on the rooftop, and destroyed houses all around while your family is craving for food. Small stores opened up their small windows to share food to everyone. The men of each household walked hours just to look for food. I felt sorry that big establishments like Gaisano and Robinsons were ransacked. In times like these, I realized that people would turn rabid if their stomachs have been churning empty for days. I can't justify why some people had to kill too. I can't justify why they had to get televisions and appliances and what nots. But with the local government and police being victims themselves, Tacloban was under a state of confusion and violence. No one was there to watch over us."

"We were isolated from the rest of the world."                              Photo by MMMendoza

November 11 onwards-WHERE do we start? HOW do we start again?

"It was a few days after when we were found by my other siblings. That was also when I found out that five members of our family didn't make it--my adoptive mother, my brother, his kind wife, and their two lovely daughters. Until now, I still don't know how to cope with that thought of losing five family members at the same time. Recalling the story of how they perished always breaks me down."

"Should we stay or should we leave? In my mind, I wanted to clean up the house, and just get on with our lives. It's hard to forget easily though. When I saw both rich and poor people standing in long queues just to get a kilo of rice, when we waited for the rain to fall just to get drinking water, when I see fear in the eyes of my hungry children, I knew I had to give up Tacloban, even for a while."

"A week after, with not enough relief goods and help reaching us, we decided to go to Cebu temporarily, to my in-laws' house. The security situation in Tacloban was not getting any better. We were hearing gun shots at night. We were hearing stories of escaped prisoners raping women. I had to save my four daughters and one son from this madness. Thank goodness for a friend in Cebu Pacific who was able to put us under its priority list. My kids went ahead of my husband and me. We followed them to Cebu two days later."

"While walking to the airport, we saw empty government cars and trucks passing us by. We tried to hitch a ride, but no one bothered to stop for us. I couldn't blame them, we were wearing damp, stinking clothes, and we might have looked like looters or opportunists to them. For more than an hour, with ill-fitting shoes punishing my every step, I mindlessly walked like a zombie. It may have slipped my mind at that time that our government had indeed abandoned us."

"We are now here in Cebu City, with a roof over our heads, and dry clothes on our backs. Still, our minds are gripped with fear and grief. My children still have nightmares. Our hearts mourn for our loved ones who passed away. But yes, we are going back to Tacloban--if not today, if not next week, maybe next month, I'm not yet sure when. As soon as peace and order and a sense of normalcy are established in the city, we are definitely going back. After all, Tacloban is and will always be my only home."

"Happier times with my Mommy and sister-in-law. 

Tacloban is and will always be my only home."                             Photo from MLTMendoza

           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~000~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Last Saturday, November 23, I met up with my friend to hand over to her our small financial help. My friend Maricon Libron-Giles and I rounded up a few of our Aboitiz friends and organized a fund drive on Facebook. (This is where FB really comes in handy!) After a week, we were able to gather some financial donation--not much, but it's good enough to push them up. When Mary Lot saw what her old friends have done for their family, she and her husband couldn't help but sob. I cried with them too.

Thanks to the following generous people who immediately responded to my call for help:

Alvin Arco, Melinda Bathan, Joy Paro, Lito Peroramas, Maricon Libron Giles, Brenda Lantaca, Carlos Payot , Herbert Cabatingan, Verti Bullecer, Gloria Rena, Becky Perez, Conching Cabiles, Ces Aboyme, Julie Ann Diongzon, Francis Cabanban, Jo Pabriga, Emma Bria, Viva Canares, Maritess Balbuena, Remy Salares, Eva Abellanosa, Jovy Tan, Theresa Gonzales, Ben Alvarez Montecillo (my sister), and SMA '84 (my high school batchmates).

You have made the burden of Mary Lot's family a little bit lighter. May God fill our homes with his blessings!

The Devastation that was Yolanda

I know that this is not my story to tell, but please let me say my piece anyway.

My family lives in Cebu, and I feel that everything that happened to Visayas was a hazy dream, er, nightmare. A 7.2 earthquake. Then a 315-kph super typhoon. I may not have been physically affected, but believe me, I feel traumatized. I shout every time I feel an aftershock (we still have those until now). I still cry when I see the images of Haiyan's aftermath.

But then again, this isn’t about me. It’s about the thousands of people whose lives were washed away by the storm surge. It’s about the tens of thousands who were left homeless and jobless. It’s about the hundreds of thousands whose properties vanished in just a few hours. 

Day 5. Tacloban City Convention Center. This was where the evacuees were housed.

Unfortunately, many perished here because the structure was adjacent to the bay.         Photo by IGCacnio

Day 4. Ormoc bus station. No buses to give exodus to the people.                      Photo by IGCacnio

Day 4. Ormoc. Even the Jollibee mascot doesn't want us to look in the eye.                        Photo by IGCacnio

Day 5. Tacloban. Heritage houses ruined.                                      Photo by IGCacnio

Day 5. Tacloban. Where would the children go?                             Photo by IGCacnio

But what I am really, deeply saddened is how millions of Filipinos are now divided as a nation. Yolanda has not only physically swept lives and homes and possessions; it has emotionally eroded our hearts and mentally cut through our psyche as well. We, Filipinos, have never been alienated to one another as much as like this.

Yes, what our fellow Filipinos experienced was unimaginable, unthinkable. A big part of our country was devastated, bulldozed by the wrath of high waves and strong winds and unrelenting rains of Yolanda. But what hurts me the most is the devastation that is still raking the hearts and minds of Filipinos. So much negativity. So much bad words hurled around. 

Day 5. Tacloban. Even funeral parlors are up to their necks.                           Photo by IGCacnio

Of course we need to criticize--I am not at all against this. But let us do this with the pure intention of helping to make relief efforts reach the victims faster, to give directions to those isolated places that seemed to have been neglected, to encourage those more fortunate Filipinos to help. More importantly, let’s criticize to inspire, to strengthen, to give hope.

Day 5. Tacloban. People scraping for gasoline in places where gas stations are left unsecured.      Photo by IGCacnio

I understand that we are frustrated; hell, we are furious. A week has already passed, and the victims are still left wanting. But what have some of us done on social media so far? We call for a People Power to oust the President. We name the holder of the highest office of the land as BS Aquino. We try to pit the INC against the Catholics. We make fun of  “It’s more fun in the Philippines” tag. We lambast our local media and call them stupid. We search for videos and comments of people who laugh at our misfortune. Tell me, please, if these have pushed our cause forward. If these comments have expedited relief efforts. If these judgments have buried the victims' loved ones. Instead of recovering from the rubbles, we dig ourselves more in self-pity and pessimism.  

Day 4. Palo, near Tacloban. The INC structure stands amid the debris nearby.            Photo by IGCacnio      

Day 4. A Town going to Tacloban. Child's play.                                                   Photo by IGCacnio

Day 4. Ormoc. Small roads are still impassable.                              Photo by IGCacnio

Day 5. Tacloban. Body bags are still on the sidewalk waiting to be identified, blessed, and buried.  Photo by IGCacnio

Day5. Tacloban. A stark contrast to behold indeed.                          Photo by IGCacnio

Day5 Ormoc. Piles of debris as far as the eye can see.                                Photo by IGCacnio

No amount of foul FB posts and livid tweets will help the Philippines stand up again. Let’s channel this anger that we feel into positive actions. Volunteer. Donate. Stay vigilant. Be informed. Most of us have done and are doing their share in their own quiet ways. But there are still a lot more Bayanihan spirit needed to give us back our dignity and to put us back on the map again.

As of Day 4 and 5, people are starting to pick up the pieces.

Day 4. Ormoc. People in a long line to buy food.                             Photo by IGCacnio

Day 4. Ormoc. Locals queue to buy gasoline.                                  Photo by IGCacnio

Day 5. Tacloban. Drying whatever was left of their clothes.                     Photo by IGCacnio

Day 5. Tacloban. The people are back on their feet.                        Photo by IGCacnio

Let’s ALL unite to make our country a beautiful place to live in again. I love the Philippines!

Day 5. Leaving Tacloban. Yes, we shall return!                                      Photo by IGCacnio

Note: The pictures shown here were those taken by the Hubby when he visited Ormoc (Day 4) and Tacloban (Day 5) on an official mission from his company. Just showing the facts as seen by an ordinary citizen.

Moevenpick or Mövenpick?

Gawrsh! (Issa hates this 'goofy" expression of mine!)

I never realized that it has been, what...exactly nine months since I have written here. I haven't had the right motivation nor enough time to write lately. Till now, I guess.

The kids were all present for the semestral break, and this was the only time we could have bonding moments with the family. To pry them away from the bed (kain/tulog lang kasi ang trabaho ng mga boys!), the hubby and I usually decide to have a get-away at a resort every time the kids are complete. One rule of the thumb: no laptops allowed on the trip (okay, except for Dad).

Cebu has numerous exquisite resorts one can choose from. This time, we opted to go to Movenpick Resort & Spa (or is it Moevenpick? or Mövenpick?) in Punta Engano, Mactan, Cebu.

I booked a Two-bedroom Suite because we cannot fit into one bedroom anymore. Never mind if the boys are still underage. You see, my kids are bigger, much bigger than I am, so they are definitely considered as adults, from the strict standard point of view of hotels.

I booked the suite room three days before October 31st, over the phone, and got a reference number at once. However, I got a little bit antsy because they never emailed me a confirmation. I was trying to call too, but their phone was down, so I was not sure whether my reservation was confirmed or not. Anyway, when I reached the hotel, my booking was there after all--thank God! I just wished they bothered to call me to confirm my reservation. Oh well!

Their lobby. You can easily see white as the dominant color all over the place. Makes the guests feel relaxed at once.

This was our view from Room 2101:

Amazing, right? It made us want to dive into it at once. But just looking at the people-less beach and poolside, we knew that it was wiser to wait it out for a shadier time.

In the mean time, let's look at our room. 

The living room/dining area. The Hubby just didn't get the ostrich-like lamp distracting the whole area. 

The Master's--a king-sized bed smacked in the middle of a platform  bed. My only beef was that the TV is at the left side near the door. The closet is in the middle.

The other room had only two single beds, so they added another bed in the living room. There were two bathrooms, with the master's bath having a nice tub. The color of the bathroom is just a bit too dreary and blue for me, although I would say the bathrooms smelled nice and looked clean.

And look, Ma! They have fancy toiletries for a giveaway! We got one for each bathroom.

If the boys would have it, they could stay in hotel rooms forever. But that was not the reason why we went to this resort in the first place, boys! So move it, and let's go to the beach!

The poolside. How come no one was swimming? Well, because it was freakin' cold, according to the kids. They should do somethin' about the pool's temperature.

Snack time. One doesn't think of the diet when on vacation.

Rare huggie moment with Luis.

A much rarer sweet moment. Ha ha!

Issa and I decided to explore the rest of the place, while waiting for the food to arrive.

Overlooking the gazebo.

Lots of seating installations going on. Luckily (or sadly for Movenpick), no people were sitting on them.

The beachfront with their residences towering behind.

The water may have been clear, but the sand was full of shells and stones that may hurt naked feet. I didn't have aqua shoes on, so I didn't continue walking barefoot.

Hey, is that a bar at the background?

It is, it is! Their Ibiza Bar.

Paupo na nga lang, since you know, I'm really a nerdy teetotaller.

They have this awesome hanging woven platform thingies where one can just lie down and chill.

Best time and place at the resort to let everything drop.

They also have this dipping pool in the middle of the bar.

Hmm..they have this resto too, but we didn't attempt to go inside. Baka mapa-order pa kami!

Nice secluded dining table near the resto for a big group to dine al fresco.

Da bes pren. A mother is the luckiest if she is considered as her daughter's best friend.

Luis followed us. Got to take a picture with him. Ang mahal nito!

My youngest in a pensive mood. Watcha lookin' at?

Oh, right. That glorious sunset!

The trick is a high waist shorts or skirt. Ha ha!

So this was worth P2,000+++??

No choice but to sign the bill.

Let me check out their spa....On the way, there were more white seats with ghosts seating on them....

Are you kidding me? Their 1 1/2 massage hour costs P5,000? Um, I don't have creaky bones na, thank you very much!

We played in their Game Room instead. At least, the use of it was for free. We had the room all to ourselves.

Movenpick at night.

We went out for dinner, as in out of the resort. There was this place just across from Movenpick where one could have proper dinner. There were Giussepe, an Italian restaurant, and Fat Lobster, a seafood restaurant. We chose the former.

It was funny because the Hubby was complaining about the Italian owner not going to our table, thinking that because we were Pinoys. There was a group of Italians beside us, who were waited on by the owner. Anyways, their food was delicious--their Pizza alla Gregorio was great, their Focaccia bread was perfect, their Bolognese was just right, and the roast pork was soft and heavenly. We also ordered nutella crepe for dessert. However, the crepe dessert came ahead of the roast pork, which was supposed to be the main dish. You know our family, once you serve the dish, it will be gone in a jiffy. When the Italian owner finally went up to our table to ask if we were satisfied with the food, I said that the cooking was superb, except that the roast pork came a little delayed. He offered to give us some gelatto on the house to make up for it, but we said we already had a crepe. He was aghast that the crepe was served ahead of the roast pork. He was so embarrassed that he scratched the crepe from our bill.  We had a similar experience at a Greek restaurant before, and they decided to give the dessert for free. I wish all restaurants were like these.

After dinner, we strolled back to the resort's Ibiza Bar to have a few drinks.

Yes, they are old-ish enough to have a bottle or two, as long as we are around. That's the limit, though, a bottle or two. A can of beer cost P350 kasi! Hehehehe! Total bill for these whole thing? P1,675! Suffice it to say that we never got drunk that night.

There was techno music, but no one was dancin'. 

The next day, we woke up to have buffet breakfast at their Sails Restaurant. Yummy food. Great service. And swam again in the freezing water to burn all those Eggs Benedict.

So long, Room 2101. Family bonding, it's a wrap!