Survivor: PAC Extreme Ondoy Edition

"Kuya Worthy, tingnan mo, may tumutulo na!" Isay (Atheena Aguilar) pointed to the ceiling from our post at the church's computer. It was the middle of the single communion divine service where Pastor Nepomuceno, the speaker has just begun his sermon. It has been raining since 7 or 8 in the morning.

I immediately looked up to where she was pointing. From our vantage point, I could only look  across towards our Sabbath School Class, Class 7.

That would be impossible, the ceiling has been repaired during the summer, I thought. Yet before I could point that out to her, what we saw was not a dripping ceiling. The ceiling was shimmering.

"Parang swimming pool!" Isay gaped. True enough, on the white ceiling of Pasay Adventist Church was no water stain from a broken roof or ceiling. It was the reflection of water as you would look at a swimming pool. At that moment, I noticed the deacons who closed the side door shut. I looked at the other side door, some deacons were also doing the same. Before I could even ask a question to anyone, my eyes strayed at the floor on the aisle. Something clear and liquid was quickly moving towards the pulpit of the church.

"Kuya bilis, itaas natin ito!" My partner was pointing to the huge UPS that we once used. I quickly grabbed the heavy device with two hands and placed it near the organ. Soon enough, deacons, deaconesses and some of those seated in front were helping out raising the basins for the footwashing on the stairs of the pulpit. Everyone was in distress. Those who were on wheelchairs were already wet.

Outside the anteroom, Pastor Aser Bacdayan saw the flood. Running out in the rain, he immediately removed the covers on the newly constructed drainage system. However, a few minutes later, the drainage gave up.

Inside the church, the water kept rising. The people were confused as to where to go or what to do. Others remained still realizing that nothing would stop the water from entering cracks of the side doors. Later on, I noticed that the side doors were not the only sources of water, bubbles seemed to come out from the floor itself. Small bubbles but it was clear enought that water from somewhere underground, most likely the sewages under the ground, were seeping up. Thus from the toe deep water, the flood rose to the ankles and finally to the calves. At the end of the day, the flood reached the knees.

Pastor Nepumuceno was forced to cut his sermon and move on to the communion service. "For forty years of serving as a Pastor, this is a first time," he said. The solemnity broken by the sudden rush of water, we continued with the foot washing and the partaking of the bread and wine. Most of the people who initially didn't want to partake in the traditions could do nothing but stay at the lobby. Most of them could not go out even with their umbrellas. The water outside the chuch has reached the thighs.

Some of the solemn air still lingered but you could still feel the tension. You could still feel the fear and anxiety the flood has caused. This was the first time for Pasay Adventist Church to experience a flood within the chuch like this one.

I reached my grandfather during the footwashing. He was my partner by default. As I was washing his feet, he suddenly stood up and decided to go to the CR. I panicked since the side doors were closed and the front entrance was already crowded. We went to the front entrance to see if we could squeeze through amidst the people trying to save their skins from the storm's lashings. But it was to no avail, we still had to go up the already wet pulpit and go out the side door of the ante room. That was how I was able to spend the rest of the communion service on the ante room. My grandfather, after going to the CR was ordered to stay in the ante room for the remaining of the service. Understandably, the flooded floors would be bad for him at his age and state. So I had to stay with him through out the service.

Apparently, we weren't alone, the Aguilar Family as well as Pastor Aser was there too. It was then that I learned that the problem was not with the PAC's drainage system, nor was it due to the construction going on. The real problem was that there was just too much water. It has been raining since the Friday night so most likely the water would over flow. It was, then, an obvious decision that all activities in the afternoon, even the meetings, until the next day were cancelled. Everyone most likely would agree to that.

The moment the communion service ended, more chaos erupted. A lot of people were already hurrying to the front doors to get out of the storm. Most rushed on and tried to beat the flooded streets which was already knee deep. News reached us that all vehicles along buendia were not moving at all. I personally witnessed these vehicles in the afternoon.

As other people tried to push their way out of the church, some were trying to find places to spend the rest of the afternoon. Most of those people tried to stay on the pulpit. It was a good thing that we brought lunches. We shared our lunch with the Rapi Family, Ate Joy, Ate Cor, Pastor Aser and whoever else who would pop up. At the same time, the U Room also opened its doors with its regular lunches as well as the PAC Choir at the YM/Echo Room who were scheduled to have a potluck lunch (we stayed in the ante room).

Not everyone were able to go out of the church after all. After our lunch a lot of people were still by the front doors. Most of them were surely hungry, it was a blessing that all the activities in the afternoon were cancelled, the food for the Angels' Echo practices were distributed to those at the front doors. For others who were not able to eat at all, we tried to get the food from both the URoom and the PAC Choir to see to their needs.

As time wore on, staying on the pulpit seemed endless, I tried to see who were still at the front doors. There were at least 50 more people on the front doors. While walking around the lobby, a sister halted me and asked me for a great favor. She asked me to help them carry her husband who was on a wheel chair to the Buendia area where the flood was not as worse as along Donada.

I felt I had no choice. Fortunately I was wearing shorts and a t.shirt underneath my Sabbath clothes. I immediately removed my pants as well as my shirt and braced myself for the work to be done.

As I stepped on what was once the front steps of the church, I remembered that I was barefoot. I left my shoes the moment the flood kicked in the church. The whole time, I was walking around barefooted and now I was about to go to Buendia with all the flood. I silently breathed a prayer for safety for all of us. The flood with all its dirt and grime was no problem, I was more concerned of getting injured in such a situation, especially since first aid kits were not available at the moment. An injury would be a grave blow to any chance of surviving the flood.

As I said before, the Sabbath was a blessing. We were already past the church gates and nearing the Buendia when we saw some of the boys from NPUM pushing a cart with chairs. They were the ones who led the passage through the flood for the other brethren and it was all for free. We quickly loaded the old brother to the cart. From there I caught a glimpse of the Buendia that wasn't moving at all. All time seemed to have stopped at that point. Nothing was moving on both lanes.

The blessing kept on coming, I made it from Buendia back to church on my own without any scratches. Later on, I found myself running errands to and fro while watching over my grandfather who kept on insisting that he would go against the waters even with his condition. Several times until the evening we have been trying to stop him.

All this time, the lights on the pulpit were on. Steadily we noticed that the water within the church was slowly rising. The computer, that we couldn't save, was already drenched and the plug was centimeters away from getting wet. Someone complained that the water felt like electrically grounded. In an instant, the combined efforts of Bro. Ariel and Bro. Nilo to shut all the power in the church prevented the water from turning into a death pool.

By mid afternoon, a prayer was called on all those who were staying at the pulpit. We had no news of anything happening outside except on the fact that MAMC was also knee deep. I was worried at that time since the Deaf Ministry decided to transfer there. I guess they had an adventure on their own.

We were all hungry. It was already 4pm. We were just sitting around. Others including Ate Cor and Ate Joy all managed to hitch a ride on a side car back to their respective homes (Ate Joy decided to stay with Ate Cor). So those of us left at the ante room, waited for whatever might happen. Manna fell from the sky. At the door of the ante room, Bro. Sam Antonio appeared bringing food for those who were stranded. So it was back to distributing all the food to those on the front doors. It felt like the journey from the pulpit to the front door was a thousand miles.

After the distribution, I was wasted. I was tired. I managed to sleep for an hour at least at the lower pulpit.

When I woke up, it became darker. It was nearly dusk.

We were getting agitated. If we chose to stay here, the church will be all dark, since we can't risk turning on the power for fear of power shortages. But if we chose to move out, where are we going?

The answer was again provided. All of a sudden, Sis. Lyn Dilag appeared. We actually thought that the Dilags have already left sometime ago. In fact, they were staying at the Pasay City Academy. One of the rooms was opened up by the Principal as she too was stranded. Ate Lyn told everyone to go to the Elementary rooms. It was not flooded and food was also being prepared. It was a an answer to our prayers.

By nightfall, there were at least 50 people occupying the Kinder, Grade II and Grade I rooms of the elementary. 10 others decided to stay at the church, including Bro. Ariel and his kids. We brought them food that night. So in all, give or take, we were 60 people stranded.

Yet it never seemed to be a desperate condition at all. During dinner, we seemed to be partying. Food was over flowing in variety and quantity. Everyone was able to stuff their bellies full of food. Brethren from Leveriza who were least affected helped out. Special thanks to Bro. Sam Antonio and Kuya Henry.

We spent the night at the Elementary School. Mats were brought out and distributed to each room by Mrs. Tecson, the elem principal. It was like a sleep over party in that we were able to use the room's aircon. Yet sleep was a struggle considering what lies ahead of us.

By midnight, my parents frequently went out during the night to see if there was any improvement in the traffic. I managed to sleep for a few hours until my Mom woke all of us up and told us that things have improved. The traffic was somehow moving again along buendia, although the areas of Dian, Batangas and Filmore are still knee high. The time then was 5:00am.

By 6am, most of us were ready to go home, at long last.

The aftermath revealed that the storm Ondoy has given the Philippines 341mm rainfall. It topped the highest charted, 334mm, since 1967. A lot of people lost their homes and a lot of people died.

Comparing Notes Poll

I really don't know if this is something to laugh about or be a shamed of...

My sister had this project about conducting a mock survey in our neighborhood regarding the barangay's activities. It was one of those "thesis preparation projects" that would prepare any college student to the real deal. (However, I dare not tell my own story about that, it's just too bloody!)

After sweating through the paper works and brain storming, my sister finally got the questionnaires out. She asked help from our neighbors to distribute the questionnaires since she had school and a part time job to mind. The plan was that at the end of the day, she would go around on her way home to collect all the data she has gathered.

On one of her trips back, she found a very funny sight. Our neighbors were clumped together in front of their compound, most of them were answering the survey. My sister noted that one of the well known old men in our neighborhood was peeking at another person's survey answers. Apparently he was copying it down to the very last letter. In fact, it became more obvious when my sister collected the papers and saw under the heading of SEX/GENDER, he put in F.

Talk about copying - even on a mock poll? Some people just can't shake that habit.

NFS MAKATI

I couldn't believe that I could still be alive to write this post. No kidding. A few minutes ago before settling myself in front of the computer, I have seen the streets of Makati turn into a racing circuit. The rush could have been exhilarating had it not been for the commuters and regular vehicles that were nearly razed by the jeepney I rode today.

I was on my way home from work. I was asked to stop by from a nearby mall. It took me until closing time to get everything I needed to buy plus other items that I found (mostly food). I took the usual MRT to the jeepney terminal that goes straight to our street. It took a while to fill the jeepney. I dozed off for a while. When I woke up to move for some passengers, I kept on hearing the driver ranting about something. Apparently, he seemed to rant the rest of the trip about trifles like asking the passengers to move over.

When the driver revved up his engine, I noticed that he seemed to enjoy the brusque way it made a noise. I guess he was ignorant of the fact that this was manila and it was pointless to rev up your engines that loud.

As expected he turned up his sounds to the extreme before cruising away towards hell. His sounds, still as expected, were heavy metal sounds or rap mixes reminiscent of need for speed - not. I didn't know whether to laugh or to smirk at his unusual taste. They were somewhat weird - soundlike homemade novelty crossed between kundiman and dance hits. I really have no idea where to put his genre, but it sure was not for racing around a race track. It would have really been better if they were the novelty songs frequently repeated on the radio. Apparently, his music from his mp3 player were only hits whenever you got to drunk or to stoned to notice. It was a real bummer my MP4 player ran out of juice. I would have plugged in my headset to block out his weird music.

As the music started, the dreadful began. I'm sure this man was crazy.  He was oblivious to the double parked cars and what not that made the jeepney a perfect fit on the road. As he turned towards the main road, curse after curse followed every vehicle that passed the intersection. Every moment or so, the driver would rev up his engines as if gassing up for another lap.

I wanted to blurt out "Manong! Ayaw pa naming mamatay!!!" but I thought better of it. My voice would either be drowned out by his music or by his engine. Whenever a passenger would ask him to pull over, they would instantly find themselves a two blocks from where they intended to go. The driver was too busy cursing and swerving and overtaking slow moving vehicles to notice that he had passengers who were holding on for dear life. Maybe, he was even busy tapping or humming to the tune of his his homemade hits.

Another thought that occured to me would be to go down the moment another passenger asked him to pull over, but the stops were so abrupt that vehicles behind us nearly collided with the jeepney. I would still be a goner once I tried to get out.  Maybe this driver was thinking that the horns and honks behind him were from fans who were cheering him on his race to death.

A few minutes later (he probably reduced the 20-30 minute drive from the MRT to 15 minutes), I noticed that he was nearing the sidewalk. There, I immediately shouted for him to pull over. It only took one shout, but the stop was abrupt it nearly threw me into the lady sitting beside me (I should have thrown myself sooner though, she was hot!!  ). I guess I was lucky. The area was exactly my stop. The moment I got out, he zoomed away towards the intersection. I think he nearly slammed into a taxi, but I hope not.

MORAL: Never drive like an NFS driver when you're in Makati. Not that it's not safe, its just plain stupid!