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Amid 'The Great Flood,' the kindness of strangers


The genius Isaac Newton was more than correct when he posited: for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. This was true, even, when what we can now consider “The Great Flood" of Luzon rampaged through the country’s National Capital Region and the neighboring provinces of Rizal, Laguna, and Cavite.

A multitude of flood victims were stranded, driven out of their homes or trapped in them. But in a robust reaction, countless other people rose to the occasion and tried to save lives and shelter the lost and helpless, like me.

Drive-in

It was already rainy last Saturday morning as I was commuting from my house in Marikina to cover an event at the University of the Philippines Diliman in Quezon City. But while along Katipunan Avenue, I ran into snail-paced traffic in front of the Ateneo de Manila University caused by a flooded portion of the thoroughfare.

After accepting the fact that I could not reach UP on time, I decided to brave the rains and head back to our place and just work from home. But when I reached Aurora Boulevard for my expected ride back to Marikina, the sorry sight that greeted me were stranded commuters already filling up the street.

As I was about to take the last option of just walking my way home, a blue pickup suddenly pulled over. The helpful driver offered me and other stranded commuters a free ride back to Marikina.

Thanking Mang Carlito, the driver, we hopped in and got going. But as we neared the Marikina River, traffic had built up after scores of vehicles apparently choked up the Marikina Bridge in the rush to get across.

We had no choice but to go all the way back to Katipunan and seek another route to Marikina. Mang Carlito figured that we could reach the city proper via the bridge across Tumana River. But the river would have dangerously swelled by that time. So we were left with no other option but to take the Marcos Highway route.

From the highway, we inched our way through the narrow streets of a neighborhood in San Roque Village near the southern edge of the city. We soon got stuck in snarled traffic, the floodwaters slowly rising around us.

To plod through water or not

As we waited patiently for the traffic to move, one of our co-passengers read out a text message that sent her into panic: “Ma, ang taas na ng tubig sa bahay. Tumawag na kayo ng rescue (Ma, the water is getting too high. Please call for rescue now)."

The text she read out were from her kids, who were alone in their house in San Mateo, Rizal – another badly-flooded area.

“Kuya, bababa na ako. Hindi ko na ‘to kaya. Nakatigil tayo dito habang ang mga anak ko nandun sa bahay (Sir, I have to get off now. I can no longer stand it, stuck here while my kids are alone in the house)," the woman exclaimed as she reached for the van’s door.

But seeing as the flood water outside the van was waist-high, her companions stopped her and tried to calm her. “Mas delikado kapag bumaba tayo dito. Lumaki na ang tubig, paano kung mahulog ka pa sa manhole (It’s more dangerous if we get off here. The water’s swollen, what if you fall into a manhole)?" another woman said.

The distressed mother returned to her seat. As we continued to wait in standstill traffic, she took out a rosary and began reciting a prayer.

After a few more minutes, flood water began to seep into the van. All of us, including the driver, had to get out of the vehicle. We saw that other motorists and passengers were doing the same, stepping into the flood and leaving their prized cars behind.

We started our long march through the floods, with the dawning realization that we were still a few kilometers away from our destination – the city proper.

Struggling through the flood, we saw surreal images swirl around us: Motorcycle drivers fighting the current to save their only means of transportation. A young mother with an umbrella in one hand, and clutching her son in the other. A group of middle-aged women carefully wading in the water, hand in hand.

As for myself, I waded briskly but with caution, staying in the middle of the road and off the sidewalks. “Sa kalsada siguradong walang butas, sa gilid baka meron. Sa gilid baka meron," I repeatedly uttered like a mantra. It was a lesson I learned from my parents as a child, about sidewalks being more likely to have open manholes.

Refuge

It was already 2 p.m. The rains simply wouldn’t stop. The flood was rising much faster, my plodding through it more perilous. But worse, I was lost. San Roque was a corner of Marikina I had never been to.

And so I approached the very first resident I saw – a woman gleefully taking photos outside their house and, curiously, amused at the raging flood waters.
“Saan po ba ang papunta sa bayan (Where’s the way to the city proper)?" I hesitantly asked her. I was asking for directions in my own home city! I couldn’t believe it.

“Ah, doon po ang papunta sa bayan. Pero naku, mas malalim daw po ang tubig doon," cautioned the woman, who gave her name as Cindy Lazaro – a 36-year-old mother.

I was unprepared for her next words: “Halika. Pumasok po muna kayo dito sa amin. Kain muna… Kung tumaas pa itong tubig, dito na muna kayo matulog sa amin." (Please come inside our place. Have something to eat. If the water continues to rise, you can sleep here for the night.) It was a line straight out of a dramatic film. Here was a woman who was willing to offer her home to a total stranger like me. Technically, I was being rescued.

It was a line straight out of a dramatic film. Here was a woman who was willing to offer her home to a total stranger like me. Technically, I was being rescued.

Humbled by the gesture, I obliged and went inside their two-story house. We ate lunch and Cindy offered her brother’s clean clothes for me to wear. Afterwards, we started moving appliances from the first floor to the second floor. We took everything we could carry: TV sets, microwave oven, groceries, gas stove, cooking gas tank.

As for the refrigerator and sofa set, we simply gave up. They were too heavy to be carried up. Later, we would find both as flotsam in muddy flood water that had breached the ground floor.

We went up to the second-floor terrace and, from there, watched as more stranded people battled the raging waters that now ruled the streets. At one point, we heard loud screams as three people were swept away by the strong current. We never found out what happened to them.

From afar, we spotted a little girl desperately hanging onto his father, her arms around his neck. Cindy called to them, signaling for them to come over. She waded across the flooded first floor and rushed to open the gate for Dinio and his daughter. The second batch of rescued victims entered Cindy’s abode.

When night fell, over dinner, we shared both sinigang and accounts of "The Flood" – both horrific and heroic – like we were old friends exchanging stories.

“I’m 36 now, and it has never flooded like this in our street. At first I was amused by it all, taking photos of flood scenes. But when the water crept into our house, I realized this is something grim," Cindy said. It was a stark confirmation of what authorities would later say was the worst flooding in Metro Manila in decades.

At around 10 p.m. the rains stopped. All that could be heard was the car alarm from Cindy’s half-submerged vehicle in the garage. We could not turn off the alarm because her car keys were missing.

We were all asleep by midnight.

The morning after The morning after, we woke up to a bright sunny sky. The floods had finally subsided, leaving the houses and streets in total disarray: topsy-turvy cars that had crashed into each other, mud-coated sofa seats, ruined washing machines.

But the worst feeling was to see residents with that unforgettable look in their faces: a mixture of horror and anguish. One woman, who was trapped in her workplace the entire night, rushed from the street to their house where she had left her one-month-old baby the day before.

As I returned to my family’s warm embrace, I thought about all the Cindys... of the world. All of them, in their countless numbers, who were more than willing to go out of their way and extend a helping hand.

We wanted to help every distraught victim we met. But we realized that we too – including Cindy herself – were victims, waiting to be rescued.

At that point, I realized too that my cell phone was turned off the whole time. My family had probably gone without sleep all night, desperately waiting for my call if not arrival.

I bid Cindy and all the other accidental occupants of the house, telling them I would forever be grateful for their noble deeds. Dinio kindly offered me a ride back home.

And so, as I returned to my family’s warm embrace, I thought about all the Cindys, all the Dinios, all the Mang Carlitos of the world. All of them, in their countless numbers, who were more than willing to go out of their way and extend a helping hand. Even the woman co-passenger who left the van because she was rightfully worried about her children.

That day, I had one thought for all the brave men and women who risked their lives for others in that great flood. That for each of their noble actions, there would be an equally noble reaction. For each of them, I hope Newton’s law will forever hold true. - GMANews.TV

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