September 26, 2009 began just like any other stormy day in the Philippines:— overcast skies, intermittent gusts of wind blowing from different directions, dark clouds ominously swirling into darker shades of gray. Weather bulletins, issued days before, had warned that the coming typhoon will be a “super typhoon”— a storm that could reach sustained wind speeds of more than 245 kph, & had given it the name “Ondoy” (known internationally as Ketsana). Everybody had been forewarned, but nobody expected it to dump a month’s worth of rain over Metro Manila in just six hours.
There was so much rainwater that, per news reports, the water level of the Marikina River rose to 23 meters above sea level, which was way above the 16-meter level that would have normally triggered a call for preventive evacuation of residents in the immediate area. In its wake, Ondoy left 464 people dead, 529 injured & 37 missing. Estimated damage to infrastructure was about P4.3B while damage to agriculture was an estimated P6.6B.
It was a Saturday & with a typhoon brewing my only concern is to make sure I will be dry & will have enough food to eat to ride out the storm. And then my phone rang… It was my brother-in-law— my elder sister’s husband, saying that they are on their way & they would want to have coffee with me. A thought ran into my mind, haven’t they heard about the coming typhoon? Maybe that was how us Filipinos in the Luzon island feel about typhoons— it’s just one of those things…
I was in what I call my “weekend attire”— walking shorts, ripped T-shirt (the same one I slept in the night before) & a pair of rubber slippers, when I came down to meet them. They came in a brand new Toyota Land Cruiser. We drove through Evangelista Street in the direction of EDSA. It was still early morning, maybe around 7:30am. It was just starting to rain, but rainwater on the streets was already ankle deep, which meant that it had already been raining in other parts of the metropolis. By the time we reached Pasay Rotunda the flood water level was already gutter deep. I stole a glance at my sister. She did not look worried or bothered at all. We were, after all, on a big SUV —more than capable of handling the flooded streets of Metro Manila. I sat back and relaxed.
We parked at the SM MOA and chilled out at Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf. We later learned that the mall would not open for business for the day because the weather had turned for the worst. We headed back to the Land Cruiser & were met with rainwater rushing down the ramps.
At the crossroads of EDSA & Roxas Boulevard we saw at least two stalled vehicles being swallowed up by flood waters. We could not cross over and so drove in the direction of Manila hoping to be able to pass through Vito Cruz Street. However, when we got there the streets were already submerged. We pivoted towards Quirino Avenue to get to Osmeña Highway and from there, hopefully, proceed South. We only managed to reach as far as Angel Linao Street. Estero de Paco had swelled & had inundated the small bridge over it. A stalled bus on the bridge was submerged up to its brake lights. My brother-in-law parked their Land Cruiser on a Shell gas station at the corner. The floodwater had reached up to the Land Cruiser’s door, a few centimeters more and the floodwater could seep into the cabin. We sat there until around 3am of the next day when the flood seemed to have receded enough for vehicles to pass through. We made our way to Osmeña Highway & crossed over the Buendia Overpass. Below the overpass is a lake that stretched to as far as Taft Avenue. My brother-in-law gunned for the SkyWay ramp. It was their ticket out to the South.
I got out at the foot of the Skyway ramp. The water was about half way up my knees but the situation around the crossroads of the Osmeña Highway and Pasay Road—where I need to pass, was neck deep. There was a stalled vehicle at the middle of it bobbing up & down like a rubber ducky on a bathtub. I figured I’d walked around the flooded area through an eskinita. As I took my first step into the floodwater I glanced unto a shop window & saw my reflection:— a man in walking shorts, T-shirt & rubber slippers... what would I have given for an umbrella, maybe a raincoat or maybe a pair of rain boots. The fear of being electrocuted suddenly gripped me which was, however, immediately taken over by the fear of rat piss.
I made my way to Hayes Street then to San Antonio Street. Walking in knee deep flood water is tricky at best. You’ll never know what you’ll step into next & each time you put your foot down creates a vacuum that makes the slipper stick to the ground. And that was how I snapped the strap off on my rubber slipper. Fortunately, a bunch of slippers had congregated on a canal drain. I pulled one out with my bare left foot & slipped it on. It was too small & it was for the right foot. It will do. I limped forward, turned left on Taylor Street and continued to walk in the direction of Pasay Road until I reached the San Ildefonso Parish Church.
The water is waist deep in all directions, but a few meters beyond the church grounds I could see that the water was only ankle deep. I got into a makeshift dingy pushed by enterprising young men who may have been the same people responsible for clogging up the canal drains to intentionally flood the streets so they could cash in on this “ferry service”. I got off as soon as we cleared the flooded portion and walked until I reached the corner and turned right to Evangelista Street which was also flooded ankle deep. I’m one corner away from the Osmeña Highway/Pasay Road crossroads and I could see that the area was still submerged in neck deep flood water
From the corner I walked six blocks in the direction of EDSA then turned right to Gen. Tinio Street, two more blocks & I was at the corner of P. Binay Street. From here, it was just a short walk across to D. Jorge Street, then a short bridge over an estero-- to cross over to Pasay City, then I’m home. But, to get there I have to cross P. Binay Street which had turned into the River Styx—a reduced witch’s brew of dead cockroaches, verminous garbage & other unidentifiable trash mixed in knee deep water. It stank and it looked nasty. No “ferry service” here. I weighed my options:— stand in the rain and wait for something good to happen or dip into the cold Leptospirosis soup.
