Moving forward after Haiyan

MANILA, Philippines – On November 8, 2013, the strongest typhoon to ever make landfall ripped across the central part of the Philippines. As it tore its way across the country, the world waited in suspense, fearing the worst. For the people who lived it, it was worse than anything they had ever imagined. It destroyed roads, buildings, and lives. It brought whole cities down to their knees and people to the edge of sanity and back.

Six months passed. Survivors mourned and slowly picked up the scattered pieces of their lives again. The cities gradually took shape again. Debris was cleared, the mangled cars, knotted telephone wires and dead bodies were removed from every nook and cranny of the city.

Businesses began to open. A new coffee shop down the corner, the Philippines favorite Jollibee branch, the indoor rock climbing shop. The cities and towns started to take on a normal semblance again.

From the ashes of destruction, there were some survivors who looked around at what they had. Thankful for their lives, they powered on, past the wall of grief they felt over lost loved ones and past the complete destruction of their house and livelihoods. These are their stories.

Ken Nodado, 22, Tricycle driver

When Ken heard there was going to be a storm, he took his wife and 4-year-old child to the evacuation center with the rest of his barangay. It was a good decision because when he came back the next day, there were 3 cargo ships grounded on land where his house used to be.

“When the rain stopped we didn’t expect our area to look like this. I was going to check on our house. When I checked there were two ships already on it.”

His first instinct was to find food. He retrieved floating bottles of water from among the dead bodies, he went into town and joined the throngs of looters to grab whatever edible thing he could. “We just started thinking about what we could eat because we didn’t save food before the storm.”

His house and livelihood was crushed under a boat, but at least he had his family. “It’s the kind of fear that makes you really weak because you see everything around you and it’s destroyed, you don’t know how to start again.”

In the weeks following the storm, Ken along with the rest of the village tried to carry on, surviving the best way they could. They went back to living in the evacuation center taking turns to guard the area at night.

“During that time around one week after the storm there were rumors that were spreading that there were NPA members that went down from the mountains and that the Badjao were breaking into the houses to get food. That’s when I made the decision to go to Manila because I was scared of what could happen.”

Ken left for Manila with his family. When he got there, he was showered with food, clothing and toiletries. He almost forgot about his city that lay in ruins beside the shore. Ken received P10,000 in donations from his friends and relatives. With the donations he bought 10 cellphones to sell in Tacloban for 3 times the price he bought them for in Manila.

“When I went back I left my family in Manila. Every day I was selling from 9 am to 5 pm. I kept buying more and more cell phones until we were able to save P90,000,” he narrated.

Once he had saved enough, he used the money to buy a tricycle. “Now it’s the tricycle that helps us get our daily food.”

Now Ken still lives in the same barangay, only a few feet away from where his house used to be. The ships are still there, a haunting memory of the storm that took everything. Every day he works, slowly building up enough savings to refurnish his house, buy new clothes and food.

“In my opinion we should stop waiting for help from other people because we don’t know how long help will be given. We should start thinking of a plan on how we can live day to day. The help we are getting now can disappear anytime, but if you think of a really good plan or business, you can be successful for the rest of your life.”

Martina Rayna, 57, organic farmer

Martina Rayna had heard there was a typhoon coming. Strongest ever, they said. She gathered her family – her two grandchildren, mother and husband, into the living room – in the morning of November 8 to pray.

Outside, the rain started to pour and suddenly the water began to rise. “Around 7, someone said, ‘Martina it’s flooding! The water is rising! Everyone go out and everyone go to the back.’ Because we have a two-story house at the back as a quarter for my workers.”

The family scattered. Martina ran with her grandchild to find her slippers before taking refuge on the second floor of the building behind the house. Within seconds they were trapped. Water kept rising until they were floating on top with about a foot of space to breathe between the water level and the roof. They tried and failed to open the door, which had been slammed shut from the water pressure.

“When the water was already up to my neck and my granddaughter was on top of my shoulder, I said, ‘Lord, if you’re going to get me I offer my life.’”

Eventually, one of her workers had managed to break into the room and just as the water levels were nearing the roof, brought the two individually to safety.

“When I was able to hear the crying of the members of my family saying, ‘Thank you Lord, mommy is here. We are all accounted. That was the time I awaked myself. I’m alive,” she recalled.

As morning dawned over a destroyed city, Martina looked around to see her neighborhood in rubble. Some households, like hers, were lucky with all the members surviving. Some were not and lost everyone in the house. Most of the people who died had been trapped in their own houses, prevented from getting out from the water pressure pressing the door shut.

Her organic farm, and restaurants, something she had built up for the last 30 years had been completely destroyed. Major parts of her house were damaged and, in the days following the typhoon, her businesses were looted.

But when she felt her heart continue to beat and she saw her whole family in front of her still alive, she thanked God.

“I have sad emotions about why my house was broken, why for 37 years from every material thing that I had there was not even one button left. But at the back of my mind there was an emotion of challenge for me. The mere fact that I didn’t die there was something more that I wanted to do.”

A burst of adrenalin filled her lungs, heart and limbs. She knew she had to do something to help the others around her. Her workers lost everything; members of their family, their houses and their belongings.

“My adrenalin after the typhoon was very high. I could even hold a big dead body in my arms to put it on the side of the road so people could help me wrap it.”

She walked the 4-kilometer distance between her house and the farm several times a day scavenging whatever she could from the ruins. Martina dug up all the vegetables that survived the typhoon to use for food to feed her family and employees, she found a generator that was still useable and a golf cart that miraculously still functioned.

She set about cleaning her house, scrubbing it inside and out, and making it livable again Once that was done, she welcomed in paying guests – journalists who needed accommodation after most of the hotels were destroyed.

“Someone knocked at our door. A couple and 4 boys asked us if we could accommodate them because there were no hotels. After 7 days the gave us money, P1,500 a day. I said I have to accept this because I need this money for my people. They need their houses to be rebuilt. They need food to eat. They need clothes to wear.” 

“We have 32 employees, 28 of them have families. They were able to buy materials for their houses and they were able to put up their own houses.” Martina saw the needs and she filled them.

Her guests wanted to eat. They managed to buy meat, which was flown in from Manila. Martina employed her chef to cook and sell barbecue. She used her generator to freeze ice, which she sold. She then became the first distributor of Selecta ice cream in the town, selling the ice cream to queues of people. She accepted the laundry of NGOs employing more people to help wash.

When she had the time, Martina worked on her organic farm. She replanted the crops and the fruit trees. Now she is able to sell her organic herbs, cucumber, kangkong, okra and lettuce. The fruit trees will take another 5 years but they’re in repair.

All of these generated jobs for her employees.  “We really have to survive and to survive is to work but you cannot work if you will not believe that all these things come from this.”

Jaime Bontoc, 60, diver

Jaime Bontoc remembers the day the typhoon hit. It’s difficult to forget. Within a span of hours, he lost 14 members of his family.

“I dream that my family is still here. My grandchildren are sweet. When they would come home from school and have stars on their papers they’d ask for one peso.”

Jaime lived with his wife, children, and grandchildren in a barangay located close to the waters. On the night of the storm, he asked his family to transfer to another house over the road. He chose not to leave his house to guard it against looters but he eventually came back to the house his family was staying in because his wife was crying and asking for him.

When the storm surge hit, everything happened in an instant. He didn’t have time to think.

“Our house just collapsed when the big waves came in. I told my wife, ‘The kids!’ and then I got stuck under the water.  I untangled myself from the rubble. W hen I came up there was no one there, just water. Then I screamed, ‘Where are you? Where are you?’ Wood kept falling on me. I kept swimming and it seemed like I was going around in circles.”

When he woke up, he had no idea what had happened. A friend was there, offering to take him to the hospital. When he asked about his family, his friend told him everyone was ok. He later found out that his friend was just trying to protect him.

Now it’s just him and his son in the house. His son sleeps late and gambles into the night. He wanders around listlessly still in a state of disbelief. Jaime sometimes goes down to where they keep their pigs to cry. His son often finds him there with his head in his hands. They sit at home and tell stories, which often just leads to both of them crying in shared grief.

“It’s hard to lose your family. I remember my family sometimes. I do get drunk just to sleep.”

In this fog of grief, Jaime finds himself going to church more and more. It’s his place of serenity and solitude. It’s a place where he can talk to God, ask him to take care of his family. It’s a place where he can see his friends and find comfort in their support.

“When I go to Mass my head is clear. I’m happy when I go to Mass because I see my friends also. There’s a lot of people who tell me, just let it go, it happened already. I always go to Mass to ask God to help them. Wherever they are, I leave them up to you.”

Jaime looks to give his support as well. He gives speeches during Mass about his loss, hoping that by telling his story he can help other people who are grieving as well.

He still goes out to sea with his fishermen friends, they share jokes, point to each other where the best catch is. He tries to move on in life and survive.

“I think I didn’t die so I could help my friends who I go out to sea with. I can help them because I’m still around them. I could teach them because we’re still all together. When we all go to sea I can show them where the best catch is.” – Rappler.com