after tremors of the heart

Santa Rosario is a barangay (neighborhood) on the Island of Bohol, which has now been hit twice; first by an earthquake a month ago and now by the typhoon. I was fortunate enough to be welcomed into this community at a moment it was particularly vulnerable, during a stress debriefing session. The session, much like the disasters themselves, crossed generations and spanned human emotions.

A shy lady, reserved and holding onto her dignity shared the anguish of how a landslide swallowed her home. The stories she revealed described the centrality of her home to her relationship with her grandchildren. As I reflected on the universality of this concept, she continued to speak, resting her head on the shoulder of her neighbor. The heaviness of the memories could not be overcome by the weight of the mud.

That twinge of loneliness was palpable when an elderly gentleman, the wrinkles on his face nearly matching the years in his life, verbalized man’s greatest fear. No matter how proud he was of his children’s success and how he wished them fulfillment in life, when the walls around him shook, he was the only one within them.

With tremendous passion, a young woman reflected on how the community as a whole achieved some sense of happiness through the power of sharing. By opening their fresh wounds together, it allowed them to start the process of healing together. Through this they will be stronger however uncertain future.

The respected barangay captain struggled as she looked at her fractured home and the tent that had replaced it. She is trying to hold it together and be strong for her family and community but even in the saturating rain I could see a tear no one else could escape her eyes.

And a man clutched his heart as he described the anticipation of ongoing aftershocks that accompany an earthquake like a shadow even at night. It seems long after the final aftershock, the after tremors of the heart will remain.

Changing Treescapes

Driving north from Cebu city towards Bogo, the treescape began to change. Here was a world turned upside down. Roots reached for the skies while branches were smashed towards the ground. Electricity cables that once lined the clouds now hem the earth precariously. Some people were on the streets clearing the debris, others sat looking emptily at the shells of their former homes, all trying to make sense of a world after a storm.

As we drove on the main street of Bogo you could see the Israeli flag adorning the hospital’s entrance. A young solider stopped our van to question us. Mike, the disaster management consultant in our team, answered in Hebrew and the solider broke out into the biggest grin and welcomed us in with true Israeli hospitality. Mike’s smile responded accordingly. It was heartwarming to see how proud Mike was. He was proud that his country gives of itself so selflessly and does so so quickly.  He was greeting each soldier like they were his best friends he hadn’t seen in years. It was hard not to feel proud and smile too.

There we met various young Filipinos making a difference. One group is a few friends who in the wake of the typhoon pooled their resources and energy together and set in motion a relief and rebuilding effort for the islands they call home. Another was a group of therapists and educators dedicated to community-based rehabilitation of children with disabilities, children who need additional emotional support through trying times like these.

These groups joined us on a tour of the hospital.  The field hospital is very impressive. A series of tents line the front garden of the pre existing hospital. Within it is fully functioning with operating rooms, X-ray machine and a laboratory. The doctors across all discipline serve hundreds of patients each day and treat each with the utmost dignity. Whilst it initially came to life to treat typhoon survivors, it now continues to look after patients. No case is too difficult, no challenge insurmountable. The first baby born there was named ‘Israel’ by his appreciative parents, fitting for a child representing a nation wrestling with its recovery.

The next day we visited schools in Daan Bantayan and Bogo. All three schools suffered considerable damage with roofs and classrooms blown away by the satanic winds. It was a chance to meet the teachers and children at the face of a storm. Somewhat surprisingly, the kids, with roofs and debris and fallen trees surrounding them, still manage to laugh and play and just be kids. Their smiles act as reminders of the resilience of the Filipino people.

We were also able to deliver first aid stocks to the local ambulance service. Various pharmaceutical manufacturers in Melbourne donated all this stock. I was amazed that when I called someone from customer service at one of the companies she said to me, “Leave it to me, I’ll get it organized for you.” An afternoon later she called me back with a list of places that had boxes ready for collection. Those supplies now fill the shelves of an ambulance that was completely empty.

I explained to the ambulance drivers where the supplies had come from. Their reaction showed they were clearly moved, “People from all over the world care.”

“They do,” I responded, “We do.”  And in that moment the world made just a little more sense.

a spirit of volunteerism

The National Resource Operations Center in Manila coordinates the collection and distribution of food and supplies to typhoon affected areas. As we visited the Center and walked around we were overwhelmed by a very special energy.

We met with Elma, a technical officer, who described the dire situation on her home island of Bohol, Only last month an earthquake struck and now it is also dealing with the strong winds and storm surges of the typhoon. As we met, the office around us was extremely active, updating information boards, coordinating with their regional offices and instructing volunteers.

The strongest feeling was that of the spirit of volunteerism. Filipinos from all walks of life come to the Center each day to help. The military are there twenty-four hours. School and university students help in droves, with teachers replacing regular classes with lessons of another kind.  A few foreigners were there too, some taking time from their holidays and others coming to the Philippines specifically to help. Many local businesses display a sense of corporate responsibility in sending their employers to the Center to help instead of their regular duties. For them a deeper sense of duty takes precedent.

We helped for a short time, packing and carrying supplies. The Filipinos around us were extremely touched and appreciative. They were moved by the fact that a team cares enough to come so far to help. For us it is the same deep sense of duty that compels our presence here.