The New Perspective

I’ve read somewhere that we cannot control the evil tongues of others, but a GOOD LIFE will enable us to disregard them. This mantra rings true, especially at times like these when I have broken free of what used to drench me and knock me down.

Hence, the new perspective. The new looking glass.



A certain date is approaching real fast, and it usually sends me spinning in a pensive and introspective mood (a soliloquy of the non-verbal kind). What have I become at this point in time? Excuse my being self-anointing but the answer to that question is definitely...BETTER.

Lately, I surprise even myself. How I handle certain situations and certain people. Yes, there are still the hissy fits and adult tantrums but only when the situation really calls for it.

I don’t sweat the small and non-existent stuff as much. Yes, even what other people think (especially people who don’t even deserve my two cents). Love me or hate me, I’ll live. I’ve also learned to respect (and shake-off) other people’s nuances and idiosyncrasies (the politically correct term for mood swings).

Just this week, I came face-to-face with one of the sources of my stress some eons ago. And though she was poised to spit on my face (literally, of course), I held my ground and kept it cool. James Dean cool. My lips formed an empty smile, out of courtesy. She meant to disarm me but her “game” vaporized before it can even graze my skin. I am THAT invincible.

In parallel, my friend D blogged about half-wits who leave nasty and pointless comments on his blog. I know the feeling. Some people have a way of imposing their opinions on others. They use the freedom of speech as a license to make a fool of themselves. I told D to chill, they just want pieces of him (maybe that PJ collection) or wants to be him.

As I am rebuilding my urbanized life after Ondoy washed away some remnants of the old me, I got caught in the excitement of starting anew. Ergo, my silver lining. Change now excites me, whereas it used to stress me a lot. Is this a sures sign of being "stable?"

On a grander scale is the realization that while there are things that I want or am deprived of, there are a lot of things that I have and am grateful for. Looking back, there were times when I longed for greener pastures. Only to realize (thankfully before it’s too late) that a greener pasture usually comes with a huge water bill (wink, wink).

Often, it is best to let the natural course of things unfold. I watch, amazed, as the pieces just fall on their proper places. And they do fit seamlessly...far better than if I have intruded. I stand back now and see the rhyme and reason.

I never knew it could happen to me. But in the dead of winter, I found my eternal summer.



***

I feel the salty waves come in
I feel them crash against my skin
And I smile as I respire because I know they'll never win

Stop there and let me correct it
I wanna live my life from a new perspective

And who cares divine intervention
I wanna be praised from a new perspective
- Panic! At The Disco

My World Is A Flood

Today, a semblance of my old life returned. For the first time in two weeks, I was able to live again in my rented house in QC. Since The Great Flood of Manila (circa 2009) happened.

I checked my place a few days after Ondoy but refused to stay. It was no Provident Village, but the landscape of despondency and misery was just too much. The possessions of my neighbours (especially those from the first floor) are strewn all over the compound, mostly mud-covered or water-damaged. Along the way, I saw some houses that were partially dilapidated. Trash stretched as far as the eye can see, even lacing the barb wires atop the high perimeter fence, indicative that the waters reached those levels.



My room was a miniature disaster scene. The floor is covered with mud and everything on the floor was displaced. Shoes and mineral water bottles near the front door when it should be at the far end of the room. The books on my bedside table all warped by the water. The smell was terrible; the tang of seawater mixed with the sweet-sick smell of sewage. With a sigh of defeat, I just took my clothes that were in need of washing and left. I told my neighbour I’ll come back when things are more shipshape and bearable.



Sidebar: Apologies for the bad photos; they don't capture the distress well enough. I am no photograpger and when you are in the middle of this calamity, proper angle and focus is the last thing on your mind)

And so after two weeks, here I am. Last Tuesday, I spent the entire day tidying the place up and erasing all traces of Ondoy. I had to mop the floors thrice just to remove the muck. I got obsessed with disinfecting everything that was within reach of the knee deep flood. Well, a-whole-floor-and-a-knee-high flood to be exact since I live on the second floor (reminds me of the song Luka). I had to throw out my bed and pillows (I am thinking that if a dry bed is home to gazillions microscopic germs... how much more a flood-sodden bed). I had to remove three boxes full of magazine and books, plus another two boxes of miscellaneous files and papers (old notebooks from work, credit card statements, among others). I placed these in the back area (supposedly for hanging clothes) in the hopes that they will dry out one of these days and be resuscitated/restored.

For some reason, it felt like Christmas came early. A newly cleaned room reminds me of the holidays because general cleaning has been part our family Christmas tradition. Plus, I bought some new stuff which gave the room a brand new feel. I even changed the layout; symbolic of the turning of the proverbial new leaf.

Considering that other people suffered a great deal more, I may not have the right to rant. Or it may be insensitive for me to do so. Still, accepting this twist of fate was not easy. Among my personal casualties are books and magazines accumulated over the years. I lost some hard-to-find books, some newly purchased books, years-worth of issues of my favorite magazine and the last remaining copy of a Rizal textbook, part of which I co-wrote. Being an advocate of the printed art, it was hard for me to let go of these personal treasures. They are my invaluable investments and sources of inspiration. Excuse the dramatics but I feel like part of me was washed away.

On a more positive light, all of my electrical appliances were intact and functioning (can't live without a hair dryer...ok, I'm just kidding). And on a more personal level, Ondoy gave me some paradigm shift; I realize a lot of things. I realize I miss this good old place. I miss being home a few minutes after leaving the office. I miss waking up at 5am for some morning activities (either blog, surf, read or workout). What I didn’t miss is the uneasy feeling every time it starts to rain hard.

This year is turning out to be an annus horribilis for our country. First, the death of Cory then the double whammy of Ondoy-Pepeng. And next year is bound to be circus with the elections.

I’d like to think that I am ready for the next Ondoy. But please, not in the near future. I’ve had enough for now. This experience is already good enough for some storytelling with the grandchildren.

***

Downpour on my soul
Splashing in the ocean, I’m losing control
Dark sky all around
I can’t feel my feet touching the ground
But if I can’t swim after forty days
And my mind is crushed by the thrashing waves
Lift me up so high that I cannot fall
Lift me up

- Flood (Jars of Clay)

Life After Ondoy

This week has been surreal in a cataclysmic kind of way. After Ondoy (Ketsana) sent a record amount of rain last weekend, the most populated parts of Luzon was plunged into a state of horrible devastation. Lives were lost and lives were changed.

Monday morning in the office was gloomy. Although more than half was able to report to work, we worry about those who were severely affected. Everyone present seemed lost in their own bubble of sheer luck. Like we were all holding a fragile bottle of felix felicis in our hands. Being a “survivor” comes with a trickle of guilt. After seeing the horrorscapes on TV, most of the unaffected felt like they won a second lease on life.

Conversations were limited to stories of the weekend’s disaster. And in some stories we find something funny. Trust Filipinos to find some light humor in the midst of these challenging trials.

As P said, there is nothing like a disaster to put things into perspective. For what it’s worth, Ondoy was a painful eye-opener. For both victims and survivors.

Here are the things I want to change after this catastrophe. When the muck and mud has been cleared, we have no choice but move on and swallow Ondoy’s bitter pill.

Weather Forecast Should Include Expected Rainfall. For a country visited by no less than 14 typhoons yearly, typhoon is a fact of life. PAGASA (whose forecast accuracy is questionable) warns us about coming typhoons using Signals 1 to 4. But these signals only foretell wind strength. As Ondoy showed us, rains and resultant floods can be as destructive.



Telecoms Should Provide Calamity Text Advisories. Come on... as the text capital of the world, we are pestered by text messages informing us about sales, promos and marketing gimmicks. But at the height of calamity, we were left in the cold. The government should require the big three telecoms to provide info blast (weather forecast, traffic, evacuation plans) in times of disaster.



There Should Be A Typhoon/Flood Drill. We have heard of fire and earthquake drills; I think a typhoon and flood drill should also be in place. On a greater scale, our country needs to beef up its disaster preparedness measures. And I nominate Kris Aquino to lead this drill (so that everyone will follow). Sarcasm aside, we need to inform people where to go during calamities. Places can be marked as “flood or earthquake shelters,” meaning it’s safe to go there when disaster strikes. Educate your kids also on what to do. Teach them MacGyver instincts.Like when Ondoy flash floods happened, people didn’t realize that they can put empty plastic bottles inside a bag or sack and use these as “floaters.”



Study Ondoy’s Destructive Pattern For Future Warning References. Many firsts happened over the weekend. Floods inundated places that were once safe. First time that the floods reach the second floor in some places. Someone should study the trend so they can give precious warnings for upcoming disasters. For example, at what amount of rainfall should this and this area be flooded? At what critical level should Marikina River be to start a forced evacuation?



That Everyone Should Have A Disaster Kit. Very much like first aid kits, this can be a plastic container containing “living” essentials: canned food, Quaker Instant Oatmeal (better than rice or noodles in terms of storage and cooking convenience), candles, matches, long-life crackers and don’t forget the can opener...inflatables are optional; which can last your family for 2-3 days. This should be placed in the safest and accessible part of the house (and checked once in a while if some food has gone stale). We will never know when disaster will strike (think earthquake or tsunami). Also, those with cars should have a survival kit in their trunks. Get an old bag and place water, biscuits and a full set of clothes inside.



That Images Of Ondoy’s Aftermath Be Shown Before The May Elections. We elect people to “govern” us especially in times of distress. Where are these people when we need them the most?! You can argue that they were helping out silently or secretly (without media coverage). But still, it’s disappointing to realize that we were led by Tina Monson-Palma, Kris Aquino and Kuya Kim in the past week. (Which reminds me, these three should be given humanitarian awards. You can say what you want about Kris, but she rose to the occasion and HELPED IN A BIG WAY. How many famous people can claim that?)



Sadly, Metro Manila did not learn from the Milenyo experience. I hope this second blow of Ondoy will make us take stock about certain things. We are not sinners (as the now-famous FB status declared), but to NOT LEARN from this experience will make us a bunch of fools.

A little paranoia and some preparedness might get us through the next Ondoy, the next Pepeng or the next Arroyo.

With This Ring Comes Excess Baggage (A Book Review)

It’s Saturday night and I am stormed in. Typhoon Pepeng is battering extreme Northern Luzon and hard rains with bursts of strong winds have been pelting outside since midday. I spent most part of the morning watching CNN and ANC for typhoon update; feeding a paranoia borne out of last weekend’s Ondoy calamity.

To ease my boredom, I picked up the book I have been reading for two weeks. Anita Shreve’s A Wedding In December. And for some reason, the events of the previous week brought this taunt story to a more personal level. The central story occurred in the aftermath of 9/11. Tragedy given a more opaque light. Shreve was not being poetic when she described “the sense of the democracy of catastrophe. It knows no class or race.” We all saw this from Ondoy.

A Wedding In December revolved around the reunion of seven former schoolmates to celebrate the wedding of two of them. As with any reunion, the past is withdrawn from the drawer of memories and uncomfortable secrets resurface. In the same vein, the present is scrutinized with a mixture of disbelief, jealousy and pride.



Shreve is the master of layered storing-telling and this novel maximizes multiplicity to the hilt. Each of the seven characters carries their own personal baggage, both past and present. Tales of love lost and found, regrets and second chances, painful choices, sins not forgiven, hidden desires, life-long guilt and the torment of what might have beens. Add to this wicked brew the bipolar qualities of each character...strength and denial, courage and vulnerability, values and greed. And you have a plot at its thickest.

This heptagon of intersecting personas is further complicated by an underlying story about the Halifax disaster, seen in parallel with 9/11. The lives changed in one (literal) blinding second and the sacrifice of one fine young man. This story, by itself, is already heartbreaking.

As with other Shreve novels, this book explores human fallibility, notably at its darkest. But this novel stands out in the way each character fall victim to their own foibles but still evokes compassion and sympathy from the readers. We are as confused in their dilemma. We shake our heads at the bitter reality that one different decision could have changed an entire life. We are torn in defining what is good or what is right under these circumstances.

We are asked questions with answers that are highly biased and relative. Do you leave your family to pursue your one true love (duty versus desire)? Will you give all of yourself and your future for something that will soon be taken from you? Can you accept something that is wrong but makes another person happy?

On the grander scheme of things, the story makes the reader look inside himself and answer this middle-aged question: “Is this how you want to live the rest of your life?”

Shreve deviates from her usual formula of a surprise ending by laying down a crossroad as a conclusion. While some readers might be frustrated by this tactic, it is actually noble. The ending of each facet of this kaleidoscope lies on our personal judgement...what we think the characters deserve given their predicament.

If anything, this book shows us that everything is relative. What’s good for you may be bad for me. Yes, this includes relationships.

***
On marriage:

“One can never tell the story of a marriage. At the very least, a marriage is two intersecting stories, one of which we will never know.”

“In the beginning, one has such high expectations. And then life, in small increments, begins to dissolve those expectations, to make them look naïve and silly.”

Excerpts from A Wedding In December.