By Jun A. Alindogan
Two years before I became a senior, I was invited by a minister to attend an event intended as a communal lot donation for religious workers who are members of a particular organisation in our municipality. Little did I know that I had to hike along a hilly slope, over small and large rocks in a shallow stream, and through a dense forest filled with the sounds of whistling birds and rushing water on a sweltering day. It was an arduous trek, and I was afraid I would trip over rocks, potentially injuring my head or sustaining wounds to my arms and legs. Fortunately, I was assisted by a good friend throughout the hike, who gently led me over wet soil until we arrived at our final destination.
The owner of the house knew when to expect us, eventhough there was no mobile signal in the area. His house was constructed with wood and stood on stilts. The bedrooms were located on the upper floor, while the downstairs featured an open-air area designed for the kitchen and a dining table for family members and guests.
After consuming a lunch of grilled freshwater fish and a coconut-based vegetable dish, I engaged in a conversation with the homeowner, who asserted that his area was safe from natural disasters due to its upland location. He further claimed that the surrounding mountains would offer protection, even from powerful earthquakes, based on his theological readings.
I had contemplated on his concept of protection. In my opinion, earthquakes do not spare any individual, structure, or natural feature from the effects of intense tremors. Some individuals and buildings survive earthquakes, but my uncle-in-law did not. He was in an upland hotel for a business trip when it was flattened by a 7.7 intensity earthquake that struck Luzon Island in the Philippines in July 1990.
I was in my mid-20s when the same earthquake struck in the late afternoon. At the time, I was working as a staff writer in the development division of a non-profit broadcasting company. Along with all the employees, I had to remain calm as the ground shook and our low-rise building swayed. I felt completely unprepared for this situation. The radio station manager instructed me to stand under the doorframe and wait until the earthquake stopped. Meanwhile, some employees sought refuge in the sprawling yard, weeping loudly while praying for protection and safety.
I never thought I would perish in the earthquake; I felt invincible as a young person. It did not cross my mind that life was precarious and that various social, philosophical, physical, and spiritual factors could influence one’s longevity.
On the contrary, in 2017, I was conducting a speaking test for a nurse seeking international English exam certification on the 30th floor of a prime location. The interview was recorded and would be sent to Australia for evaluation. During the interview, I observed the blinds moving along the glass walls, which puzzled me, as the room was completely closed.
News reports later indicate that a 4.1 magnitude earthquake struck Metro Manila. I was unable to stop the recording of the interview because there were no instructions from the centre manager on what to do. My only consolation was that, should I perish in the earthquake, I would at least be found and identified among the rubble, as I was on the 30th floor if the building would collapse vertically.
Coming to terms with one’s mortality is never easy; however, gradual acceptance can serve as a prelude to a meaningful life devoted to one’s personal and social mission.
In the former bungalow where we lived in a coastal town, howling winds were common during typhoon season. Our house had glass panels that felt as if they were being heavily hammered every time the winds groaned. Fortunately, the windows were sturdy enough to withstand shattering.
My mother would often tell us that the winds had become fiercer, based on her childhood recollections. When the winds howled, she always admonished us to stay together indoors. Even after the winds had abated, we were not allowed to go outside until the typhoon had completely passed.
When I first relocated to my current residence in the foothills, I remember living with an elderly couple whose house was still unfinished. The walls were made of plastered wood, recycled sacks, and a worn-out galvanized iron roof. During storms, the roof was often on the brink of destruction.
We are but a tiny speck when confronted by nature; however, this does not mean we cannot coexist. Coexistence does not imply equality, but rather a mutual relationship built on freedom and respect, no matter how difficult this may be.
Like the other elements, fire can be challenging to manage. In her later years, my mother enjoyed sweeping dried leaves and burning them. She developed tuberculosis while living in the province with my brother, but this was later resolved through nutrition and medication.
While I was away on a teaching assignment, the rooftop of my current residence caught fire from a lighted cigarette butt that was carelessly discarded by a neighbor. Residual wood and grassy plants ignited, creating a large amount of smoke that reached the electric wires. Neighbours called for assistance, and the fire was extinguished before it could consume the entire area. Fortunately, no one was hurt or injured, and no property was damaged.
However, I was concerned, as I received only a brief message with limited information from my mobile phone. In emergency situations, information dissemination is often limited, as time is of the essence. Some details may be withheld to prevent panic and chaos. Nevertheless, even with brief updates, key points must not be overlooked.
Nature will continually confront us, and the key to this challenge lies in adequate preparation and practical resources. However, even with proper planning and execution, calamities and accidents can still occur. Discernment remains the only key to survival.
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Manuel A. Alindogan, Jr. or Jun A. Alindogan is the Academic Director of the Expanded Alternative Learning Program of Empowered East, a Rizal-province based NGO in the Philippines and is also the founder of Speechsmart Online that specializes in English test preparation courses. He is a freelance writer and a member of the Freelance Writers’ Guild of the Philippines (FWGP).
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