Even on Saturdays, I usually wake up early. Hubby Sweet usually drops me and the pups off at House Better for the usual weekend stay with Father and Mother before rushing off to Lago de Oro for weekend wakeboarding. With a storm alert up (albeit only Signal #1), he decided not to go to Lago anymore. He asked instead if he can go to Club Gymnastica (where he can practice flips on a rectangular trampoline) before we head off to House Better. No problem, I said. I can sleep in.
He got back around 10:00 a.m. and asked if I really wanted to go to House Better. It’s practically zero visibility outside. I looked at him, quite surprised. It didn’t sound like it was raining really hard (I suppose, being in a groggy state in an airconditioned room on the 24th floor can insulate one from a lot). I looked out from the lanai and thought nothing of it. I can see the street, 24 floors below. Traffic was flowing free. The rain was continuous, but it was more a mist than an actual downpour. I actually thought, it was actually quite gentle and silent. We’ve driven through worse, I thought. Mother already prepared lunch. We should go.
By 10:30 a.m., we were out of the House Pioneer basement. It was soon after we got off the covered driveway that I realized that what seemed like a gentle mist from 24 floors above ground can actually hit your windshield in a way that will make it seem like you actually have a guy sitting on your car roof, pouring drums and drums of water down your windshield. The wipers were no match, but it was a short stretch from the House Pioneer driveway to the Boni Avenue underpass. “If it’s flooded,” I thought, “I’ll take it as a sign for us to turn back.” It was dry. A lone car was parked on one side, its hazard lights flashing. He probably decided to wait for the rain to ease up, Hubby Sweet and I agreed. We forged on.
We got up to EDSA. Only two cars other than our trusty CRV. No traffic at all, except that by that time, there was practically zero visibility. I told Hubby Sweet, “I suppose we can manage. Let’s just drive slowly.” He put on both headlight and the hazard lights. We knew we were in trouble when we hit Guadalupe. Traffic hit a standstill right across the Loyola Memorial Chapels. There, we practically parked, motor and aircon running, with Buster J and Banzo (our new Siberian Husky pup) in the back seat. People walking were drenched. Initially, they held on to their umbrellas. Soon after, everyone probably realized the futility. They were being drenched anyway, regardless of the size of their umbrellas. Soon, everyone was walking without it. The entire sidewalk of EDSA was reduced to a wet T-shirt contest. Buster J looked out the window, wearing a perplexed look--if that was at all possible for a dog. He has come to expect that as soon as the car stops, it would be time for him to go down. Banzo also tried to see what all the fuss was about, but he was too small. I picked him up and held him up to the window. We amused ourselves by watching the people go by as we listened to 594 on the radio for possible updates on why we have come to a complete stop.
We were on our way to House Better so we had the full battle gear (change of clothes, chips, dog food and a gallon of water that Hubby Sweet previously bought, supposedly to take to Lago). Hubby Sweet voiced out that, push comes to shove, at least we won’t go hungry. I called Mother on the phone to tell her we may be a bit late because we were stuck.
Traffic barely moved, and the few times it did, it would be by no more than a foot. Hubby Sweet looked to the other side of EDSA with the lit-up Jollibee, Chowking and KFC signs. “Tweet,” he said, if we don’t move from this place by 1:00 p.m., you take the wheel. I’ll just take the umbrella, cross-over to the other side (using the MRT foot bridge) and buy food. Malamang naman, nandito pa din kayo pagbalik ko.” He laughed. In times like this, I realize just how lucky I am to have a streetsmart, no kiyeme, take-charge kind of guy for a husband.
By 1:00 p.m. (by then we have been stuck for almost 2 hours), traffic started to move, albeit very slowly. Go. Stop. Go. Stop. During one of the stops (by then we have probably moved no more than four car-lengths), I shouted out to one of the MMDA’s, “KUYA!!!!!!!!! Nasan po yung mga baha?” Over the radio, it was reported that Nichols (the entry point of the SLEX) was submerged, but I wanted confirmation.
“Tatlong points po, Ma’am!” he shouted back, barely audible through the din of the rain, “Sa Estrella! Sa Buendia! Sa Mantrade!”
“Kaya namin dumaan?”, I shouted back, referring to the fact that we were riding a CRV.
“Ma’am, sa Estrella at Buendia hanggang bewang,” he shouted back, motioning to his waist then a little further up, “sa Mantrade, hanggang leeg!”
Ngyar….Hubby Sweet declared that he was going to park. I had gotten us into this mess with my doggone determination to go
home to House Better in time for lunch; he was putting his foot down. The Guadalupe area is high ground where we will be safe. We are going no further.
The problem was that, in bumper-to-bumper traffic, parking meant not allowing the ones behind us to go through as well. Thankfully, we realized that we were inching toward the entrance to the San Carlos seminary. If we must, we decided, we will beg, “Di po ba, sabi ni Jesus, come to me all of you who are weary…..” Thankfully, we got in without any hassle.
“OK lang, sige,” Manong Guard said. Bless him.
After making sure that we were parked and safe in San Carlos, Hubby Sweet took the golf umbrella and decided to walk back to the Guadalupe MRT footbridge and cross to the other side of EDSA to buy food. He told us to stay put and wait for him to come back.
He got back around 10:00 a.m. and asked if I really wanted to go to House Better. It’s practically zero visibility outside. I looked at him, quite surprised. It didn’t sound like it was raining really hard (I suppose, being in a groggy state in an airconditioned room on the 24th floor can insulate one from a lot). I looked out from the lanai and thought nothing of it. I can see the street, 24 floors below. Traffic was flowing free. The rain was continuous, but it was more a mist than an actual downpour. I actually thought, it was actually quite gentle and silent. We’ve driven through worse, I thought. Mother already prepared lunch. We should go.
By 10:30 a.m., we were out of the House Pioneer basement. It was soon after we got off the covered driveway that I realized that what seemed like a gentle mist from 24 floors above ground can actually hit your windshield in a way that will make it seem like you actually have a guy sitting on your car roof, pouring drums and drums of water down your windshield. The wipers were no match, but it was a short stretch from the House Pioneer driveway to the Boni Avenue underpass. “If it’s flooded,” I thought, “I’ll take it as a sign for us to turn back.” It was dry. A lone car was parked on one side, its hazard lights flashing. He probably decided to wait for the rain to ease up, Hubby Sweet and I agreed. We forged on.
We got up to EDSA. Only two cars other than our trusty CRV. No traffic at all, except that by that time, there was practically zero visibility. I told Hubby Sweet, “I suppose we can manage. Let’s just drive slowly.” He put on both headlight and the hazard lights. We knew we were in trouble when we hit Guadalupe. Traffic hit a standstill right across the Loyola Memorial Chapels. There, we practically parked, motor and aircon running, with Buster J and Banzo (our new Siberian Husky pup) in the back seat. People walking were drenched. Initially, they held on to their umbrellas. Soon after, everyone probably realized the futility. They were being drenched anyway, regardless of the size of their umbrellas. Soon, everyone was walking without it. The entire sidewalk of EDSA was reduced to a wet T-shirt contest. Buster J looked out the window, wearing a perplexed look--if that was at all possible for a dog. He has come to expect that as soon as the car stops, it would be time for him to go down. Banzo also tried to see what all the fuss was about, but he was too small. I picked him up and held him up to the window. We amused ourselves by watching the people go by as we listened to 594 on the radio for possible updates on why we have come to a complete stop.
We were on our way to House Better so we had the full battle gear (change of clothes, chips, dog food and a gallon of water that Hubby Sweet previously bought, supposedly to take to Lago). Hubby Sweet voiced out that, push comes to shove, at least we won’t go hungry. I called Mother on the phone to tell her we may be a bit late because we were stuck.
Traffic barely moved, and the few times it did, it would be by no more than a foot. Hubby Sweet looked to the other side of EDSA with the lit-up Jollibee, Chowking and KFC signs. “Tweet,” he said, if we don’t move from this place by 1:00 p.m., you take the wheel. I’ll just take the umbrella, cross-over to the other side (using the MRT foot bridge) and buy food. Malamang naman, nandito pa din kayo pagbalik ko.” He laughed. In times like this, I realize just how lucky I am to have a streetsmart, no kiyeme, take-charge kind of guy for a husband.
By 1:00 p.m. (by then we have been stuck for almost 2 hours), traffic started to move, albeit very slowly. Go. Stop. Go. Stop. During one of the stops (by then we have probably moved no more than four car-lengths), I shouted out to one of the MMDA’s, “KUYA!!!!!!!!! Nasan po yung mga baha?” Over the radio, it was reported that Nichols (the entry point of the SLEX) was submerged, but I wanted confirmation.
“Tatlong points po, Ma’am!” he shouted back, barely audible through the din of the rain, “Sa Estrella! Sa Buendia! Sa Mantrade!”
“Kaya namin dumaan?”, I shouted back, referring to the fact that we were riding a CRV.
“Ma’am, sa Estrella at Buendia hanggang bewang,” he shouted back, motioning to his waist then a little further up, “sa Mantrade, hanggang leeg!”
Ngyar….Hubby Sweet declared that he was going to park. I had gotten us into this mess with my doggone determination to go
home to House Better in time for lunch; he was putting his foot down. The Guadalupe area is high ground where we will be safe. We are going no further.The problem was that, in bumper-to-bumper traffic, parking meant not allowing the ones behind us to go through as well. Thankfully, we realized that we were inching toward the entrance to the San Carlos seminary. If we must, we decided, we will beg, “Di po ba, sabi ni Jesus, come to me all of you who are weary…..” Thankfully, we got in without any hassle.
“OK lang, sige,” Manong Guard said. Bless him.
After making sure that we were parked and safe in San Carlos, Hubby Sweet took the golf umbrella and decided to walk back to the Guadalupe MRT footbridge and cross to the other side of EDSA to buy food. He told us to stay put and wait for him to come back.
I took the opportunity to check on my dad (who was stuck in—of all places—the Manila Memorial Park because he had to attend an aunt’s burial), my mom in House Better, the people in House Makati (where Bro I-gue, Sister Pusjing and most of our cousins, titos and titas on my mother’s side lived) and on Eduardo’s (our paternal ancestral home). Everyone seemed to be in high spirits despite the predicament they were currently in at the time. Except for my mom (no issues in House Better), everyone else was contending with Typhoon Ondoy in one way or another. Ate Marj (being alone at Eduardo’s at the time) reported that she was not able to salvage anything, and that the ref was now floating like a coffin in the living room. She was otherwise giggling and safe. Father couldn’t get out of the memorial park as Sucat Road is flooded (“Dito na yata ako aabutin ng kamatayan ko,” he joked as Panet, Panids and Lolo Art guffawed in the background). Sister Pusjing reported that they were all on the second floor because flood in their first floor was waist-deep (thigh-deep for Bro because of the difference in their height, haha). They have managed to move all the important appliances to the higher landing. Despite the instant indoor pool that they all of a sudden have in their living room, they’re all OK.
I tried to send out a few messages out to check out on some friends, but got no reply. I don’t even know if they got my messages.
By the time I finished checking on everybody, Hubby Sweet was back with two steaming bowls of Chowking Beef & Wanton Noodle Soup and two asado siopaos.
We decided to get out of the car and eat at the nearby shed. It was wet, but at least it had a decent table where we could eat. Hubby Sweet also felt it wo
uld be good for Buster J and Banzo to get the chance to walk around a bit. They’re used to going out to Mother’s garden (or, I suppose, to our lanai in House Pioneer) during lunch to “go” and we did not want them to "go" inside the car. The rain, by then, had eased up a bit although it continued to pour. By the time we finished our soup, we were all (dogs included) slightly wet, but thankfully not drenched. As we were discussing whether to just leave the car in San Carlos and just walk back to House Pioneer with golf umbrellas and both dogs in tow, Manong Guard passed by on his bike. He reported that traffic was beginning to move. He does not know how or why it was moving, but it was. Miracle! Hubby Sweet and I decided after finishing our emergency lunch and after a quick trip to the restroom to try and go back to House Pioneer.
The southbound side of EDSA had indeed miraculously cleared up, but just as we were about to ease into the lane that will take us to the U-turn slot under the Buendia flyover, we realized that the northbound side was backed up. Over the radio, quite serendipitously (miraculously?), they advised motorists that the area in front of the MMDA office in EDSA was flooded. We did not want to get caught in traffic again nor run the risk of getting stuck in flood in a “low area” of EDSA. In a split second, we made the decision to go for gold—to go for higher ground: House Better via the Skyway. We turned to Buendia which was miraculously flood free until Paseo de Roxas (it was apparently waist-deep in other parts). We turned on Paseo, then on Herrera. That would take us to the Skyway ramp via Amorsolo. That worried me. I know Amorsolo was notorious for being flooded at the slightest downpour because it was next to a creek. I was stumped (albeit, ecstatic) to find it absolutely flood-free. The miraculous part about it was that Pasong Tamo (one block away, which is at the same level practically) was flooded. As we turned right to the Skyway ramp, we looked left to see Pasay Road, waist-deep in murky water with several vehicles stalled along it.
uld be good for Buster J and Banzo to get the chance to walk around a bit. They’re used to going out to Mother’s garden (or, I suppose, to our lanai in House Pioneer) during lunch to “go” and we did not want them to "go" inside the car. The rain, by then, had eased up a bit although it continued to pour. By the time we finished our soup, we were all (dogs included) slightly wet, but thankfully not drenched. As we were discussing whether to just leave the car in San Carlos and just walk back to House Pioneer with golf umbrellas and both dogs in tow, Manong Guard passed by on his bike. He reported that traffic was beginning to move. He does not know how or why it was moving, but it was. Miracle! Hubby Sweet and I decided after finishing our emergency lunch and after a quick trip to the restroom to try and go back to House Pioneer.The southbound side of EDSA had indeed miraculously cleared up, but just as we were about to ease into the lane that will take us to the U-turn slot under the Buendia flyover, we realized that the northbound side was backed up. Over the radio, quite serendipitously (miraculously?), they advised motorists that the area in front of the MMDA office in EDSA was flooded. We did not want to get caught in traffic again nor run the risk of getting stuck in flood in a “low area” of EDSA. In a split second, we made the decision to go for gold—to go for higher ground: House Better via the Skyway. We turned to Buendia which was miraculously flood free until Paseo de Roxas (it was apparently waist-deep in other parts). We turned on Paseo, then on Herrera. That would take us to the Skyway ramp via Amorsolo. That worried me. I know Amorsolo was notorious for being flooded at the slightest downpour because it was next to a creek. I was stumped (albeit, ecstatic) to find it absolutely flood-free. The miraculous part about it was that Pasong Tamo (one block away, which is at the same level practically) was flooded. As we turned right to the Skyway ramp, we looked left to see Pasay Road, waist-deep in murky water with several vehicles stalled along it.
Feeling relieved and much safer as we drove along the Skyway, we looked down to find a lake where Magallanes Village and the Villamor Driving Range once stood. The trees that lined the golf course were reduced to mangroves. On the street between Shell Magallanes and Galleria de Magallanes, people were actually swimming (!) to get from point to point. We have been hearing all afternoon over the radio that Metro Manila was flooded. It was only then that Hubby Sweet and I realized the extent of the damage that Ondoy had cursed (and, back then, was continuing to curse) Metro Manila with. We felt shivers run down our spines.
Upon entering the Skyway, Hubby Sweet and I already braced ourselves for another round of heavy traffic. We expected the Skyway to be clogged, but it was miraculously traffic free. The flood had caught everyone by surprise (rising at an alarming rate within a short period of time), and most vehicles had been caught in the South Superhighway down below. We got to House Better in less than 40 minutes from San Carlos Seminary. We were, finally, safely home.
Father arrived with his own stories to tell two hours later, after navigating back-and-forth through several side streets. He told us that Lolo Art had decided to walk home from the cemetery. Panids and Lola A were already home. Panet, who stubbornly decided to head back to Eduardo's, despite everyone else telling her to stay overnight in House Better was still stuck in traffic though with her cell battery running low.
By the time Father got home, the only other one left “out” was bro-in-law G-Genius who went to the gym early Saturday, not realizing that he will be hard-pressed to find a route back to House Makati after his gym session. Sister Pusjing and I texted back-and-forth about where he was at that point (thankfully, the Globe signal in Makati and Better was erratic, but still holding up at that time). We advised him to find a way to Ayala, Herrera, Amorsolo and the Skyway. He would have to spend the night at House Better; there is no way he can get home to House Makati.
G-Genius arrived in House Better in time for dinner after spending practically the entire day on the road. As we watched the special coverage on TV, we realized just how badly everyone else (particularly those in Marikina, Pasig and Cainta) was hit. We couldn’t help getting teary-eyed as we watched the scenes unfolding on the screen.
Upon entering the Skyway, Hubby Sweet and I already braced ourselves for another round of heavy traffic. We expected the Skyway to be clogged, but it was miraculously traffic free. The flood had caught everyone by surprise (rising at an alarming rate within a short period of time), and most vehicles had been caught in the South Superhighway down below. We got to House Better in less than 40 minutes from San Carlos Seminary. We were, finally, safely home.
Father arrived with his own stories to tell two hours later, after navigating back-and-forth through several side streets. He told us that Lolo Art had decided to walk home from the cemetery. Panids and Lola A were already home. Panet, who stubbornly decided to head back to Eduardo's, despite everyone else telling her to stay overnight in House Better was still stuck in traffic though with her cell battery running low.
By the time Father got home, the only other one left “out” was bro-in-law G-Genius who went to the gym early Saturday, not realizing that he will be hard-pressed to find a route back to House Makati after his gym session. Sister Pusjing and I texted back-and-forth about where he was at that point (thankfully, the Globe signal in Makati and Better was erratic, but still holding up at that time). We advised him to find a way to Ayala, Herrera, Amorsolo and the Skyway. He would have to spend the night at House Better; there is no way he can get home to House Makati.
G-Genius arrived in House Better in time for dinner after spending practically the entire day on the road. As we watched the special coverage on TV, we realized just how badly everyone else (particularly those in Marikina, Pasig and Cainta) was hit. We couldn’t help getting teary-eyed as we watched the scenes unfolding on the screen.
None of the friends I’ve texted earlier that afternoon had replied. I prayed it was only because of the dropped cell signals that the networks were reporting—and that they were all safe and alive.
By the time we turned in for the night, at least, our family (including titos, titas and cousins and Panet who had to leave her car and walk home all the way to Eduardo's) were all safe and accounted for.
For now, at the very least, that was enough to be thankful for.
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It just occured to me that around this time, three years ago, I actually wrote about our Milenyo experience. I thought that was going to be the worst storm that would hit Metro Manila in a while. I was apparently wrong. =( The picture below is Sister Pusjing's souvenir photo of House Makati in the aftermath of the typhoon.
By the time we turned in for the night, at least, our family (including titos, titas and cousins and Panet who had to leave her car and walk home all the way to Eduardo's) were all safe and accounted for.
For now, at the very least, that was enough to be thankful for.
**********************************************
It just occured to me that around this time, three years ago, I actually wrote about our Milenyo experience. I thought that was going to be the worst storm that would hit Metro Manila in a while. I was apparently wrong. =( The picture below is Sister Pusjing's souvenir photo of House Makati in the aftermath of the typhoon.
Rescue and relief operations for Ondoy are still on-going as I write this. As I told Sister Pusjing who texted me yesterday about helping out in the operations at Patita's school, we also have our own at the Tomato & Pineapple company--particularly for co-workers who have lost everything they had. That said, you may go and volunteer at the nearest relief center to help out on a wider, more massive scale or you may choose to help just one family get their lives back on track.
However you may choose to help, please (PLEASE!) just choose to do so.
I'd like to think that those of us who were spared were spared for a reason: it is so we can help those who were not.
In addition to the guest houses, four other private houses stand on the estate. But the entire estate is expansive enough so despite the fact that we were a group of almost 20 folks, including children, we’re pretty sure their privacy remained intact. 
