after the killer floods: an outpouring of love

volunteers should log out, surrender their ids, and talk to psychologists or psychiatrists before leaving villamor airbase to help them de-stress and process their feelings after interacting with the victims and survivors of the storm. that's from a dswd (department of social welfare and development) staff tasked to brief volunteers before they are sent to different tents to help out.

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but before that, let's start from the beginning.

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we arrived at the villamor airbase at around thirty minutes past seven after getting lost thrice. the taxi driver that we hailed from harrison plaza took us to resorts world where he thought there was a
packing center for relief goods intended for the yolanda victims. but a staff in-charged of traffic at resorts world told the driver that the packing center is somewhere near marriott hotel. so he drove again to marriott where we got off. we asked again one of the guards at the hotel about the location of the mysterious and disappearing packing center.

the guard told us that it had been closed days ago, and that we should instead go to villamor airbase.

undaunted, mitch and i hailed a cab and told the driver to take us to villamor airbase where people volunteer to pack relief goods. we had to add "volunteer to pack relief goods" so the driver would know where to take us. luckily, this time, the driver knew exactly where to go and he drove us straight to gate four of villamor airbase.

the military man in camouflage uniform guarding the gate told us to get off at a waiting area a few meters away from the gate and wait for a shuttle that will take us to where we want to go.


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there were about a dozen people waiting for the shuttle, most of them in their twentys. there was a middle-aged couple who arrived after us. a few minutes later, the shuttle that could accommodate about twenty persons arrived. the shuttle is actually the same ones that we see in golf courses and even at the mall of asia that ferry people around for free.

our driver was a young air force officer in camouflage uniform. most of us in the shuttle were quiet, as though we were about to go to a battle field instead of a packing center.

instead of the packing center, we found ourselves in the stadium where people who just disembarked from the planes (c 130s) from tacloban were assisted, fed, hugged, comforted, given clothes, toiletries, and then finally offered a ride to where ever their relatives are in metro manila and other parts of luzon. some volunteers even drove some of them to baguio city.

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at the stadium, we saw tents with people cooking food, others making sandwiches and coffee, giving out first aid and other medical services. there were tents by smart, globe offering free charging of mobile phone batteries and free calls. but there was no area for packing relief goods where mitch and i wanted to volunteer a few hours of our weekend.

upon seeing the tents and the people willing to help, my first thought was: anderson cooper and other international journalists -- who covered the aftermath of yolanda in tacloban city and other areas of leyte and samar, and anyone else who complained about the absence of a well-coordinated relief effort, lack of a soup kitchen, among other necessities to aid the victims and survivors of the strongest typhoon to ever hit the planet -- should have been here.

we looked around for someone we could ask. everyone seemed busy. we saw a nun who was talking with someone else. we interrupted their conversation and asked her politely about the location of the packing center. the nun said we should take a shuttle and tell the driver we were going to the gym, the designated place for packing relief goods. after another five to ten minutes, and a bit of conversation with the driver (another young air force officer) of the shuttle, we arrived at the gymnasium, where a lot of people were standing outside of the gate.

after a while, a woman in a red dswd shirt announced on the megaphone that they already had a full shift inside. but if we were willing to wait, then we might just be needed later on.

frustrated, mitch and i decided to go back to the stadium. already impatient, we decided to walk since there were no shuttles this time. while walking, a shuttle passed by. it was empty. we rode in silence. it turned out it wasn't such a long walk after all from the gym to the stadium. maybe five to ten minutes.

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at the stadium, we lined up in front of a tent to register. then we listened to a dswd staff named mitch who gave us an overview of what to do, where to go, how to behave. she stressed that we should not look problematic or even snooty. always smile. be approachable. (this prompted me to ask mitch to remind me to always smile.) be mindful of your surroundings, put the trash in the bin. you get the drift.

mitch from dswd enumerated the areas where we could volunteer aside from ferrying passengers out of the airbase. we could join the medical team (but it was already full) or the team giving psychiatric help to ease (not sure if "ease" is the right word) their trauma; serve as a runner to meet arriving people from tacloban, carry their bags, ask them what they need, serve them food and water; or we could join the people cooking food; or sorting out clothes.

since we are not psychiatrists, we don't enjoy cooking that much and we don't like running around ferrying people from the plane into the cars that would take them to their ultimate destination, we decided to join the clothes sorter. after we agreed on this, a man came looking for twelve volunteers to sort out clothes. we smiled. luck was on our side. mitch and i immediately raised our hands. we were selected and registered again. we were given our name tags or ids.

finally, after a few trials and errors, we were ready to do what we set to do in the first place. our group consisted of two dominican nuns, three young women who just graduated from la salle, some young mothers. we headed to the tent (it was right next to the medical team where there were some cute doctors and nurses attending to everyone's needs), where mountains of clothes, some still inside sacks and boxes, needed to be sorted out.

it was simple, really. you just go through the clothes, separate those for adult men and women, for boys and girls, and for infants. you also get rid of clothes that look so worn out or shirts with the photos and names of politicians. bawal ang epal sa relief centers, but of course, especially here at the villamor airbase. how i loved, by the way, throwing away those political shirts with photos and names in bold capital letters of former president and now manila mayor joseph estrada, paranaque councilor alma moreno, makati mayor jun binay, among others.

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after a few minutes, i felt at home. aside from the two nuns in our group, sister malou and sister leones (yes, i remember their names), i also befriended the three english-speaking young ladies who are recent graduates from la salle.  they helped me man the booth giving out shorts, shirts and women's clothing.

food and drinks kept on coming. bottled water, coffee, chocolates, sandwiches. just what i needed, i thought, as i try to lose some weight in time for next year's bb pilipinas universe pageant. i intend to shed some excess pounds so i could finally bring home the crown that has eluded us in the last fifty years or so.

at the booth, i was able to talk to fellow waraynons (who were surprised when i spoke the dialect) who just arrived from tacloban and ask them what they needed: jackets, pajamas, shorts, house dresses, pants, skirts, name it we have it. i even found some glittering dresses and gowns that are good enough for a party or two.

"maupay na gab-i," i greeted one of them. "ano an iyo kinahanglan? may ada ngadi maong na sarwal, shorts, jackets, dusters. may ada gihap sabon, toothpaste, tsinelas."

this greeting always made them smile. sometimes i would crack a joke: we also have gowns here by versace if you want to audition at the abs-cbn. i heard they're looking for a fresh batch of actors and actresses. then the smiles would turn into laughters.

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"maaram ka mag-waray," an old woman whose tanned skin would have been an envy among my expat friends in hong kong, remarked. she was wearing a black shirt with "i love tacloban" print and blue skirt. even when she tried to smile, she couldn't hide the sadness, weariness and dizziness in her eyes.

"oo gad. taga-samar man ako," i answered with a smile that i hoped radiated warmth.

then the talk turned into "how's your family," "i hope they are they all safe." etc.

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what i found amazing was that most of them were very shy, a far cry from the image that the whole world saw on television when some of them looted stores just to quench their thirst and hunger. i had to urge them in a gentle voice and with a smile to just say what they need because we are there to help them.

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after an exhausting three hours, mitch and i decided it was time to go, as a fresh batch of volunteers arrived, ready to sort out clothes. some of them were teen-aged boys who smelled of beer and cigarettes. but that's alright. it was already nearly one in the morning, so naturally, some of them probably came from parties. at least they found something productive to do instead of engaging in brawls and sex after a drinking session.

outside of the tent, a chilly air greeted us. reminding us that christmas is just a few weeks away. but looking around the base, the christmas spirit is already upon us. what is christmas if not a celebration of love? last night, and any other night for that matter, there was an outpouring of love inside the base, far greater than any storm surge that flooded cities and claimed lives.

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this may sound like a cliche, but it really feels good to see a lot of filipinos, young and old, rich or poor, military and civilian, gays or straights, women and men, doing volunteer works all in the name of love.

how i wish cnn's anderson cooper, who complained on his very first day in tacloban city about the absence of a soup kitchen and relief goods for the victims, had seen it.

he should have witnessed how this group formed by wives of air force men, at first without the aid of the government, was able to help a lot of people from typhoon ravaged areas and made them feel that they are not alone in their grief, that somewhere in the big city where men can sometimes transform into beasts over small things like traffic, kind and generous souls still exist.


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after logging out and surrendering our ids, we skipped the talk with psychiatrists.

after all, i told mitch, i am a cold-hearted bitch. i don't need to de-stress.

what's a few hours of sorting out clothes and talking to victims compared to what these people have gone through in the last two weeks? yet, they still managed to smile when i greeted them in waray and some even laughed at my jokes. that's grace under adversity. a priceless gift from the gods.

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that's all bitches, witches, fairies, princesses, queens and wannabes! have a great weekend and a lovely week ahead.

(all photos were taken from different web sites. no copyright infringements intended.)