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Living dangerously
I have lived in Alta Tierra Village in Tabuc Suba, Jaro. Of all the villages in Iloilo, Alta Tierra (“high land” in English) contradicts its very name. I survived at least three major floods in my 8 years in this low lying village. Our lives were occasionally disrupted when the Salog River overflowed, but we got by. Old folks refer to the floods as "Jaro's curse" which happens every other year (with precision, as if on cue). At some point, being a resident of Tabuc Suba meant one has accepted his watery fate. Until Typhoon Frank came.
Damage to property due to Frank ran in the millions, the loss of lives, appalling. I have heard sob and horror stories from friends who suffered Frank's wrath. I don't think there's any Ilonggo who does not know anyone who lost homes (or lives) to Frank. And, the task of rebuilding lives (from scratch, to many) is not really over.
We were not in Tabuc Suba when Frank struck, but I couldn't say we were lucky. My folks transferred to a village in Pavia, a "stone's throw away" from the Aganan River which also shares Salog River’s temperament. At the height of the floods, my mother, sister and nephew sought refuge in a neighbor's house, drenched and cold.
Typhoon Frank was a personal tragedy not just for Western Visayans but the rest of the country, where it brought down MV Princess of the Stars in Romblon, sank dozens of fishing boats in the Visayan Sea, caused floods and mudslides from Eastern Visayas to Central Luzon, and storm surges in coastal areas from Zamboanga to Pangasinan. Frank was a grim reminder of how vulnerable the country is, and how wanting our coping mechanisms are. We barely have rescue capability and there's hardly any (forceful) legislation that prohibits residents from building homes in critical areas. We depend mostly on dole outs for relief and our (meager) calamity funds are not fully spent on what they’re intended for.
Filipinos are just living in the face of danger. Our innate “Bahala Na” attitude, not helping.
We build our homes on the path of tropical storms above the Pacific ring of fire. Wherever in the archipelago, Filipinos run the risk of being a victim of typhoons, sea surges, floods, landslides, volcanic eruptions or earthquakes. Urban areas are no exception. I live in Quezon City, a close neighbor of Marikina where a fault line lies. An official of the UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs says a magnitude 7 earthquake can result in unimaginable damage and loss of life to Manila’s 12 million residents.
The United Nations in its latest report ranks the Philippines the 12th most dangerous country (of 200 countries), because of the threats of several types of natural calamities. We share the ranks of Bangladesh, China and Colombia, while the safest places in the world are Finland, Bahrain and Estonia. Ironically that UN report came out days before the 1st anniversary of Typhoon Frank, and at the onset of the typhoon season. The UN challenges Philippine officials to take as much control as it can, in coping with impending disasters.
UN Secretary General Ban Ki Moon earlier called on countries to support the Hyogo Framework of Action. The protocol signed by member nations in Hyogo Japan a decade ago aims to reduce by half, the loss of lives and the economic toll of natural calamities by 2015. It urges governments to identify critical areas and craft legislation that prohibits habitation in vulnerable places. It also urges nations to allocate more resources for disaster preparedness, rescue, relief and rehabilitation. Sadly, the deaths and economic debilitation caused by natural disasters have only doubled in third world countries.
The disaster landscape is evolving (for the worst, unfortunately) with global warming abruptly changing weather patterns, causing more severe natural calamities. In the days when global warming was totally unheard of, the Philippines could hardly cope with disasters already. With more destructive natural calamities ahead, living dangerously may take a nastier toll.