It was three o’clock in the morning and my dad was still up. He was watching out for the flood water as it nears our door entrance while praying hard for God’s intervention.
When I woke up at seven and looked out the window, I knew it would be a no-office day for me but rather, an exciting emergency day. I’ve always been fascinated with “adventures” these calamities produce so I hurried down the stairs and initiated charging our gadgets while my parents were busy moving our stuff upstairs as the stubborn flood water made its way in. And this was the start of our three-day adventure or ordeal, whichever you wish to see it.
First, the house was a mess. And being such a neat freak, it freaks me out that food in plastic containers are in laundry basins, among other things. Second, since out of the two bedrooms only mine has windows (read: fresh air), everyone and everything are in it. And being such a neat freak, it freaks me out that food in plastic containers are in laundry basins in my room. Third, as expected, the problem with a limited supply of food, electricity, and water presented itself. But it was okay, I knew I had to face these kinds of situations and I was glad I was anticipating. Fourth, and what was probably the biggest challenge of all, call of nature became an unimaginable threat.
Aside from cooking (with stove and gas tank and all) and doing bathroom stuff in my room, chatting and fanning abaniko endlessly, another ironic thing happened in this whole poor-drainage-system fiasco. Given that we don’t actually own one to begin with, the windows in my room served as sort of a television. It was funny and crazy but for three days, it was as if our hopes hung on the metal grill bars of those window panes: shouting at our neighbors, watching people enjoy the temporary resort while they swim and float down the murky water below, and literally waiting for wonder to show up.
You see, in this squatters’ area where we live in, kids vandalize on the walls every single day. Fortunately for us, they’ve engraved in neon green crayons the name of a Tagalized children’s show “Wonder Pets” (it’s “wonder” above the word “pets”) which served as our metric to gauge whether the water is going higher or lower.
On the third day, we were anxious to see the wonder as it signifies a lowering flood level. Because walls aren’t ruled like those penmanship notebooks, the words were written slight diagonally with the “-R” flying away. So imagine us first seeing the tip of the letter R like sort of a beacon of hope.
During that night of heavy rain and heavy hearts, we prayed heavily to our heavenly Father for the wonder to show up. And just like how every episode of Wonder Pets ends, our Hero came to save the day.~
Photos: Blogger’s own