We will survive

Just to clarify – “Catlics” is an accidental word.  It came about because someone decided to text me and that’s the way s/he spelled “Catholics.”  It was also probably a slip of the fingers.  We all understand that.  When I saw the word, I was enchanted by it, found it charming, thought it might be a good word for lapsed Catholics like me.  And I said that it reminded me of a kitten licking its paws.  Why?  Because cat licks.  In my head I saw a tiny white cat licking its paws.  I saw that as a good picture for Catholics who no longer go to mass but who are still spiritual.  It’s mild.  Not devilish.

I just felt the need to clarify where the word was coming from to iron out all the wrinkles in the texts that I received from ardent practicing Catholics who felt the word referred to them.  No, it does not.  It refers to us.  By the way, I respect your beliefs and wish you would respect mine.

Can you bear this heat?  I don’t know if I’m being fried or boiled.  All I know is that I am suffering terribly.  I live at a breezy height but there are times when the breeze stops and I, who hardly ever sweat, feel myself sweating profusely.  Yesterday and today I have been fighting the flu and apologize to everyone who inquired about my writing classes.  I haven’t answered you because I am lying in bed next to an open door with my mind completely blanked out by the analgesics, cough and cold pills I’ve been swallowing regularly.  Don’t worry, though. After my annual bout with the flu, I will get organized and you will hear from me. 

But why should we complain?  We think of the world’s history and we come across moments like these when the temperature changes.  Usually that just skims through our minds.  Okay, that’s when all those fossils were created.  We never stopped to think about how it must have felt living through that era.

Climate change — those are the words I associate with Al Gore because I saw his wonderful presentation on it.  The glaciers melting because the temperature was rising or the weather was changing.  Every time that happens there is a very slow but very steady change in the earth’s surface and our world changes.

I remember having a conversation with Ray Punongbayan — God rest his soul — when Pinatubo erupted.  He was documenting it and told me he would store his records very well so they could help the people at the next eruption.  In approximately 600 years?  I asked.  Come on, Ray, by then there will be no more computers.  We will all be dead, followed by around 12 generations.  What are the chances they will find your records and be able to transcribe them?  I am sure the monks who survived the prior eruption around 600 years ago kept records but we just could not find them anymore.  Maybe they turned to dust.  Time is another enemy of recordkeeping. 

In a sense, time is fastidious.  Sometimes it preserves documents like the Dead Sea Scrolls that appear to have survived eons.  Other times it deliberately destroys and we don’t find the records.  Like my birth certificate, which was destroyed in a fire in the city hall, so as far as the country is concerned, I was never born.  Actually, that fascinates me.  Without a birth certificate maybe I can just disappear into thin air and very few will know.

Even in this extreme heat — and I admit that every summer is hotter than the last — I am convinced that in around 100 years we will have winter in the Philippines while the igloos in the North or South Pole will melt into puddles.  When I think about that I worry about the number of people who will suffer in the early stages, the people who will die because of the cold because they will not be prepared.  I am only grateful that I am alive now instead of then.  That will be a fearful emergency.

But maybe that will happen slowly.  Winter and snow will creep in slowly and by the time they are here people will know what to do.  That’s the only way to handle climate change, to educate people so they know what to do to survive, because we cannot control climate change.  That is God’s work.  That’s what I mean when I say Nature is God.  We cannot control nature.  We bow before it and hope we survive.  As Yolanda taught Tacloban.  All you can do is hope for survival and rebuild.

That’s what we should teach our people — what to do in the face of nature’s wrath.  How will the people who sleep on the streets survive?  Where are the shelters?  How can they work together for positive results instead of complaining and whining all the time?

Well, let me attend to my personal crisis.  I am fighting the flu.  Feeling like I’m dying now but I know I will survive.

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