We sit in a state of heartbreak

MANILA, Philippines - It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.”

When Dickens originally wrote those words, he spoke of a revolution sparked by the dissatisfaction of a nation with its king. Today, it speaks well of our current situation after super typhoon Haiyan (locally referred to as Yolanda) laid waste to our land, crushing a significant portion of Eastern Visayas in her wake.

The “worst of times” is apparent. The city of Tacloban, once home to some 200,000, was practically leveled as it met the eye of the storm. Over four million have been affected, at least 2,000 dead, and thousands more missing or unaccounted for. Our TV screens, radios, and social media networks fill up daily with the voices of those in search of their loved ones, praying that the ones they’re missing aren’t part of over two thousand bodies being picked up by garbage trucks around the city.

The task of immediate relief, let alone recovery, is daunting to say the least. Those who can are trying their best to get relief to where it’s needed, but it seems no one can move quickly enough. The situation is so overwhelmingly dire that people have begun to turn on one another, as those who have survived the storm are now in danger of dying of hunger, thirst, infection, or injury. A survivor was quoted on the local news as saying, “If we don’t get any supplies in here soon, people will start killing each other.” It is a ticking clock that those with the best intentions are trying to beat, and yet the loss seems almost too great to overcome.

Filled with desire to help

And so the rest of the nation sits in a state of heartbreak, watching our brothers suffer and filled with desire to do more to help. Oddly enough, in our grief, we have begun turning on each other, too, with so many opinions on how one should conduct themselves on social media considering the circumstances or on what the minimum amount of charity should be. There is also popular opinion that we should cut our leaders some slack, especially after the President gave an ill-received interview with Christiane Amanpour, Mar Roxas bungled through his own interview with CNN, and Anderson Cooper’s in-depth report revealed the lack of any organization to address all problems post-mortem.

Truthfully, in this high state of understandable sensitivities, everyone is entitled to feel whatever it is they’re feeling. Be it doubt or rage or relief or hopelessness or fatigue, people are entitled to want a little more delicadeza out of others, just as no one’s charity should be measured by what they post on social media. We as citizens are entitled to ask questions of their leaders and to demand explanations for a disaster they insist they were fully prepared for, especially when their leaders, while already drowning, insist that we aren’t underwater. We are all within our rights. But in the face of all this, I refuse to believe that there isn’t a way to let our disappointments be known without jumping down the throat of someone else who, while well-intentioned, may disagree with popular opinion. (Incidentally, this is also called “life.”)

The tension of these disagreements finds root in the terrifying ambiguity of the situation at hand, because as a nation that’s serially racked by Mother Nature’s temper, we have never seen destruction dealt with such abandon. We are all dealing with some ounce of exhaustion; so they say “the Filipino is waterproof,” but does that mean we have to call on our resilience so frequently? We are looking for leadership, for an inch of comfort that those we elected are taking these losses seriously and understanding that a death count of two thousand, though significantly smaller than an earlier estimate of 10,000, is still 2,000  too many. We are looking for solutions that don’t involve pointing fingers, and left with questions about where we can go from here, how long will it take to get there, and if those constructing the plans to make it there even know what they’re doing. Ultimately, we are looking for a tangible shred of hope.

People on the ground

Yet the incredible thing here is that what we lack in confidence in those who lead us, we find in our countrymen working tirelessly to alleviate the pain caused by this massive devastation. We find solace in the people on the ground, our armed forces, the struggling local government units who were victims themselves, the volunteers and NGOs who were spared by the storm and so extend every inch of themselves to give what they can, the entrepreneurs who spare as much as possible for those in need, our foreign brothers and sisters who see our need and react with swift and generous empathy. We are riddled with unsung heroes doing their part quietly and without praise for whom we are grateful. We are given a chance to share “bayanihan” with the rest of the world, the beautiful byproduct of such an ugly cataclysm.

We find hope in the idea that a disaster such as this should never be forgotten, that along with immediate relief, we find a long-term solution that minimizes the fallout of what cannot necessarily be avoided. We trust that the destruction of Yolanda does not only end in the rebuilding of cities, but in a demand for leadership that proves that as much as we may be waterproof, we do not have to look over our shoulders each time the sky gives way to rainfall. There is much to discuss and there is much that needs to be done, whereas after all, this is not a sprint but quite an extensive marathon.

We cope with loss by the kindness that springs forth in times of such senseless tragedy, like the children from Upper Bicutan National High School in Taguig, who took it upon themselves to write beautiful letters to survivors losing all hope. One of them, a student named Jacob Carinyo, wrote of his own experience of loss due to a similar natural disaster. Translated, it reads, “This situation is heartbreaking, and it must seem like there is no sense in living. But I’ve been where you are, to lose everything at the hands of nature’s wrath. We did not give up. It was a reset button, and we were given a fresh start at a better and happier life.”

It may not be the best of times, and the coming days may still be as dark as the ones before, but there is still hope. There is still life. Let this not be the epilogue of a sad tale, especially for those who have fought so hard and so well to stay alive. And so onwards into the night, we, too, pick up our heels and we fight.

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