Those were two or so harrowing weeks after Haiyan and now we more or less have the time to sit down and process the events. At a post mortem of sorts, I had an illuminating discussion with a dear friend of mine, Chris Villarino, a native of Leyte and a survivor of the storm surge that's claimed way more than the 2,500 lives the president previously insisted on in a devastatingly embarrassing CNN interview with respected veteran journalist Christiane Amanpour.
Kuya Chris held on to dear life, perched atop a sturdy santol tree he hugged as tight as he could, knowing that letting go of it meant the same as letting go of life itself.
Grappling for answers, making some sense of things, he had a stark observation. "We had no leader, not a single person emerged as a rallying figure, no one shined to inspire and give people hope." Tacloban City Mayor Alfred Romualdez, for him, became more of a symbol for the victims, helpless, hapless and hopeless, just like his fellow Taclobanons, at the mercy of a vindictive national government that was playing politics at the worst possible time, using bureaucratic red tape as a convenient yet unconvincing excuse.
He witnessed his city's mayor, himself looking dazed and befuddled, driving government vehicles, clearing the debris, doing what he can without communications, resources, people. The mayor was clearly a victim too, a victim of two disasters, that is - Haiyan and dirty politics, one, the strongest typhoon in the world's recorded history, and the other, the worst possible evil humanity can create.
In the days that followed, Kuya Chris had wondered where the famous sons and daughters of the region were, they would've done a lot in uplifting spirits and instilling hope.
The day after Haiyan, I tried calling the two most iconic Warays I am close to. When I called our grand aunt, the former Philippine First Lady Imelda Romualdez Marcos, herself almost synonymous to Tacloban ("the Rose of Tacloban"), her chief of staff informed me that she had not been told of the events, that since she had just been discharged from the hospital after a serious, nearly fatal affliction, the news and footage would surely break her octogenarian heart. I could not argue with that. When I tried calling Boy Abunda, indubitably Boronggan's most successful and influential son, he was in New York and could not be with his kababayans right away. Certainly, if both of them could, they would've been there in a heartbeat.
It was as if the fates intended for all of them to be indisposed so the people of Eastern Visayans can be left alone, leaderless, at a time they needed one the most. Only God, in his infinite wisdom, knows the reason and purpose for this absence.
But I wager a guess. In our Philippine culture, in human nature, we always pin our hopes and dreams on leaders, on that one hero, fellow human beings whom we elevate to ideals of perfection, and then we aspire to reach them, to be more like them. While there are a few who live up to the promise of true greatness and inspire us, many of them fail us, frustrate us, and leave us. Perhaps this was one occasion for us to believe not in one personality, but in a collective, in the power of a people to struggle and survive in spite of government. Yes, in spite of government.
The tragedy saw not one leader emerge, not one personality shine, but it saw peoples, nations come together.
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On Nelson Mandela:
And another great one has left us.
Many dream of changing the world, very few actually have. In no small way this man has, and because of him, many are inspired to believe they also might.
To the secular saint of global politics, an icon of freedom and social justice, Nelson Mandela, thank you for making this world a better place. Rest in peace.
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On Paul Walker:
Paul Walker, you died a hero, an outstanding human being, a shining example of kindness and 'giving a damn' - for all your efforts for our country and her people, you are an honorary Filipino.
It's not for us to decide, but perhaps it's safe to assume, the pearly gates are raring to open and welcome a beautiful soul like you. Thank you.
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A Facebook post from three weeks ago:
I was playing Christmas songs to relax while I was drafting a document. At first, it was kind of awkward listening to Christmas songs with everything that's happened.
But when I switched to Facebook to post an update, and I was starting to re-read what everyone's been up to - helping others, being there for them, many eager to slug it out in Tacloban and other areas to distribute relief goods, and so much more - I realized I was listening to exactly the right music.
It's going to be a different Christmas this year for all of us, I'm sure of it, but it could not be more Christmas in our very hearts than this.
I love the Philippines. It may not be a very merry Christmas, but it sure is going to be a more meaningful one.
God bless us all.
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Email: mikeacebedolopez@gmail.com.