Like a queen on
her throne, tranquil and majestic raises the Mayon Volcano above the Albay
gulf. But don’t let her calmness deceive you, her temper is feared even by the
farthest villages across the lands. Too
many times they have felt her mercurial rage, and when there was word among the
people she was again about to erupt, they prepared for the worst, like they did
during this times before, but no one could foresee that something else was
coming towards their direction three moons later.
(Bugtong Road)
(Near Cagsawa Ruins)
(Bridge in Ginubatan)
It
has been four months now since typhoon Reming made its way and brought the
harshest winds in Bicol and black, roof-high mudslides that cascaded down from
the Mayon and took many houses and families with it.
“The
water came in so fast”, one of my grandma’s neighbor still remembers like it
just happened yesterday. Within minutes the mud rushed into their houses
gradually increasing in elevation. Some
hurried to the first floor (if they were lucky to have one), others abandoned
their home completely to the nearest and highest point they could climb to, and
many weren’t that fortunate.
Like
several around my grandma’s house in Malabog, Manong Puldo and his family found
shelter in a church which was located on a nearby hill, as he decided to check
up on their house later in the evening, he only came to find that little was
left.
“Everything
was gone.” he recalled for me that moment.
“Our
things, the television, our clothes, not even a piece of underwear… Nothing was
left.”
He pointed on
the other side of the river. “That’s our house.”
(Manong Puldo’s
house)
As
I made my way through the devastated areas in Daraga (among other places I
passed by) and visited a couple of evacuation centers, one cannot fail to
notice that the progress in rehabilitating and rebuilding is unnecessarily slow
paced. The lack of equipment and
engineering vehicles such as bulldozers and excavators force the workers and
inhabitants (and even children) to clean up the devastation more often than not
manually. They spend their day digging
through massive areas of black gravel and rocks and separating the sand from
the stones with man-made coarse sieves, which is then loaded on trucks and
transported to deposit areas (for further use I suppose).
“Thank
You,” Manong Hermez said as I approached him with my camera. In his face I could see that he meant it. The
lines in his expression revealed his age and that he had been doing this kind
of work for a time. It seemed that he
was genuinely happy to see me, or that it made him feel not forgotten as I asked
him if I could shoot a couple of frames. He gladly insisted and expressed his
gratitude repeatedly. I can’t deny that moment moved something in me.
(Manong Hermez)
(Hard Work)
(young worker)
I
spent a morning on the fields with a group of workers and I was already
exhausted walking under the early sun. I went home with shoes filled with sand
and dust all over me.
Right after Reming passed by there
was news of the Cagsawa ruins being ultimately ruined, and this information is
far from the truth. The opposite, the church, which was buried by molten lava
in 1814, had become more than a tourist spot. Miraculously the mudslide split before it reached the church and
streamed on both sides leaving it unharmed. Since then it had become a sanctuary for the people.
My
first attempt to get to the ruins of Cagsawa failed, the streams of water from
the widened river made it impossible to pass through the gravel area other than
by foot, but this didn’t keep several tourists from visiting the church, I
guess it gives them a sense of adventure. Since we were traveling by motor, I decided to go back next opportunity,
which came the other day.
Unlike several
nearby structures such as souvenir shops, restaurants - and I think there was
some kind of park, the church’s bell tower stands tall and soundly. In addition to the postcards of Mayon and the
Ruins, children made a business selling photographs of the devastation around
Cagsawa. But moreover there is a change
which cannot be witnessed through the eyes. Cagsawa ruins has become quiet, it is no longer solely a tourist
attraction, but a holy place, a memorial for the victims.
In 1814 Mount Mayon erupted and buried 1200 people who gathered
inside the church, thinking they would be saved. 193 years later everything
around Cagsawa was buried, leaving the church ruins untouched. Is this the balance of nature?
(Cagsawa Ruins)
(tourists)
Numerous inhabitants began to
rebuild their homes on top of the gravel without waiting for the area to be
cleaned, who can blame them, no one can live without some kind of shelter, and
it has been four months. But as I hiked
above the gravel and rocks, the thought there still might be (and most probably
are) dead bodies underneath hunted be throughout. Among scattered pieces of clothes, unpaired
shoes, deformed toys, and bed mattresses coming from nowhere, it wasn’t hard to
imagine.
Which
reminds me of the case of Esthela K., who lost her sister-in-law and cannot
claim the money of her insurance, due to the fact that the family is not able
to provide the body, not even a piece of cloth of her sister-in-law as prove.
(A family)
(Buried)
“Mam, “ an aged man approached us asking
my aunt as we were walking home,
“Whom will you
vote for these coming elections?”
“Who
ever can help us,” my aunt replied.
The
man already knew that answer, yet there was little hope as his tone of his
voice changed.
“We lived here,”
the baseball cap made him appear younger, but a closer look revealed silver
hair,
“Only my own
family survived, but my cousins and their families are still missing.”
He pointed to
several areas in the gravel.
“Our houses used
to be here.”
It was hard for me
to follow which spots he meant, everything looks the same… Even the people,
like Manong Jakob and other individuals I’ve met during my stay in Bicol, many
of them have similar stories to tell, an experience how they lost their houses
and families, and how their hopes slowly vanishes into dust and ashes. They are
willing to share them to you, hoping that someone will hear them.
(Manong Jakob)
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other images visit: seian-j.deviantart.com
