Undas 2024

On October 21, Severe Tropical Storm Kristine (internationally named Trami) entered the Philippine Area of Responsibility (PAR) as a tropical depression. That was the Monday we brought Damian and Maria to the clinic. Damian got admitted at the University Health Service (UHS) after lunch. While alternating with Pinky as his watch, I followed the storm as it ravaged its way through Bicol, Camarines, and adjacent regions, paying attention to rescue and relief efforts.

The winds came for Laguna and found our family split: I with Damian, the girls at home. Thankfully the hospital had few and short power interruptions with almost no problems with water. This wasn’t the case at home where we lost electricity, water, and connectivity for days, getting full restoration only after a a week.

As the storm took it easy on us and the sun came up, the university’s first order of business was to secure the constituents—the students first of all, and the frontliners—while clearing the paths. Fallen trees, electricity posts, and detritus blocked the roads and presented hazards to needed repairs (my former advisee Jessa has a report). Pinky had to move a heavy acacia branch off the driveway then maneuver to avoid various roadblocks just to visit us. Soon our doctor—understandably in absentia—issued discharge orders.

I asked permission from the guard to fill water containers: 45 liters meant a lot when you had no assurance of water rations. That done, I took a few more snaps before leaving with my happy little boy, gladly unshackled from the drip, eager to come home to the wide open arms of his sisters.

 

 

We tried to clean up at home and help out in the area but found it a problem without running water. Since UP Los Baños was intent on asynchronous classes, we felt the need to leave home for connectivity. Also, we all had bouts of coughing and Damian was still on the mend. Away from LB, I would learn of Randy’s passing during Jol’s birthday (and today, on Jol’s death anniversary, I learned that we lost Chris Belison). 

I wished to review this poem as one of two favorites in Poems Against the War, an anthology edited by Sam Hamill with Sally Anderson and others. I put this and other projects in the backburner because of the storm, the admission, (the grief, too, and the shock) and other challenges. With the house nearly in order, I faced the needs of the yard. And look, the kaymito “shouldered” a fallen kamansi: 

After 250 ax blows, the star apple unburdened of its “cello”: 

While you will find many such “shoulderings” inside the campus, we only had this one case in the yard. Mostly, what we needed was the inverse: Y-cut branches from fallen trees used to prop up leaning trees and smaller plants. Below, a young mango before and after a Y-support: 

 

Death supporting life, to extend Laux’s analogy. I did around eight of these, including another, older mango and this thorny kalamansi: 

Some extra Ys because you never know (and I suppose I liked the sound of the bolo whistling).

Overdid these Ys. This acacia—bane of rooftops—needed no propping up, especially not from its own heavy branches:

I have yet to find a purpose for all this wood. I can convert them to firewood, but the smoke may cause health problems. It was raining for a while as I wrote this, but now, more yardwork awaits. 

Found a piece of someone’s roof with which I can maybe patch up our gutter. Life on life, death on life, life on death, and... something I picked up yesterday.