The Commute

It was already a wet Saturday morning when I decided to meet up with my friends Dondon and Novs (aka Ceblogger) at Makati to play badminton. I knew I had to meet them soon before I leave the country for a long trip. There may not be a better timing than this free weekend. At least, that was what I thought.

I packed my bag with my badminton essentials and left my home town in Malabon City. I prepared for an overnight stay just in case I got a chance to meet up with the rest of the Influenza Bloggers later that day. I planned for some quality drinking time with the boys.

The commute to the MRT station wasn’t difficult. In spite of the forewarned storm, there were a lot of people rushing to the train. Their faces reflected the gloomy weather. There was a mechanical aura about the people getting inside the train carts on their way to work.

As soon as the doors closed, I was pinned. I barely had the space to move. It was with a lot of effort that I was able to send an SMS to Novs that I was already on the train so that he could meet up with me at Magallanes Station.

I felt a soft body pressed at my back. A petite woman was unmindful of getting crushed. There was a young man whose tensed body was against mine, pushed me back as if displaying strength. I didn’t feel compelled to compete with his childish display because I knew there was a lady pinned behind me. I held up my space supporting the lady.

Station after station, the passengers dwindled as we passed the business centers of the Metro. The lady finally left when we reached Shaw Boulevard station and the obnoxious guy got off at Ayala. It took a lot of effort on my part not to trip him on his way out. It wasn’t worth it.

I called Novs to tell him that I was near Magallanes Station. Coincidentally, he was just 15 minutes away and I had time to walk to the nearest street to meet up with him. But there was a heavy downpour. An avalanche of water seemed nonstop and the roads started to fill with flood water.

At first thought, I wanted to deny the idea that I was there in Makati to play badminton. That wasn’t it. I stubbornly wanted to meet up with my friends more often before I leave. Yeah, the words brought more rain in my mind than the already flooded streets I was looking at.

Since Novs and I kept having our games postponed since May, maybe even just this day, even when it was raining, we could play a while.

I read Dondon’s SMS. The street in front of his house was flooded knee high already. He doubted if he could make it, but he endorsed us to his wife’s cousin who was already at the badminton court.

Okay, I knew there was something terribly off that day. I just didn’t trust my instincts that much and my mulish decision overpowered me.

It was already nine when I made a call to Novs, I found out that he was already at the meeting place. I was wading an ankle deep flooded Pasong Tamo Street, looking for his car. He wasn’t there. The ringing of my cell phone was dulled by the torrid fall of the rain. All I heard was white noise amplified to the thousandth level, but the vibration from my pocket told me that there was a call in progress.

He was on Osmena Highway! I told him I couldn’t find my way and submitted myself under a shelter of a Hardware store. I was supposed to be the Metro Manila resident and I should have known my way around, but the Cebuano was more knowledgeable than I was.

When I saw the yellow Ninoy Aquino plate on the black Mitsubishi Adventure, I had a comfortably dry feeling amidst the soaked shorts and dri-fit shirt I wore. He was all smiles when I met him. Just like the times when we drank with the Influenza bloggers, the same gentle giant.

Games

The way to the badminton court was a task in itself. I loved a good challenge and my pal Novs was also up to it. All he said was as long as there were two of us, we didn’t have to worry about the flood. Somehow, when he said that, I kept thinking I might end up pushing the AUV while he steered. I shrugged off the idea, but that was a possibility.

With my camera phone I took some pictures of the flooded road going to the badminton court. I was surprised that the parking was full and we had to drive to the back of the building to find a parking space. It was flooded too. That did not deter two full grown up men to go inside. With my slippers on and Novs barefoot, we waded the mid leg deep murky water. We were cavemen after all!

This time, the rain was pounding on the roof. The each million drops were louder than each time we hit the shuttlecock. We found Ate Ne, the cousin of Dondon’s wife. I informed her that Dondon might not make it because of the flood. She said it was fine and set us up for a game with the local players.

This was the first time Novs and I played, but we were on different sides. He was paired with a shorter player and I was paired with a taller one. The game was exhilarating! My partner was pretty aggressive and wanted to win badly too. We won the first set, but, lost the second. Novs made exhibition moves and I had a hard time returning his smashes. As a lefty, he had his advantages.

The deciding match was even more exciting. I did not plan on losing and neither did my partner, so we gave it all we got. We were two gladiators who worked in tandem to kill a common adversary. Damn! That win was fulfilling.

We looked out on the street and saw that the water kept rising. It was already around lunch time when our bodies were exhausted. We were paired the last three or was it four games. A determined guy kept coming back with different partners to challenge us. However the result was always the same. Again and again, Novs played his magic and anticipated their movements with computer precision. It was my speed and stamina that I contributed to our team.

We won every last game.

Going home

After a refreshing shower, I prepared my stuff while Novs patiently waited. I was hungry and asked him to grab some food before going home when I received an SMS from Roel (aka The Money Maverick) that he would not be able to leave his house because of the rain. Although it was still pouring, it felt like the intensity was moderated to a medium like the flames of a stove that was lowered to simmer. One Influenza Blogger out.

We got out and were electrified from what we saw! His Mitsubishi Adventure was in a mid thigh deep flood water. We decided to get inside using the back door. It was accessible for both of us and high enough so that the water would not enter his vehicle.

I went in first and I arranged the stuff in the back of his car. I was busy making room for him when I didn’t realize that a truck came from behind and water rushed eagerly inside from the wake.

When Novs got in, there was a worried look carved on his face. He was cool not losing his temper nor showing any dismay. Come to think of it, I never heard him curse nor showed any anger. I was only a passenger and I wasn’t able to hide my infuriation from everything. I shouldn’t have gone out that day. Should have just canceled and be man enough to accept that I never was a good planner for this “game.” But I was obstinate, so was Novs.

With a prayer and some luck, the engine of the AUV fired up. Driving in the flood felt like cruising on a motorboat in a lake. I saw an inflated raft that drifted from our wake.

We looked for a dry street and parked; planned our route. I have been receiving text messages. One from Dondon who helped his mother-in-law move their belongings to the third floor of their building and another from my mom who was worried I had to leave the house to play badminton, of all places – in Makati! She told me that traffic was terrible everywhere.

It was our decision to look for food first then plan our next step later. It was simple, but there were so many flooded roads and we didn’t know the area well.

Postponed Wedding

On every turn, we searched for dry land. Our stomachs were growling like lions unfed in a den. I so badly wanted to eat KFC that time, but there would have been a better time to feed my bratty ego. Novs found a Burger Machine Stand along Sacred Heart Street.

I ordered the biggest burger they had, good thing there was a promo and we were able to get two burgers for the price of one. Novs and I ordered one each, then waited for the burgers to cook.

He called his wife who was worried sick from Cebu and I was trying to figure out how to go home from there. At first I thought about going to Ayala Avenue then take the bus to the train station. But I thought of the flooded streets again and hesitated. Opted for plan B – not to go home.

We were enjoying our burgers when a lady about my age by my best estimate ordered coffee. It was weird because she was wearing make up on a rainy day. Novs mentioned that the building behind us was a YMCA building and related to me the advantages of being a member. I got a good quick summary of what he said and used the information to    talk to the lady.

I asked her if she was one of the tenants of the building and she disagreed, but she wasn’t offended by a complete stranger who asked her – me. She said that she was part of the wedding entourage with families of the bride and groom housed at YMCA. I told her that the rain must have brought the bride and groom so much blessings! Unfortunately, the ceremony was postponed because of the storm. The guests and the sponsors didn’t make it.

Novs joined in the conversation and asked for the other arrangements like the reception, flowers, and food. She engaged us and told us that all of them were postponed. We felt bad for her. Somehow I felt more gloom when we left without even asking for her name nor finding out whether she was the bride whose wedding day was postponed.

Yet, Another Influenza Blogger Drinking Session Postponed

With his left hand reaching in his pocket and his right hand on the steering wheel, he dialed a number. Bonnie (aka The Third World Geek) answered and they spoke in Bisaya.

He later translated that Bonnie was on his way to Jupiter Street for a “special” project at a hotel. Novs was excited to tell the news that we could all hang out with him at Bonnie’s hotel room.

Our plans kept changing like the weather. There was just too much flood from where Bonnie was coming from and vehicles were at a dead stop.

Bonnie postponed his appointment, instead invited us to his place in Sta. Mesa. Novs was unmindful of the gasoline consumed while we kept circling Makati for a better route.

I called up Dondon and asked for the fastest way to Sta. Mesa. After several instructions, we braved the flooded street of J.P. Rizal.
When we reached a fork in the road, we found out that the vehicles were backing up. One of the residents warned us that the flood was waist deep.

The water was higher on J.P. Rizal than we passed through it earlier. Children were out swimming in the foot deep mud colored water – apparently having a great time.

We hit a bump on the right front wheel. I had a sick feeling that the tire was punctured, but ignored it. My experience with too many flat tires warned me. Of course, it wasn’t my car and the tires were rather new. I tried to comfort myself from having that idea.

We entered Makati City again, opting to take Osmena Highway to Manila. Traffic was surprisingly light within the business district and we reached EDSA in a jiffy.

Then we got stuck!

We were like ants crawling over peanut butter with our feet stuck after each step. Then one of the pedestrians pointed to our front right tire.

Flat.

We had no choice but to park at the outermost lane and tried to change the tire.

I got the spare tire out while Novs searched for the Jack and tire wrench. It looked so simple, but the jack wouldn’t fit under the chassis. The tire was too flat to support the space for me to place the jack.

Some by standers offered help and tried to put the jack in place. I started to ask the passing trucks if they had smaller jacks. But the answer were all N-O. I wondered how they managed to change their tires whenever they get a flat tire.

I looked back and saw that one of the by standers, which Novs found out to be his Cebuano speaking from Limasawa, Leyte, was able to lift the SUV using the jack.

The tire was removed.

When he started to replace the tire with the spare, a problem hit us like a dirty hook shot in our faces. It wouldn’t fit.I later found out that Novs original spare tire was stolen and he got a “replacement.” That explained why it wouldn’t fit. Alternatives were laid. It was the logical choice to have the original tire vulcanized or, at the least, inflated.

I did not hesitate to bring the tire to the nearest gasoline station.

Like a child playing with a tire, I started rolling it up on EDSA. Ignorant of the eyes inside the cars and the comments from the passengers of busses and the pedestrians. I made my way through the traffic.

Nothing like hard labor after playing 5 sets f badminton the same day. It felt like I was trying to be in shape like Pacman on his next fight.

The tire fell more times than I could count and slipped from my hands but I kept at it. Rolling the tire on the road, reminiscent of that childhood game.

My back started to hurt. But my learning curve was fast and I soon found a way to keep the tire rolling with one hand. Running after it was fun and dangerous at the same time. There was the risk of the tire running lose on the slippery road and it could have rolled under a truck or a passenger jeepney, but, it didn’t. I was an expert – even for just that time.

I kept going and asked some of the by standers where the gasoline station was. After the second response I got that the Petron was on EDSA, I felt my energy escaped me.

But it was the will to go home that kept me pushing that tire to the opposite direction.

I was wary crossing EDSA. I have crossed that road before but not like the state I was in. I usually drove my own AUV then. Proud with the big wheels crossing that highway. Now I was humbly pushing a tire, drenched in the rain.

No amount of branding made me feel proud.

I saw one of the attendants at the Gas station and asked for assistance. I wanted for the tire to get vulcanized but that facility was closed. I was told to come back the next day. As if I’d do that. My pal was on EDSA assisting traffic and I was there in the gas station.

With the tire in one hand, I effortlessly rolled it to EDSA once again. My back ached only a little as I sped up to where Novs was.
I didn’t mind the cars, just tried to avoid hitting any of their shiny bodies. When I reached him, Novs was waiting for me in the rain.
I told him what happened to me hastily while I replaced the tire. Each bolt I secured felt like a wound was healing in my broken body. Each turn of the tire wrench was fulfilling. Like there was no rain, no hunger, or remorse of waking up to this day.

I got inside the AUV with Novs and admitted to him that this was the first time I replaced a tire. I usually let attendants at gas stations do it for me. He was actually surprised I did it like a vulcanizing expert.

It had always been my motto to say “monkey sees monkey does.” As long as I paid enough attention and saw how it was done, I could do it myself. I have seen my tires replaced a lot of times and I was confident to do it myself. Well, at least half of the job.
It was almost past seven in the evening when we left our temporary parking space. The crawl turned into a halt. It didn’t help not moving the AUV because the air from our tire still leaked.

Novs got a call from Bonnie asking for an update. Novs sadly told Bonnie that we would not be able to make it. Because number one; our tire was leaking, number two; we were stuck in traffic and number three; we were not sure if the flood had ceased in Manila. Another Influenza Blogger out.

We were still not moving.

I checked the tire every ten minutes then Novs suggested not to look anymore, good idea since we would still be running flat in search for the nearest vulcanizing shop.

We swerved two lanes to reach the outer lane in order to go to Pasong Tamo. It was the best decision we made. As soon as we were on the outermost lane, it was clear that our burden would soon be lifted.

Unfortunately, the tire was already flat.

There were several jeepneys parked along Pasong Tamo Street, so we asked one of them. He had a strong Southern accent probably from Batangas or Quezon. It took several repetitions before I got the instructions right.

We headed to the opposite direction, this time, towards Pasong Tamo Extension. Discussing the possibility of the routes we could take.

Soon enough, we reached the instruction of that Southern driver, unfortunately, the vulcanizing shop was closed.
A girl was looking at our hopeless faces while I asked her for another vulcanizing shop or a gasoline station (to at least inflate the tire again).

She told us to just keep going until we find Petron. We obeyed like cub scouts blindly following instructions. Petron station was closed. Yeah, it was only nine in the evening and it was closed.

We kept crawling.

There were several shops on the opposite side of the road. An air conditioning repair shop, a junk shop, and a Vulcanizing shop. Whoa! There was a vulcanizing shop. Adrenaline rushed.

To be definitely sure, I went to the shop first while Novs waited on the other side of the road while his car idled. I got a positive reply from one of the kids working there and signaled Novs to park along the side of the shop. A little chit-chat and we found out that in less than three hours, the shop would close. Eleven was their deadline.

One of the kids started working on the tire. It only took 5 minutes for the hole to be fixed. Novs was amazed by the simple approach. The kid punched a hole in that leak, then, when he removed the pin, a rubber glue sealed that freaking hole. It was done. All the kid needed to do was to re-inflate the tire and replace it.

The Road to Home, err, Novs Home

We left for Sucat. I already told my parents that I would spend the night at Novs place. I suddenly felt soaked and cold. The burden of the days adventure unleashed on my shoulder.

As soon as we entered the South Super Highway, we saw vehicles parked at the innermost lane. Some of them were being towed and some were parked with their drivers inside. We deduced that they were stranded and their engines wouldn’t start.
Novs and I were lucky that his AUV only suffered wading in the flood. Unlike those other cars that were abandoned along the expressway.

We reached Bicutan Exit and saw a long line of vehicles queued south-bound.

It was ten in the evening, satisfied our stomachs with the last burger and waited for the vehicles to move. It was almost two hours when realized what the traffic was all about. A short stretch of road was flooded, thigh-deep with dirt water. The other cars weren’t moving, but our desire to reach our destination gave us the will to cross that flood.

The AUV made it without a sweat and made it to Sucat in less than fifteen minutes.

Later, from the internet, we found out that the events that happened to us were nothing compared to our dear brothers and sisters who lost their houses and the lives of their relatives and loved ones. We were still lucky we reached our destination safely.

Soon, I will be leaving the country for a long trip. Faced with a turning point in my life that I am willing to take, but for now, as I look at the blisters in my hand, I remember that Saturday when I pushed a tire along EDSA and spent a whole day with a good friend.

What was your personal account with the typhoon Ondoy? How did this affect you?

You might also like to read Novs version of the story “Typhoon Ondoy (Ketsana) Experience: Of Badminton and Flooded Metro”

If you have a similar Typhoon Ondoy story, please include your at Reyjr’s Share your Ondoy Story to Help Heal the Nation

Tags: Personal Account, Typhon Ondoy
Category: Stories.

comments feed • trackback • leave a response •