Ever since Nelson, my brother started going to college in Manila he only returns home in Arayat during long holidays. He just left us last month before the end of summer and I did not expect him till Christmas break to return. "Today's June right?" asking rhetorically for assurance from one of my friends as I watch his red-orange corolla swerving passes two jeepneys and a dazzled tricycle driver blaring the horn. Classes have been suspended for a week now for our school Santa Madalene HighSchool an extension of Our Lady of Grace Parish Church was busy making preparations for the evacuation town from Mount Pinatubo's predicted eruption. Small Philippine flags stuck on its windows remind us of the valiant battles fought by our forefather to achieve Phillippine independence today.
A week after my brother left the first sighting of the eruption occurred and a day after a smartly dressed news anchor nonchalantly reported it even adding that they will set camp near the active volcano to bring us updates.
One night father showed a Letter from the mayor announcing of evacuations but since our town was never mentioned and having the dormant Mt. Arayat stand in between Mt. Pinatubo our quaint little town giving us confidence that no urgency is necessary. "Let the younger have her tantrums the older brother here will calm it for us" Inday Lo our maid once said putting the lit head of the cigarette in her mouth puffing smoke like a dismissive volcano herself.
Until a representative of the Philippine Institute of Volcanology and Seismology visited. Mr. John Balasta who was driving around the northern regions from Baliuag City to Tarlac arrived in our town. It was my father who welcomed him that day.
Siesta is the time after lunch that kids are supposed to sleep to be strong and smart as the adults who always repeat. Three hours of living out the bachelor's nostalgia. A kids' free afternoon to do what they like without the constraints of being a model guide for children to follow or other parents to judge.
Santa Faustina is a town founded on serenity. I would have believed that our ancestors were pilgrims vowed to silence and calmness. Since civil servants honor traditions, they too start the day afternoon lunch. After mother turned on her Spanish telenovelas I escaped and dashed to the barangay hall to see the messenger of the government speak in front of the officials. It is a testament to the resiliency of progress over the obstacles of upkeep. Imagine your very first drawing of a house; a two-story box with four windows, a door in the middle and a semi triangular roof. Replace the flowers with worn-out plastic chairs, blackie the dog with a delirious look security officer, the chimney with a bent antenna, the broccoli looking tree a flag pole and color its walls with the Crayola that no one used; a mix of flesh highlighted with faint violet. A nailed signboard reads BRGY HALL of Santa Faustina. The entrance ticket was worth one packed lunch to Kuya Joel the disjointed faced guard. I watched from the adjacent room reserved for security personnel.
After the monotonous discussion of livestock exchange, inheritance, insurgents from the mountains and land disputes. Mr. John was given an opportunity to present. His message was what you would expect from a man of the state. As he spoke I witness the concern in his hoarse voice but an unhindered enthusiasm glowed in his eyes! The shy Volcano just realized she could sing soprano. Enthralled by her newfound talent she's been practicing. The ground trembles in her voice and when rehearsals are done the stage will be the Philippines and her audience the world.
They added an agenda, 9th: the evacuation. The plan was simple. Look for the widest space with the most accesses to the road, the open park beside the Church. Next, a method to move the people? Public vehicles. How much time will be needed to do all these? Three to four days from the start of the operation the next day. Approved; applause, pats on the back, room temperature gins, cases of beer, still warm home-cooked food are distributed and a generous offering from my father a whole pot pig roasted over the fire, Lechon. We are a hospitable race and a guest must drown in our trait. He left our town with a belly full and a face reddened. The gathering continued till early next day.
On its first day of implementation Mang Lando, our driver brings me to school we pass by the Barangay hall every day. He abruptly stops in front of the caricatured house as my Father hails him down. He shuffled towards us like in one of Romero's zombie movies turned comedy. Dragging himself using the bullbars of the Patrol as a guide laughing and shouting at the people as drunk as him at the door of the building for how long I do not know. I stumbled to Mang Lando's steering wheel pressed the horn even with the isolated cabin of the car muting most of the loud hoot it still blared so I could not image how father composed himself so quick. It was Mang Lando who was more frightened with an indescribable red face than father who just looked at me and gives me an OK sign, truly the elixir of warriors. Another round of hysterics ensued. A sober man finds a way to challenge the world in all degrees of manner. A drunk man punches it.
I was seated at the back of the Patrol behind the driver side father steps in the front passenger seat or tries as he almost fell, laughed went out again shouted more indistinguishable slurs. I learned new profanities that day. "Pa!" I shouted he looked at me his eyes loose and watery "Ay sorry, going to school?" he looked at his watch but I doubt he saw the time. He was red as a tomato and smelled of rancid vinegar. I nodded harshly and opened my window to vent out the mustering air in the car glancing at the disheveled live display of the Barangay organizational chart; Capitan Enrico "Kiko", Council Rodel, councillors A, Mang B, until Tito G and a dozen or so zombified baranagay police, tanods as drunk as my Father who was now snoring loudly. I stuck my tongue out to all of them. This seems to only amuse them.
Day two: I and Jin my close friend/accomplice met after another successful break. It was a Wednesday the farm produce had to be prepared for Thursday's market pick up. Best time of the week to roam unobstructed since everybody is busy. There were still no announcements from the Barangay.
Day three: Bananas, Rice, Potatoes, coconut, carrots, and other sacked goods were loaded to jeepneys. That night we gorged on the leftover fruits and finished with the famous caramelized Saba of Manang Elen!
Day four: the jeepneys returned and everybody drunk and ate to the earnings sold. Mother scolded me that night for she knew last Wednesday I did not sleep that I'll be a dwarf and a mananagal will take me that night to guarantee a traumatic childhood.
Day five: the announcement was made after lunch over the Public speakers posted around the village. only two of the five relayed the message nearest to the barangay hall and by the entrance of the village. Not like anybody cared as most were in their siestas, fast asleep, resting at home or under a cool shadow tree.
Day six: Exodus 20:10 "but the seventh day is the Sabbath of the LORD your God. In it, you shall do no work: you, nor your son, nor your daughter, nor your male servant, nor your female servant, nor your cattle, nor your stranger who is within your gates."
Day seven: Capitan Kiko with the baranagay police, tanods went around town talking to jeepney drivers about the evacuation. That afternoon I saw Capitan Kiko talking to my father exasperated. "People asked about where and if the volcano will hit us but mostly they just want to sit and eat with us. I told them this is urgent". He did not join us for dinner that night. He was stuffed he said.
Day eight: the baranagay officials still drove around now in teams of three each with a photocopy of the official papers explaining the plan. Capitan Kiko did not join he had constipation Mang Lando said.
Day nine: the baranagay officials continued to drive around but now with the help of other folks in teams of four or five each with a photocopy of the official paper. Capitan Kiko still did not join.
Day ten: the first of eleven jeepneys maneuvers into the park. To the dismay of the groundskeeper who wasn't informed blocking the way cursing. I saw Capitan Kiko again in the park that night surrounded by people handing out colas and deep-fried sugar-coated banana in spring roll wrapper, Turon.
It took another two days before most of the people acknowledged the evacuation itself. I'm setting a gap between disregard and indecision with people.
YOU ARE READING
1991 (work in progress)
Historical Fiction(As a working title and my very first attempt to write in an eventual continuity change is expected and truths seen too late will be present. To clarify I intent to solidify the characters of the people I've enjoyed writing about I will try in my a...
