Today was one of those bizarre days that are experienced in emergency service response work.Our morning started out early as we wove our way through the morning peak hour chaos heading for Quezon City and The Salvation Army's Divisional Office. It is from this office that the bulk of the response to typhoon Ondoy has been organised and it was here that we found the volunteers and officers, once again, after 9 days straight, packing food and loading a truck for delivery to a nearby evacuation camp. At the moment, because of the immediacy of the response the pack includes 5kg of rice, 5 cans of sardines and 5 packets of noodles. Hopefully in the next few days this will be expanded with the addition of a sleeping mat, blanket, water and a pillow.
From there we wove our way back toward the Central Business District, to Makati City, and the highly secure, plush 30th floor offices of the UNDP representative to the Philippines. Here, sitting in a climate controlled board room around a beautifully carved wooden table with amazing views of the Fort district we met with a number of key UN Agency officials and discussed the response activities of the Salvos and the role that we can play in future activities. We spoke about 3.5 Million people that are displaced, homeless and hungry - many still living in submerged neighbourhoods - refusing to leave home. We discussed the role of the international community, and faith based organisations like ours in complex humanitarian emergencies. It was all very civilised, academic and comfortable!
Two hours later, we were ushered through the guarded road barriers, past a canvas sign that proclaimed "Danger: Flood Area" and directed to park just as the water began to lap up against the wheels of the car. We had arrived in central Pasig. At the end of the palm tree framed road was the impressive facade of the Pasig City Offices - the only problem is that the road was not there.
There were hundreds of people were on their way to the market, or to their homes which were beyond the City Offices in anywhere between waist and chest high water. Enterprising young men had built floating 'craft' of all shapes and sizes and were charging to take residents into the market and their homes. There were impressive craft with cane lounge chairs, canoes, and cupboards - but the award for the most would have to go to the bath tub.
We walked as far as we could before we negotiated with a man to take us for a boat down Main Street, past the market and into the housing. People were smiling and laughing, calling out and asking, "Hey, Joe, what do you think of Pasig?" Our boat pusher, commented that 9 days ago people were frightened but today he said, "we smile, we joke, we laugh, what else can we do?"
Here, surrounded as far as I can see by 4' deep water children dive, swim and play, parents cook and clean, the market and some shops continue to do business, the garbage man tries to collect the floating garbage and the local barber cuts hair on the verandah of his shop. But amongst the smiles and laughter, I see eyes that are still frightened and confused, I see people that are worried. It's 9 days: the water remains and it's getting dirtier and smellier. Food comes, but only when a truck can get through, and even then not everyone receives a ticket to get it. It's only a matter of time before the sickness starts and everyone knows it.