Today in History: My Dad's Sacrifice (The 1990 Earthquake)

July 16, 1990.
The morning started on a regular ritual. Wake up, take a bath, change clothes, go to school. I was in 2nd grade back then. My brother was just 3 years of age.

My dad prepared to go to work, 20 kilometers away from where we live. He needs to catch the company service since it only comes to pick up workers once in every 3 or 4 hours. Two of my friends are already outside our corridor waiting for me since we need to walk few meters from our house to school. My mom is getting ready for a convention in Baguio. She will be bringing my younger brother since no one will baby sit for him.

It was 4 PM when we came home from school. My classmate, who's also a neighbor, has the same routine as I do. We bring out the dishes from early morning rush so we can wash it. Mind you, we were living in a bank house where kitchen sink and bathrooms are shared.

We were in the kitchen when we heard rumble from upstairs and the ground began to shake. We ran outside. People were crowding the streets. I'm with my neighbors and cousins who were just nearby. My parents haven't gone home yet. For the first time I felt I was alone.

After few hours, I can see my dad walking towards me, I ran and embraced him. He carried me in his arms and asked, "How are you?", "Are you hurt?", "What were you doing when you felt the earthquake?", "Is your mom and brother home yet?". I cried. I see his tears trying to come out but for some reason he was struggling to hide it. Now, at least I felt secured. 

These were the times when cellphones were not yet accessible by anyone else. Phones in our place were only made for local phone numbers. That was 3 or 4 digit dial to call the police, the clinic, the fire station, the barangay hall, etc. These were also the times when the roads were dusty and not cemented as we see right now.

Though we were advised to camp outside due to aftershocks, My dad and I preferred to sleep at home as what our neighbors did. He brought down every single item that can be broken and we slept in the living room.

The next day, I saw him talking to his cousin to look after me. He needs to go to Baguio to look for my brother and my mom. No vehicles risk to travel that day. No vehicles can even reach Philex due to landslides and falling rocks.

Despite the advisory that travelling maybe dangerous, my dad along with 2 others pushed on. They walked 20 kilometers from 745ml (yes that is the name of the place) to Philex. And trekked another 34 kilometers from Philex to Baguio. 

Road from Philex to Baguio during the 1990 earthquake.
This was taken after the clearing operation.

He searched every relative he knows from Baguio to Trinidad, every hospital, every morgue, even the famous Burnham Park to look for my brother and mother. After 3 days, he was able to find them and was able to come home. 

These are few of the memories I had where my dad would sacrifice for the sake of his family. And with these, I miss him more.. 

The Sad Truth

It was August 5, 2012. I agreed to meet some of my high school friends over Gateway Cubao. Though the weather is not that good, I still, was able to go. For one, we haven't seen each other for a long time. Second, I might as well get away once in a while from the usual routine I have everyday. And thirdly, at least the people I'll be around this time were my friends for a long time.

I was late for about an hour. (same as last year hehehe). Anyway, I saw Lorna and Apple chatting while patiently waiting for others to come. All the while, with our calculation, there should be at least 6 or 7 of us however, others decline the last minute maybe due to the weather or some personal reasons. JP came latter despite the flood building in front of his boarding house.

We had late lunch. Or early dinner. Or whatever you call a meal eaten between 3:40 in the afternoon that lasted until 10 in the evening.

We chatted greeting each other and asking how our other colleagues has been after a long time. We had news for others, unfortunately none for some.

One of our saddest topic was the status of education we witnessed. JP, one our our schoolmate who didn't graduate along with us shared his funny experience with his drafting class in his high school. Apple on the other hand shared a story about what she witnessed while she was taking classes here in Manila.

We laugh while we remember our Home Economics teachers and our projects in Elementary. We were trained how to sew and cook, while the guys were taught how to do basic carpentry and electricity.

In high school, our classes has technical courses such as computer classes automotive, electricity, carpentry, sewing, knitting, cooking and the like. Though you're not going to have all the courses but you've got to choose one that you like.

Out of Philex Mining Corporation is a real "culture shock". There are sights that we never witnessed and experiences that we had never imagined.

In our school, our gates are close at 7:30 in the morning with the start of Pambansang Awit and recitation of Panatang Makabayan and classes end until 4 or 5 in the afternoon. Not only that, how can one forget the times you would need to sing the National Anthem 3 or 4 times on the school grounds while the sun is up when our Assistant Principal is not contented.

Elementary classes here in Manila lasted only for 3 hours :( . I can't imagine how 9 subjects in one day would be incorporated in 3 hours. Kids here does not even know how to sing the simple national anthem and how to recite the pledge. But they can recite teach me how to doughie without any ado. Ironic but true.

Whew. I'm still glad I was a part of Philex Mining Elementary School and Saint Louis High Philex. where classrooms are below basketball courts but we enjoyed the air of mother nature.