People ready to take initiative

A commentary in the Inquirer, “Coping, not looting” (Opinion, 11/18/13), is one of the most insightful articles to come out in the aftermath of Supertyphoon “Yolanda/Haiyan.”  The initiative to speak up to put things in their proper perspective—how things truly are—is a huge step for a usually reticent people.

We don’t unnecessarily impose ourselves on others. Insecure people who we often think of as our “betters” have often abused this retiring trait. We have allowed them to negatively define who we are, to our long-term detriment.

When I traveled to Kalibo to check out our farm on Nov. 12, the Tuesday after Yolanda hit Aklan province, Rissa, my sister-in-law’s help, kept me company at night (there was no electricity). I asked her how her family members were, and she said she was able to visit them the day before.

A 30-minute journey took her two-and-a-half hours to make. After reaching the main town of Libacao, she walked another three hours, climbing over fallen trees, to get to where her house, which was completely blown away, had stood. She had a tearful reunion with her four children in her parents’ house (with the roof blown away, too). They described how they had left their own house, taking a trapal, how they walked to the open fields in the strong wind and rain to avoid being hit by falling trees. They were wet, cold and tired, but at least they emerged safe.

My sister-in-law was so surprised to see Rissa back at 9:30 that same night.  Rissa also recounted how she and Romy, the all-around farm hand, saw the trees falling around the farm during Yolanda’s fury.  Romy only left to visit his family a day after the typhoon. He, too, came back and recounted that their roof had been blown away and that his family had taken shelter in the cemetery near their house.

So many things struck me about Rissa’s and Romy’s respective stories—that they did not abandon their amo (employers) for their own families, leaving to find out how their families were only after their amo were secure, and even returning right away.  And what I cannot even begin to fathom is this: Rissa would not even have told me what she and her family had gone through if I did not ask. She asked nothing from me. Is it stoicism? It is not cynicism or anything negative, because in the dark there was only gentleness in her voice.  This sharing (and only when I would ask) by other farm staff was made in the same vein: No one asked for anything.

I left on Thursday morning for Manila. Before leaving, I looked for Rissa (a single mom) to give her some monetary help, but was told that she had just left to visit her family again.

Last All Souls Day weekend (before Yolanda hit), we were in Kalibo with my husband’s family. We basically made do in our farmhouse that is being renovated.  I was so fascinated with the temporary kitchen we had set up.  I arranged it in such a way that the sink didn’t face the wall but abutted a counter-table. Dinner is always a big affair, and used plates were landing on the temporary front bar table to be picked up immediately for washing just across from it.

Another person would take the washed plates and arrange these neatly on the other side. It was just a little adjustment and wordlessly, things were flowing smoothly with no instruction from me.  They got the message intuitively and were helping each other automatically.

For me, this seamless efficient flow contrasted so vividly with all the stumbling blocks and barriers to entry that we impose on so many levels in our society.  Incivility and unfairness characterize the procedures and practices in urban areas, which in turn are exported to the provinces, usually when malls open, which in turn become the standard to be followed by other establishments.  It is a replicating cycle of incivility and put-down that fosters more poverty and negativity.

If we accept that everything is interconnected, it should not come as a surprise that if society fosters negativity and put-down, we get more negativity and poverty ultimately triumphs.

In the aftermath of Yolanda, the rest of the world has stepped up and opened their hearts to us.  Isn’t this the right time, while we are united as a people as we cope with our shared devastation, to reassess the imposed false premise we have of ourselves? Isn’t it time to let civility reign at last? Ordinary people are, as a whole, good, noble and kind (still a mystery for me because of society’s general indifference to them in normal times).

Why should the insecurity of the few who can call the shots because of their stature and money define us negatively?

Jacqueline Cancio Vega is an architect, interior designer, planner, and farmer growing high-value vegetables in Aklan. She says she has pursued her interest in what makes for real community since college.