Being back in Tacloban is an experience. Coming here I didn’t know if I would have culture shock this trip around. I certainly didn’t the first time I arrived last November after SuperTyphoon Haiyan ravaged the country. Yet as with the first, the same holds true with the second. I actually felt more out of sorts in the crowded New Yorkian atmosphere of Manila.
Here, not at all.
It’s like trying on a familiar pair of shoes and then going for a long walk before you even realize you’ve left the comfort of your house. In part, I imagine, because you are greeted with hugs and smiles by friends, both old and new, along the way. And raiding the Department of Health for medical supplies before you’ve even dropped off your luggage at home helps in getting you back in the swing of it all.
Things have changed in the past year. That much is evident. I see locations that I had once visited, then serving as evacuation centers, over crowded with displaced populations, starving, in desperate need of the basic essentials of life such as clean water. These places are now vacant testaments that people and life have moved on in one fashion or another. It is good to take note of what can happen in such a short amount of time when one is resilient, determined and willing to repeatedly put in a hard day’s work.
Shiny new roofs reflect the sunlight along the drive through town. Bright new cars are seen here and there mixed among the familiar sights of trikes and jeepneys that once dominated the roads. Stores now sell mundane, non-vital supplies which denotes that the economy is returning to a state of disposable income. Oh, and there’s a little thing called electricity…and running water.
Some things, thankfully, have not changed. Kids still abound with energy, running through the streets, greeting you with questions. Driving is still chaotic with an “every man/woman/child for themselves” attitude, but never in a rude, in-your-face type of way. Smiles followed by ma’am and sir are still the default greeting across the generations. Here people still pitch in, regardless of age or size. Excuses of I’m too tired or It’s not my job are non-existent. It is simply the way of life as evidenced by the sight of young girls traveling along, arm in arm.
I see the I (heart) Tacloban signs scattered throughout the city, and know it to still be true for me as well.
There is a great deal of work yet to be done. Magina tells me of a number of projects over the (excellent) dinner at Giuseppe’s Italian restaurant. I am not disheartened by the enormity of the need, as I believe it all possible, nothing left undone, for in such a short amount of time as 48 hours, I am once again reminded of what I consider to be the greatest strength of the Filipino people —
They are the quintessential definition of community for they know what many of the rest of us too easily and too often forget:
We are all in this together.
David