Stormstruck

I could hear the wind in the background as I spoke with my mother on the cellphone last Saturday.

Typhoon Frank (Fengshen) has just taken out a portion of the roof of our old family house in Aklan, and the flood water has reached the sacks of rice in the storage.

My mother and her kasambahays has taken refuge in the living room, the strongest part of the house.

"It's almost like Undang, anak..." she told me before we ended the call. She had to conserve her cellphone battery -- no one knows how long the blackout will last.

That had me worried.

The name Undang has become legendary among Aklanons and Capiznons old enough to remember the devastation it brought upon the island of Panay.

According to this, Typhoon Undang (Agnes), which occurred from Nov. 3 to 6, 1984, had a maximum recorded wind speed of 230 kph, with death toll reaching over 800 and damage estimated at P1.9B.

Before I came upon these figures, I only know Undang the way I remember it as a child.

It was one night and one day of strong wind, rain, and flood. The house was badly damaged at the first onslaught -- most of the windows broke, the kitchen roof collapsed, and the old mango tree in our backyard got uprooted and hit the side of the house, damaging the wall and one of the main pillars.

With the entire house at risk of collapsing, we had to open the rest of the windows and the main doors to let lessen the wind's impact.

And so for one night and one day, my brother, sister, and I, wearing helmets and thick jackets, watched the full fury of the storm through the open doors and windows.

And what a scene it was. We saw a person getting lifted off the ground and thrown back by the wind. Coconut trees were twisting themselves neatly onto each other like pilipit (a native delicacy). And the wind played on and on like a symphony.

It was surreal. Almost beautiful -- because we never felt scared at that time. Maybe because we were too young to care about just how grave the situation was. When Undang passed, for us kids back then, the whole town became a wonderful playground of fallen trees, and the air was so cold and had the crisp scent like that of freshly cut grass.

Yesterday my mother texted me some updates: a few old windows were broken, portions of the roof got ripped off, parts of the house are rain and flood-damaged, the old mango tree got uprooted (again), the town plaza and main streets are blocked by fallen trees.

The town of Kalibo suffered more because of the flooding.

News are still coming in, and apparently the destruction left by Typhoon Frank in Iloilo and Capiz are more severe. And many are still missing from the capsized Sulpicio Lines ferry near Romblon (related news here).

Here's praying that help reaches those who need it the soonest.