It is so heartbreaking. Last weekend I did not even read the papers and surf the news about that killer mudslide in Southern Leyte, except for some vital information like the death toll, etc.
But this noon while waiting for my computer to start I browsed the Philippine Star and there I saw the story of this 35-year-old Fil-Am who came all the way from Las Vegas after hearing the news that his barangay, Guinsaogon, was wiped out.
He has 10 relatives there. His grandfather, mom, sis, bro, niece, according to that report, are still not in sight. This man even helped in the rescue operation, manually digging the spot he remembered was the place where their house was, in all hopes that somewhere down there members of his family are still alive.
Three days (as of yesterday) after the incident, I think hoping to dig more survivors is like hoping for a corruption-free country. Let’s face it days have already passed and it seems like rescuers are having a difficult time with mud that’s practically swallowing them. And 30-40 feet of it has covered that entire barangay. That is about 5-6 people deep. Certainly an uneasy task to delve for bodies.
But, it’s not wrong to hope. While reading that piece of news (for the last days I was reading the “hard news” of that tragedy) I was close to tears. It’s a case of helplessness. It’s like you want to do something but you just can’t. I don’t want to know what those people down there, while still alive, had been doing to save their lives, and later on died while trying.
Last night, I contacted our photographer, who was sent there, to ask him if the school, wherein over 200 students and some teachers are believed to be burried alive, was already unearthed.
He only told me the place already smelled awful.
I know.
Well, there is always a miracle.
And I hope it will happen soon.
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