typhoon glenda a

July 16, 2014 would have passed on as an ordinary day although there were announcements that a strong typhoon was already on its way.  There were even no tell -tale signs that an inclement weather was approaching since the sun was shining through and no dark clouds hovering up above.  Government had declared that classes were suspended, a signal for students to flock the nearest malls in the area.  The skies were clear anyway.

Time also to take down notes mostly jokes which I intend to share to my classmates in a mini reunion we planned a couple of weeks ago.  Time to reminisce and again take note of those instances I had with my classmates to add color and nostalgia.  Everything was prepared.  I never even allowed my government function to contribute wrinkles of apprehension on my face.  It must be flawless so that I would be able to project a stress free composure in front of my accomplished friends.  I even wrote on my Facebook timeline that I would be in my inspired poise in their presence.

I was very excited to see up close my childhood crushes!  It was some kind of “back to the future” thing, a time machine when I would experience an adventure almost similar with that which the star-crossed lovers encountered in the movie “Somewhere!”  I do not mean that the reunion implied a conference among romantics, but rather a congress of scholars poring over nostaligic matters.  I was recalling those days when I would volunteer to our adviser that my pretty classmates be spared from cleaning the room.  Their nice dresses and shoes should not be soiled by unnecessary movements, even by rough play.  I would plead our adviser that I would rather be assigned as permanent cleaner, one who will be perpetual scrubber of floor instead of the girls in the classroom.  I succeeded.  My classmates had stable days without sweat, in my case, I became the teacher’s pet with good grades because of industry even if I had never read the lesson for months.  Industry is a universal language in school.

And then, it happened.  At around 2AM, shrieking of metal and lumber joints grew louder by the minute.  There was no longer electricity.  The eerie sound of wind bashing the roofing sheets, intermittent whipping of twigs dropping from each side, there were whooshing and whirring.  Winds packing more than 150 kilometer per hour continuously battering in circular motion.  I thought that I was already in the eye of a giant hurricane, a colossal tornado!

Nature’s fury was imminent at that time.  It had no respect for obstacle.  It proceeded where it was headed.  If an object was not aerodynamic, then it was goodbye.  Physics was everywhere.  It was the only law in operation.  I could no longer reach out to technology.  All my electronic gadgets went haywire.  There was no way I can get out of the fix.  I merely had only one option: to pack my things in plastic so that if worst should happen, as when the roof of my quarters would cave in or be blown out, my personal things would not be soaked in flood waters and damaged.  Meanwhile, I must find a good shelter to keep my fate from being challenged by the gods of calamity.  I tell you, it was never fun if one is half awake and in pitch darkness!

The thought of missing the reunion came to mind.  All the preparations, the notes, the excitement that went with it, would be kaput, would go pfffft.  Nobody messes around with nature, not even the best well laid plan.  Katrina in USA made its government look like a tribal flock.  Yolanda in the Visayas made mince meat out of government leaders.  Fukushima in Japan became virtually a ghost town amidst a challenging tsunami directed against technologically savvy Japan.

In seven hours, I have to endure nature’s fury.  After the period, the whole place, my place, was in total disarray.  I could only reflect on what happened on those areas hit by an equally devastating typhoon.  After an hour, there was total silence.  According to news bulletin:  “54 died, 100 wounded and P867 Million worth of infrastructure was damaged and P2 Billion agricultural crops were destroyed.”  If I will volunteer to submit my own estimation on what happened to my things, the amount might spike a little, but the ruin it brought into my commitment, to attend the mini reunion, spelled a disastrous content, if not a historical nightmare.

And then calls for rescue and meetings became a blaring invitation from my agency.  As a senior officer, I must get into the loop of action.  I must be there where the action is.  I must contribute whatever it is that should be conducted.  In other words, ignore the universe and concentrate on the world of prison.

That did it.  Days on end, I must be near the policy maker.  The curse of a high office.  Forget your person and act as if one is never troubled.

On the whole, I failed to see my classmates, and worst, I had a futile moment regaining an important segment in my life to have a fleeting instance with the prettiest classmates I had once upon a time!




About vjtesoro

A perpetual student of Corrections

Posted on July 19, 2014, in Uncategorized and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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