Caught by Surprise

Whether you’re at the comfort of your own homes or in the field, Pablo caught us by surprise. Wherever you’re from Mindanao, especially in Davao Region, the presence of Pablo felt through strong winds either shocked or frightened all of us.

In Tagum, Davao del Norte’s capital city, residents including me woke up to the sounds of rustles and whistles made by strong winds accompanied by light rains. It was a pre-dawn phenomenon, when, instead of the sun to wake us up on that fateful Tuesday morning, the wrath of Pablo scared us to death.

That morning was truly strange and horrifying due to the fact that this part of the country is never battered by storms. Freedom from typhoons is one of nature's promises to Mindanao. That statement no longer remains true as a changing climate forced a paradigm shift in paths of storm. Time has really changed. First there was Sendong last year and now here's Typhoon Pablo—described by the government as the strongest storm to hit the Philippines this year—which joined the ranks as one of the worst pre-Christmas disasters in recent memory.

During the storm, I left home at around eight in the morning to join my officemates in documenting the path of destruction in my beloved city. In the succeeding hours, with all of us soaked in wet, we saw for ourselves the fierce weather phenomenon that fell down huge trees along the highways, shattered hectares of banana plantations, rose water levels of the Hijo River to critical point, left several properties damaged and collapsed electrical supply. As the night came, my hometown was wrapped in total darkness transforming itself from a boom town to a ghost town for a night.

Palm trees brave Pablo's winds at the height of the storm. Taken about 8:30-9:00 AM by Leo Timogan.

You could only watch in despair as your hometown seemed like a disaster zone for a while. In the city’s aviary zone inside the well-known Energy Park, winds knocked down trees that provide shade for both nature-loving citizens and the caged birds. The sight of people fleeing their homes, carrying their hard-earned properties while braving knee-deep floods and intermittent rains would forever be etched in our memories. We are not used to this. How dare you, Pablo.

We learned, as the floods of information came in the following day, what we experienced at home was just a microcosm of the bigger path of destruction Pablo left in our neighboring towns and provinces. In Compostela Valley and in Davao Oriental, many families are left homeless. Casualties rose to record numbers. Millions of properties are destroyed. Agriculture sector totally wrecked.

Last night, thousands of residents of New Bataan sought temporary shelter in Tagum's Rotary Park. Seeing them on a sunny day 48 hours after that fateful Tuesday storm is sad.

Our hearts go out to those who lost their loved ones, their homes and that strand of hope. Our boundaries, I realized, are just geographical lines.. This storm made us a one sharing and caring community.

Pablo really caught us by surprise. Home is where the heart is. But for many of us here, home is where hearts break.

Helping to clear the road from a fallen tree at Bincungan, Tagum City. Photo by Leo Timogan

Along Mankilam, Tagum City

The gate-keeper of DPWH briefed us about the alarming level of Hijo River in Barangay Apokon shortly before 12 noon. During that time, water level was at 6.21 meters. When we went back at around 4 PM, it was 8 meters which mean it's already in its critical level. Photo by Kelvin Palermo

Residents on their way to the evacuation centers, escaping the rising water levels of the Hijo River. These waters came from the uplands of the Province of Compostela Valley, one of the hardest-hit province during Typhoon Pablo. Photo by Leo Timogan