First person ‘I was there when Taal erupted’

Last Jan. 12 started like any ordinary Sunday. We – my husband Jovel and I – left our house in Pasig after lunch to attend a relative’s wedding in Tagaytay. It was a smooth drive going to Tagaytay and we were ready to enjoy the wedding, the food, and the music. Between 3 to 4 p.m., things started to change. When I looked up, something was “wrong” in the sky. Though the wedding venue was not anywhere near the volcano, we can hear some rumblings from afar. This was not an ordinary Tagaytay weekend, I told myself.

Soon, my fears were validated. Social media was on fire, announcing the eruption of Taal Volcano. The wedding proceeded as planned and it was such a beautiful experience amid the anxiety and uncertainty of that moment.

After the wedding ceremony, we decided to wait for the rain to stop because ash was already falling everywhere. Jovel went to the parking area to check on our car. With light rain, the ash that landed on the cars became mud. It was hard to walk as ash continued to blanket everything.

We decided to wait until after the reception to give more time for the rain to stop. But trying to get out of the parking lot was impossible - ash completely covered our windshield and there was simply no way to see where we were going. The mud also turned the roads slippery and visibility was so low. We decided it was risky to go back to Manila amid the situation.

Jovel’s family in Batangas gave us a bed to rest for the night. We woke up almost every hour because of strong quakes and sounds coming from Taal. Even though it was far from us, its eerie sound reached us and I was praying so hard to ask God to keep my family safe. Earlier, I had a heartbreaking phone call with my son Anton who asked: "Mama, are you safe?” I can’t contain my emotions after that.

When you're a parent, no matter how dangerous the roads are and the conditions seem to be, all you really want to do is go home to your children.

The next day, I woke up to all this gray (top photo). We all survived that night when Taal decided to “rain on our parade.” It was a surreal experience. As we headed back to Manila, I saw the sight of endless gray. Color was “erased” from the homes, flowers, stalls, and signs. It was all ash, mud, and dust. I looked up and the sun was shining, peeking through heavy clouds. I know we will rise again.

‘When you’re a parent, no matter how dangerous the roads are and the conditions seem to be, all you really want to do is go home to your children.’