Strong house

LAST Wednesday night, the lights in Camp Seven went out at about 11 in the evening after the sound of something exploding on Kennon Road, most probably some electrical thing or other, giving in to the wind that was picking up speed by then. By 1:00 a.m. of the next day, typhoon Lawin had obviously hit land, and Baguio was well within the storm’s 800 kilometer diameter.

If you are from Baguio, you are totally used to storms raging through town with a vengeance, dumping water with fury and bringing swirling winds that pull off roofs without mercy. So when a typhoon is about to hit, you know what to do: stock up on candles, canned food, batteries.

You have the canals cleared, tether to the ground what might fly off, stay home, and say your prayers.

When the news says that the signal over Benguet is first number 1, then number 2, then number 3 and heading for 4, you join the prayer brigade asking that the typhoon dissipate, albeit praying by texting. By 1 a.m. of Thursday, my house was all set for Lawin to hit.

The prayers had worked. The night wasn’t too bad. Yes, there was a lot of water, but it flowed away from the house and down our road. Said road, prone to breaking when strong typhoons hit, did not break at all.

The winds were, for those accompanying a super typhoon, kind.

By mid-morning of Thursday, it was like just a rainy day with the sun even peeping out from behind the storm. By afternoon, as I’m pretty certain many people were, I was impatiently waiting for Beneco to restore electricity to the city.

It is Friday afternoon as I write this, and a Beneco crew is in my very neighborhood doing their post storm thing. The sun is out, classes are on (haha), and I thank God for the strong house that is Baguio. We didn’t have it too bad, methinks, because we do what we should and can during a storm, and ask for the divine power of God to do the rest. Like dissipating a super typhoon.

Hello, sunshine!-- from Sun.Star Baguio