In the morning of the rain, I was stranded in a tiny building along Commonwealth Avenue.

I was there with my sister for a seminar that, like many other engagements that Saturday, would never materialize. I left the house early, thinking it was just one of those rainy mornings where some flooding might delay engagements, but otherwise nothing out of the ordinary.

But it wasn’t.

By lunchtime it was apparent that none of us would be able to leave. We ordered food from the nearest Jollibees, but they would call back half an hour later to tell us that they couldn’t deliver. It became apparent that we were to be stuck there without food or water. I was hanging around the lobby then, and I heard a young boy cry to his mom that he hadn’t eaten breakfast. My own stomach rumbled as I was reminded that I hadn’t, either.

I didn’t even get to have a glass of water.

It was at half past two when I decided to take my chances. I borrowed an umbrella from security and walked to the overpass to see if TechnoHub, the nearest commercial establishment, was reachable by car. My pants and shoes were dripping sponges by the time I got back, but that was the price I paid to be able to get something to eat. Along with an old friend who would not be able to go home that night, we got on the Vios and drove to the hub.

Fortunately, traffic stopped just right before the entrance. After parking, we stormed out of the car and into the nearest KFC. By three, we had received our orders — we ordered a lot — and thirty minutes later, they would run out of food. We moved downstairs to the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf for a place to camp out. But at the counter they told us that they were only serving fruit juice and bottled water. Apparently the water supply of the entire establishment had been cut as a precautionary
measure, forcing most restaurants to close early and all toilets to cease functioning. But at least we had somewhere to sit.

We subsisted on drinks and junk food from Mini-Stop, but the situation was becoming more difficult. No article of clothing on my body was not wet with rain. My cellphone was dead. The girls had it worse as they both badly needed to use the ladies’ room. But my sister called home, and Mom told her that the lights and water were out. I guess it was better that we were stranded.

Thankfully, an hour later they would restore the water supply, the girls were able to pee and I was able to get some coffee (so we wouldn’t feel guilty about staying and not ordering.) Dad would arrive at six-thirty; he was stuck on the road since eleven. By this time the downpour had become a drizzle and we were just waiting for the roads to clear. We had dinner and bought Mom spaghetti before Dad and my sister left. I stayed behind, partly because I had to use the internet, and partly because our friend would have to wait for her ride there.

At half past 10, Dad would call to tell me that electricity and internet were back up at home. Around half an hour, Coffee Bean would close and my friend’s ride would arrive. I left TechnoHub a few minutes after, and I couldn’t have been more glad to be back on the wheel.

On the way home, I passed a number of unusual sights. Deformed iron fences. The collapsed trunk of a titanic tree. Someone’s underwear on the drainage. A sofa in the middle of the street. A dead dog no one had bothered to pick up.

I went straight to the bathroom when I arrived. I finished bathing at around midnight and plopped down on the sofa. I was exhausted beyond belief, but I could not go to sleep. The radio was on, and it was telling stories of principals without houses, of actresses stuck on roofs. The television was on, showing pictures of entire cities submerged as if civilizations lost to the realms of myth. There were calls for missing people all around.

Online, a friend linked me to a video of a van sinking deep into an excavation site. He told me they weren’t sure if there were people inside.

And there I was, seated on my sofa, pajama-clad and newly-bleached, worrying about my sore throat, my wet clothes, and my cancelled arrangements. I realized how thankful I was that my whole family was safe, that my house was not submerged, and that I got stranded in a place with food and electricity. These are times when you cannot ask for much more than that.

(The author is a sophomore at the Ateneo de Manila University. Visit http://james.soriano-ph.com, or mail me at james@soriano-ph.com)