The kitchen in the author's Quezon City residence were destroyed by the floods brought about by typhoon Ondoy. (Photo by CZARINA NICOLE O. ONG)

Nobody saw Ondoy coming. Last September 27, thousands of Filipinos were rendered homeless after one of the worst typhoons to hit the country brought in heavy rains causing floods that left most of Metro Manila underwater. Images of flooded streets and water rising up to the rooftops of houses are all over the newspapers and television. This writer’s home in Quezon City was among those ravaged by the floods.

Our house is no mansion, but it was a warm, cozy haven which has been kept extremely neat by my mother. In fact, my mother is a known whiz when it comes to cleaning the house. You could imagine her dismay when she saw what Ondoy did to our house.

Dad was able to save our furniture and little knick-knacks, such as some of Mom’s Coca-Cola memorabilia and miniature Christmas houses, which are on display all year round. Some appliances, such as the refrigerator was brought up to the second floor of our house. But the rice cooker, microwave oven, and kitchen utensils were totally damaged.

We also had to contend with the mud. No matter how much you scrub the house with soap and water, the odor of mud and dirty water remains. You could spray Lysol all over the house, and the foul smell would still prevail. We were told it would take months to get the smell out.

White has always been known to make a room appear larger and give the impression of brightness, but when it comes to floods, the once-pure white walls have become a nuisance. The white walls have become clear canvasses for dirt and what-not’s, such as wall bubbles and visible cracks.

And the ceilings! The floods had reached the wood-covered ceiling of the ground floor. The wood has bent and half the ceiling dangles in mid-air. The first floor is almost bare, save for the scattered trapo and newspapers, as well as the overturned chairs. Empty plastic drawers are lined up for washing, not to mention the cats’ cages before rust gets to it.

While our second floor was untouched by the flood waters, it is jam-packed with stuff from the first floor. There is actually a section in our house devoted for books, and my Mom’s romance novels as well as my collection of historical and young adult fiction are kept there. During that Saturday afternoon, in a moment of panic, my Dad grabbed those books from the bottom of the cabinet and piled them one on top of the other. The books are thankfully safe, but are now completely mixed up as to author and genre.

I sort through my precious books now and shudder at the thought of those novels I love destroyed. I actually have two action figures at home – that of Jane Austen and Twilight hero Edward Cullen. We displayed Jane Austen downstairs, safely encased. But the flood got to her, and now her case is destroyed and her pen is missing. Edward Cullen is safe, but his forever grim expression appears more disconcerting, as if sensing Austen’s loss.

I know there’s no sense mulling over things that have been lost, for there are other areas in the country which had it worse. But I know all victims share the same sentiment: It’s true our lives are important and God has been good to save us, but it’s still heartbreaking to see all things you’ve held dear now completely destroyed. And there’s really nothing left to do but accept what has happened, and piece by piece, slowly rebuild.

Dad plans to have the ground floor repaired next year, after the Christmas holidays. We don’t know how much it’s going to cost to make the house feel and look like the safe home we’ve lived in for so long. He’s still waiting for the cost estimate for repair of the two cars that were damaged by the flood. So for now, home for my parents and younger sister is the second floor. We’re coping and we’re also grateful we still have a roof over our heads.