Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Parallelism: ONDOY and ORMOC

First published by the
Philippine Daily Inquirer on April
21-22, 1992.
by HOWIE SEVERINO
ORMOC, Leyte — Five months
after the flood that claimed over
2,000 of its residents in 1991,
Isla Verde is hot and dry. On
both sides of the islet, the Anilao
River has become a harmless
stream. In the shade, half-naked
men talk idly about how the
water came and killed their
families.
On the morning of November 5,
1991, water from a heavy
rainfall roared down from the
surrounding hills carrying logs
and uprooted trees, and
engulfed Isla Verde and much of
Ormoc. Isla Verde used to be a
crowded community of about
2,500 before the great Ormoc
flood almost completely wiped it
out.
According to the remaining
residents of Isla Verde, only
about 200 people here survived.
Since then, the government has
said Isla Verde should never
have been inhabited in the first
place. But despite warnings that
it is one of the most dangerous
places in the city to live in, some
20 families have returned, along
with a few migrants to Ormoc
who were displaced by floods
elsewhere in Leyte. They say
their number is increasing.
Rosendo Lumanta, 57, a former
farmer who moved his family to
Isla Verde 30 years ago,
survived the big flood by
climbing a coconut tress after
the roof his family was standing
on was swept away. Twenty-
two other survivors had climbed
the same tree. His wife, a
daughter and tow grandchildren
couldn't hold on. They were
among the 2,300 or so dead
from Isla Verde alone, a sand
strip of land that divides The
Anilao River into two channels.
Like his other neighbors who
have returned, Rosendo believes
the tragedy was a freak that is
unlikely to happen.
A Warning to Other
Communities
The city government counted
4,875 dead in Ormoc, but
according to Mayor Victoria
Locsin, remains of bodies were
still found after the official count.
As one of the country's worst
natural disasters, the tragedy in
Ormoc has been invoked across
the nation as a warning to other
ecologically devastated
communities.
Here in Ormoc, however, most of
the survivors have been too
preoccupied with trying to piece
their lives together to heed any
words of caution. Finding the
evacuation camps too crowded
and resettlement slow, Lumanta
has returned to Isla Verde with
one daughter and her family.
"This is where my family died
and this is where I want to grow
old. I don't want to live
anywhere else." He says, wiping
his eyes with a dirty towel.
Isla Verde is only one of this
coastal city's many hazardous
areas, where the settlement of
people is prohibited by law.
Along riverbanks around the
city, where many residents were
swept away by rampaging
floodwaters, people are back.
"We have been discouraging
people not to move back there,
but they have been hard-
headed," says Dr. Gregorio
Yrastorza Jr., Ormoc councilor
and the chairman of the City
Disaster or Coordinating Council
(CDCC). "But you also can't tell
them to leave if you don't have
an alternative yet for families
living in high-risk areas."
The city planned to resettle 2,668
Ormoc families displaced by the
flood, and several hectares were
purchased for the purpose with
donations from private
organizations. But negotiations
for some of the land bogged
down because, city officials say,
some landowners raised the
price at the last minute. In one
instance, according to Yrastorza,
representatives of the Makati
Business Club were on the verge
of buying nearly eight hectares
of land about two kilometers
outside the city when the
owners abruptly jacked up the
price from P60 per square meter
to P65.
Even some flood victims who
have been offered new lots have
returned to rebuild their homes
on the old sites. "The
resettlement site is too small and
too crowded," says Alfred
Casicas, a father of four who
lives with his family on the
riverbank across from Isla Verde.
Even with the year's rainy
season only a few months away,
residents living in dangerous
areas tempered their fears with
a self-assurance that such a
tragedy could happen only once
in their lives. "What happened
here was a buhawi (whirlwind),"
says Jimmy Castillo, a resident of
Isla Verde. "It was very rare. It
never happened here before,
and it won't happen again."
A Disaster Waiting to Happen
Experts who have studied the
disaster disagree. The
environment of Ormoc is even
more critical now because of
what happened," says Rosalio
Goze, Eastern Visayas director
for the Department of
Environment and Natural
Resources (DENR) at the time of
the flood and the Manila-based
coordinator of the government's
Oplan Sagip Gubat (Operation
Save the Forest). "We could have
the same kind of disaster with
only half as much rain. And
remember, that part of the
country is hit by an average of
five typhoons a year. We can
never be sure that it won't
happen again."
Experts now say that even
before the flood, it should have
been obvious that Ormoc was a
natural disaster waiting to
happen. Located on the delta
where the Anilao and Malbasag
Rivers meet, Ormoc was
surrounded by ills that had been
cleared of all its vegetation to
make way for sugar cane. The
soil around Ormoc was also
naturally loose and unsuitable.
When heavy rain fell on the hills,
little of the water was absorbed
or held back by the watershed.
The rest poured into the city,
quickly overflowing the fragile
banks of the two rivers and
leaving no time for most people
to evacuate.
A DENR study points out that
with adequate forest cover on
the watershed, the flood would
have been no more than four
feet deep. The waters that killed
thousands rose ten feet in about
three hours.
Experts say the root causes of
the flashflood were man-made.
In particular, they cite the
conversion of forest lands into
sugar cane plantations, a process
that began in 1952. That was the
year when a proclamation by
then President Elpidio Quirino
reclassified all lands with less
than 18 degree slopes as
"alienable and disposable,"
meaning they could be privately
owned. But the conversion of
Ormoc's watershed from trees to
sugar accelerated and was
completed in the late 1970s
when world prices of sugar
peaked.
Tests by the DENR have shown
that soil planted to sugar cane
has a very low capacity for
absorbing water — much lower,
for example, than the soil
underneath cogon grass. Today,
according to records of the
DENR, nearly 100 percent of the
immediate watershed of Ormoc,
an area of 4,500 hectares, is
owned by six sugar-planting
families, including the
Larrazabals, the family of the
incumbent mayor, Victoria L.
Locsin.
Landowners as Part of Solution
But as the private landowners
are part of the problem, they are
also said to be part of the
solution. In separate reports on
the disaster, three government
line agencies and a US Agency
for International Development
(USAID) engineering team, in
addition to several private
organizations and consultants,
have all urged the immediate
reforestation of Ormoc's ruined
watershed. Environment officials
argue that since the watershed is
private land, only the
landowners can decide when
and where reforestations should
begin.
Yet there is no indication that
this task is being taken seriously
by either Ormoc's landed elite or
the city government. Says
Locsin: "The landowners are
waiting for the DENR to assist
them and call their attention."
DENR Secretary Fulgencio
Factoran Jr. insists, however, that
under the new local government
code, local officials must take the
lead in the city's reforestation
drive, while line agencies such as
his provide technical support.
"They (local officials) have more
power now to do something,"
says Factoran. "But if there is no
political will, wala."
National officials say the
problem in Ormoc is that the
landowners are reluctant to
convert profitable sugar lands
back to forest. "The economy
there depends on sugar," says
Rosalio Goze, the former DENR
director for Eastern Visayas. "But
it's a trade-off. The question
should be whether they want to
prevent a disaster or not."
City officials say it's not that
simple. "Of course, given the
choice between the survival of
the city and economic interests,
we will choose survival. But that
is easier said than done," says Dr.
Yrastorza, the city councilor in
charge of disaster rehabilitation.
"Some of these proposals (for
reforestation) are basically telling
the landowners, "We will make
you poor."
A Department of Agriculture
recommendation for the total
reforestation of Ormoc's 4,500-
hectare watershed is dismissed
by Yrastorza as "very drastic."
"We are still waiting for a plan
for reforestation that will not
disrupt the economy," he says.
"To make reforestation
attractive, the landowners must
be convinced that the economic
value of the trees will be
commensurate to the value of
the sugar cane."
Yrastorza suggests a
reforestation plan that would
place trees between sugar fields.
But Jose Alfaro, a local bank
manager and founder of SOS
Earth, an Ormoc-based
environmental organization,
says he believes any change in
the status quo would be
considered too drastic for the
landowners. "Turning everything
back to forests may not be
viable," he says. "But the least
that should be done is to start
planting trees and shrubs along
riverbanks and mountain ridges.
The sugar planters should also
start shifting to contour farming,
to preserve the slopes of the
mountains. But you can't change
the farming system without
disturbing the economy. In other
words, you can't have your cake
and eat it too."
As proof of what he says is a
lack of seriousness toward
reforestation, Alfaro cites the
city's P1.5 million budget
allocation for disaster
rehabilitation. "Not a single item
went to reforestation.
Everything is going to
infrastructure. It's election time."
Mayor Locsin confirms the lack
of city funding for reforestation,
but remarks that Ormoc has
already received many seedling
donations and is only waiting
for Japanese assistance to
support its reforestation
program. The DENR has
proposed the conversion of the
steepest 30 percent of the
watershed back to trees and
shift to contour farming, or
terracing, on the sugar
plantations, a move that would
entail enormous expense.
"We are expecting the DENR to
come up with a reforestation
plan that is practical," says
Yrastorza. "Convincing the
landowners is a problem. What
we're trying to come up with is a
solution that they will be happy
with, realizing that it is good for
the majority."
A 'Legal' Ecological Destruction
What if the landowners aren't
convinced? Factoran explains
that government's hands are
tied. "Expropriation of the land is
something you can do as a legal
option," he says. "But that's not
viable because you have to pay
them a fair market value. With
the kind of money our
government has, and with the
kind of Congress we have, who
will appropriate funds for that?"
He adds that the only realistic
approach is to "put pressure on
them. And how do you put
pressure on the rich? By getting
the poor who are plenty to
demonstrate. If there is another
flood, the poor will be the first to
die. This is agrarian reform
redux. You see it again and
again and again."
Based on real estate records in
Ormoc obtained by the DENR, the
families owning most of the land
comprising Ormoc's watershed
are the Larrazabals, the Seraficas,
the Torreses, the Torrevillases,
the Pongos, and the Tans. The
Larrazabal family owns most,
nearly 16 percent, or about 413
hectares.
"The landowners may appear
like culprits now," says Gary
Tengco, a researcher with the
Environment Research Division
of the Manila Observatory. "But
we shouldn't lose sight of the
fact that the law legitimized the
conversion of the watershed
into sugar plantations. The
owners claims on the watershed
is legal…The law on land
classification didn't consider the
watersheds. Having seen what
can happen, we need to put
ecological considerations in the
law."
In the aftermath of Ormoc's
tragedy, however, lawmakers in
Manila have tended to castigate
"illegal orders," rather than
initiate reform in a system that
legalized the destruction of
Ormoc's delicate ecosystem.
Ormoc residents who are once
again living along the path of
deadly waters seem oblivious to
the issues that could determine
their fate. "We are prepared now
to evacuate at anytime," says
Alfred Casicas, who moved his
family back to the banks of the
Anilao River. "But we don't think
we will see that kind of flood
again."

Parallelism: ONDOY and ORMOC

First published by the
Philippine Daily Inquirer on April
21-22, 1992.
by HOWIE SEVERINO
ORMOC, Leyte — Five months
after the flood that claimed over
2,000 of its residents in 1991,
Isla Verde is hot and dry. On
both sides of the islet, the Anilao
River has become a harmless
stream. In the shade, half-naked
men talk idly about how the
water came and killed their
families.
On the morning of November 5,
1991, water from a heavy
rainfall roared down from the
surrounding hills carrying logs
and uprooted trees, and
engulfed Isla Verde and much of
Ormoc. Isla Verde used to be a
crowded community of about
2,500 before the great Ormoc
flood almost completely wiped it
out.
According to the remaining
residents of Isla Verde, only
about 200 people here survived.
Since then, the government has
said Isla Verde should never
have been inhabited in the first
place. But despite warnings that
it is one of the most dangerous
places in the city to live in, some
20 families have returned, along
with a few migrants to Ormoc
who were displaced by floods
elsewhere in Leyte. They say
their number is increasing.
Rosendo Lumanta, 57, a former
farmer who moved his family to
Isla Verde 30 years ago,
survived the big flood by
climbing a coconut tress after
the roof his family was standing
on was swept away. Twenty-
two other survivors had climbed
the same tree. His wife, a
daughter and tow grandchildren
couldn't hold on. They were
among the 2,300 or so dead
from Isla Verde alone, a sand
strip of land that divides The
Anilao River into two channels.
Like his other neighbors who
have returned, Rosendo believes
the tragedy was a freak that is
unlikely to happen.
A Warning to Other
Communities
The city government counted
4,875 dead in Ormoc, but
according to Mayor Victoria
Locsin, remains of bodies were
still found after the official count.
As one of the country's worst
natural disasters, the tragedy in
Ormoc has been invoked across
the nation as a warning to other
ecologically devastated
communities.
Here in Ormoc, however, most of
the survivors have been too
preoccupied with trying to piece
their lives together to heed any
words of caution. Finding the
evacuation camps too crowded
and resettlement slow, Lumanta
has returned to Isla Verde with
one daughter and her family.
"This is where my family died
and this is where I want to grow
old. I don't want to live
anywhere else." He says, wiping
his eyes with a dirty towel.
Isla Verde is only one of this
coastal city's many hazardous
areas, where the settlement of
people is prohibited by law.
Along riverbanks around the
city, where many residents were
swept away by rampaging
floodwaters, people are back.
"We have been discouraging
people not to move back there,
but they have been hard-
headed," says Dr. Gregorio
Yrastorza Jr., Ormoc councilor
and the chairman of the City
Disaster or Coordinating Council
(CDCC). "But you also can't tell
them to leave if you don't have
an alternative yet for families
living in high-risk areas."
The city planned to resettle 2,668
Ormoc families displaced by the
flood, and several hectares were
purchased for the purpose with
donations from private
organizations. But negotiations
for some of the land bogged
down because, city officials say,
some landowners raised the
price at the last minute. In one
instance, according to Yrastorza,
representatives of the Makati
Business Club were on the verge
of buying nearly eight hectares
of land about two kilometers
outside the city when the
owners abruptly jacked up the
price from P60 per square meter
to P65.
Even some flood victims who
have been offered new lots have
returned to rebuild their homes
on the old sites. "The
resettlement site is too small and
too crowded," says Alfred
Casicas, a father of four who
lives with his family on the
riverbank across from Isla Verde.
Even with the year's rainy
season only a few months away,
residents living in dangerous
areas tempered their fears with
a self-assurance that such a
tragedy could happen only once
in their lives. "What happened
here was a buhawi (whirlwind),"
says Jimmy Castillo, a resident of
Isla Verde. "It was very rare. It
never happened here before,
and it won't happen again."
A Disaster Waiting to Happen
Experts who have studied the
disaster disagree. The
environment of Ormoc is even
more critical now because of
what happened," says Rosalio
Goze, Eastern Visayas director
for the Department of
Environment and Natural
Resources (DENR) at the time of
the flood and the Manila-based
coordinator of the government's
Oplan Sagip Gubat (Operation
Save the Forest). "We could have
the same kind of disaster with
only half as much rain. And
remember, that part of the
country is hit by an average of
five typhoons a year. We can
never be sure that it won't
happen again."
Experts now say that even
before the flood, it should have
been obvious that Ormoc was a
natural disaster waiting to
happen. Located on the delta
where the Anilao and Malbasag
Rivers meet, Ormoc was
surrounded by ills that had been
cleared of all its vegetation to
make way for sugar cane. The
soil around Ormoc was also
naturally loose and unsuitable.
When heavy rain fell on the hills,
little of the water was absorbed
or held back by the watershed.
The rest poured into the city,
quickly overflowing the fragile
banks of the two rivers and
leaving no time for most people
to evacuate.
A DENR study points out that
with adequate forest cover on
the watershed, the flood would
have been no more than four
feet deep. The waters that killed
thousands rose ten feet in about
three hours.
Experts say the root causes of
the flashflood were man-made.
In particular, they cite the
conversion of forest lands into
sugar cane plantations, a process
that began in 1952. That was the
year when a proclamation by
then President Elpidio Quirino
reclassified all lands with less
than 18 degree slopes as
"alienable and disposable,"
meaning they could be privately
owned. But the conversion of
Ormoc's watershed from trees to
sugar accelerated and was
completed in the late 1970s
when world prices of sugar
peaked.
Tests by the DENR have shown
that soil planted to sugar cane
has a very low capacity for
absorbing water — much lower,
for example, than the soil
underneath cogon grass. Today,
according to records of the
DENR, nearly 100 percent of the
immediate watershed of Ormoc,
an area of 4,500 hectares, is
owned by six sugar-planting
families, including the
Larrazabals, the family of the
incumbent mayor, Victoria L.
Locsin.
Landowners as Part of Solution
But as the private landowners
are part of the problem, they are
also said to be part of the
solution. In separate reports on
the disaster, three government
line agencies and a US Agency
for International Development
(USAID) engineering team, in
addition to several private
organizations and consultants,
have all urged the immediate
reforestation of Ormoc's ruined
watershed. Environment officials
argue that since the watershed is
private land, only the
landowners can decide when
and where reforestations should
begin.
Yet there is no indication that
this task is being taken seriously
by either Ormoc's landed elite or
the city government. Says
Locsin: "The landowners are
waiting for the DENR to assist
them and call their attention."
DENR Secretary Fulgencio
Factoran Jr. insists, however, that
under the new local government
code, local officials must take the
lead in the city's reforestation
drive, while line agencies such as
his provide technical support.
"They (local officials) have more
power now to do something,"
says Factoran. "But if there is no
political will, wala."
National officials say the
problem in Ormoc is that the
landowners are reluctant to
convert profitable sugar lands
back to forest. "The economy
there depends on sugar," says
Rosalio Goze, the former DENR
director for Eastern Visayas. "But
it's a trade-off. The question
should be whether they want to
prevent a disaster or not."
City officials say it's not that
simple. "Of course, given the
choice between the survival of
the city and economic interests,
we will choose survival. But that
is easier said than done," says Dr.
Yrastorza, the city councilor in
charge of disaster rehabilitation.
"Some of these proposals (for
reforestation) are basically telling
the landowners, "We will make
you poor."
A Department of Agriculture
recommendation for the total
reforestation of Ormoc's 4,500-
hectare watershed is dismissed
by Yrastorza as "very drastic."
"We are still waiting for a plan
for reforestation that will not
disrupt the economy," he says.
"To make reforestation
attractive, the landowners must
be convinced that the economic
value of the trees will be
commensurate to the value of
the sugar cane."
Yrastorza suggests a
reforestation plan that would
place trees between sugar fields.
But Jose Alfaro, a local bank
manager and founder of SOS
Earth, an Ormoc-based
environmental organization,
says he believes any change in
the status quo would be
considered too drastic for the
landowners. "Turning everything
back to forests may not be
viable," he says. "But the least
that should be done is to start
planting trees and shrubs along
riverbanks and mountain ridges.
The sugar planters should also
start shifting to contour farming,
to preserve the slopes of the
mountains. But you can't change
the farming system without
disturbing the economy. In other
words, you can't have your cake
and eat it too."
As proof of what he says is a
lack of seriousness toward
reforestation, Alfaro cites the
city's P1.5 million budget
allocation for disaster
rehabilitation. "Not a single item
went to reforestation.
Everything is going to
infrastructure. It's election time."
Mayor Locsin confirms the lack
of city funding for reforestation,
but remarks that Ormoc has
already received many seedling
donations and is only waiting
for Japanese assistance to
support its reforestation
program. The DENR has
proposed the conversion of the
steepest 30 percent of the
watershed back to trees and
shift to contour farming, or
terracing, on the sugar
plantations, a move that would
entail enormous expense.
"We are expecting the DENR to
come up with a reforestation
plan that is practical," says
Yrastorza. "Convincing the
landowners is a problem. What
we're trying to come up with is a
solution that they will be happy
with, realizing that it is good for
the majority."
A 'Legal' Ecological Destruction
What if the landowners aren't
convinced? Factoran explains
that government's hands are
tied. "Expropriation of the land is
something you can do as a legal
option," he says. "But that's not
viable because you have to pay
them a fair market value. With
the kind of money our
government has, and with the
kind of Congress we have, who
will appropriate funds for that?"
He adds that the only realistic
approach is to "put pressure on
them. And how do you put
pressure on the rich? By getting
the poor who are plenty to
demonstrate. If there is another
flood, the poor will be the first to
die. This is agrarian reform
redux. You see it again and
again and again."
Based on real estate records in
Ormoc obtained by the DENR, the
families owning most of the land
comprising Ormoc's watershed
are the Larrazabals, the Seraficas,
the Torreses, the Torrevillases,
the Pongos, and the Tans. The
Larrazabal family owns most,
nearly 16 percent, or about 413
hectares.
"The landowners may appear
like culprits now," says Gary
Tengco, a researcher with the
Environment Research Division
of the Manila Observatory. "But
we shouldn't lose sight of the
fact that the law legitimized the
conversion of the watershed
into sugar plantations. The
owners claims on the watershed
is legal…The law on land
classification didn't consider the
watersheds. Having seen what
can happen, we need to put
ecological considerations in the
law."
In the aftermath of Ormoc's
tragedy, however, lawmakers in
Manila have tended to castigate
"illegal orders," rather than
initiate reform in a system that
legalized the destruction of
Ormoc's delicate ecosystem.
Ormoc residents who are once
again living along the path of
deadly waters seem oblivious to
the issues that could determine
their fate. "We are prepared now
to evacuate at anytime," says
Alfred Casicas, who moved his
family back to the banks of the
Anilao River. "But we don't think
we will see that kind of flood
again."

Saturday, September 5, 2009

So-called Bed...Waterbed? Bwiset!

After eating my dinner at around 1AM, after facebooking and tweeting, after watching tv, and after dishwashing, whats the next best thing to do? Yeah! You got it right! Time to sleep...

Teka!!! Anong meron sa kwarto ko? My bukal ng tubig? Oo nga bukal! Mali. Fountain kaya? May himala! Tanga! Tumutulo yung kisame. Potek! Basang-basa ang so-called bed ko, pati ilang mga damit at brief ko! Peste, pati yung kumot at unan ko pala. Pati bag ko. Nakakainis!

Idagdag mo pa ang housemate mong KAIBIGAN mo pa ng halos 6 na taon na sobrang insensitive and walang pakialam. Hindi man lang nag-aya na palipasin ko ang gabi sa room nya. Concern naman kahit pano, pero nakakainis yung suggestion, isabit ko daw ung planggana sa kisame! Kung hindi ka tanga at kalahati, imposible yung naiisip mo, hindi ka ba nag-aral sa physics ng balance and gravitational pull. Yung naiisip mong ideya, e lalong magpapahamak sakin. Baka pag puno na yung planggana bumuhos pa sakin. Pumunta kana sa kwarto mo at itulog mo nalang yang utak mong babad sa tubig. Bahain ka sana.

Ngayon matutulog akong nakaupo at pabaluktot sa so-called kung bed. Na may katabing planggana. First time ko to. Waterbed, pangmayaman! Este wetbed pala...ay potek! Pati extra kong kumot at pillowcase nabasa din, pati ilang damit na naka-hanger. Para tuloy may tiktak ng orasan akong naririnig sa bawat patak ng tubig sa plangganang nakapatong sa so-called kung bed.

Goodnight. Goodluck. Sweet Dreams. Wag sana akong magka-back pain at stiff neck. Housemate may araw ka rin....

2ne4 (twentyfour24bentekwatro)...happy 24th anniversary nay and daduds...

2ne4 (twentyfour24bentekwatro)...happy 24th anniversary nay and daduds...

2ne4 (twentyfour24bentekwatro)...happy 24th anniversary nay and daduds...

2ne4 (twentyfour24bentekwatro)...happy 24th anniversary nay and daduds...

2ne4 (twentyfour24bentekwatro)...happy 24th anniversary nay and daduds...

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Appropriate and Applicable

Complicated, confusing and happy. These are the best adjectives that describe my current situation.

I like the internet so much, and i got a lot of social networking accounts,yes! Name it and you will have it.

While i was updating my posts in facebook and twitter, i found two posts from my contacts that are very much applicable and appropriate to my present situation. Here are those...

"Never explain yourself: Your friends dont need it and your enemies wont believe it."
- post of Mr. Sonnie Santos


"admit what you feel. Feel it and then give it up. The issue is not that you experience the emotion, its what you do in response to the emotion - SURRENDER!"
- a tweet from Juris Fernandez of MYMP