It was like doomsday
Motorists pass a building damaged after the 6.5-magnitude earthquake that struck Surigao City, in the southern island of Mindanao, on February 11, 2017. A strong quake shook the southern Philippines on February 10, killing at least seven people, toppling buildings and sending panicked residents fleeing their homes, media reports and authorities said. AFP PHOTO
SURIGAO CITY — I was half asleep when my bed suddenly jerked. At first it felt like I was in some hypnagogic nightmare, where monsters would grab me from behind and I struggle to escape.
I knew something was off when the entire house trembled. This was no longer the work of an axe-wielding, three-eyed monster I often encountered in my sleep. I came to full consciousness as things began falling from all around me and shards from broken light bulbs landed on my feet.
By force of habit I grabbed my phone, checked Facebook as my two-story apartment gyrated more violently. Nothing on the feed that says “earthquake” but then again, I reckoned putting out a doomsday status while doomsday was happening would be the last thing on anyone’s mind. It was 10:06 p.m. on my phone.
The first temblor started to dissipate but as it stopped, another convulsion rocked the earth. I ducked for cover under the bed. I heard my neighbors screaming and loud banging of tin cans, kitchenware and anything that made a sound. An old myth says that temblors disappear if people make noise—and boy, it seemed everyone believed that.
When the tremors finally ended, the shouting and the banging turned into wailing and crying. The whole eight to 12 seconds of shaking and rocking had felt like a lot longer.
I went out to survey the damage. In less than a minute, I see people coming from all directions, tugging their children and pets, and carrying whatever belongings they could grab. It was like a scene from a doomsday movie, and people seemed to be running mindlessly.
“The water in the shoreline has receded, we have to run now,” said a distraught father of three, suggesting that a tsunami was heading our way.
I followed the crowd to the city’s main road where they stopped for a moment, apparently deciding which hill to climb.
On a roadside, I saw patients from a hospital, most with IV (intravenous) drips still attached to their arms. Those injured in the quake joined the patients taken out of the hospital. Nurses and doctors were busy treating lacerations, concussions and other traumas.
The crowds grew bigger as they climbed to the elevated grounds of the Provincial Capitol. Local officials were appealing to the thousands who fled to return home, telling them there had been no tsunami alert and none will be raised. They ignored the appeal.
Like a few others, I decided to head home and fell into a deep slumber, unmindful of the possibility that another powerful quake or worse, a real tsunami, would strike.
