On Dec. 16, 2011, Typhoon Sendong hit Negros Oriental. Mesmerized, I watched brown flood water rolling towards our house and those of my neighbors’. In seconds, we were in waist- high water. Everything that was within the level of water was sucked up and soaked beyond recognition–books, clothing, mattresses, bed, sheets, food. Our refrigerator turned 360 degrees, and fell flat on its back, very much like a coffin. Minutes after, like zombies, we walked around the house, and surveyed the damage, not comprehending how this could happen so suddenly and without warning. Water supply and electricity stopped.
Late in the afternoon, tired, dirty, and bedraggled, I and my nine-year-old granddaughter headed for the City intending to check-in in a hotel, longing for a much needed bath, food, and a warm bed. We put on jackets over our dirty clothes, packed a bayong with clothes we found that were dry and clean, some toiletries, and caught a tricycle for the City.
We stopped at the first hotel we saw. It was starting to drizzle again. I asked the girl at the front desk for a room, but she said the hotel was fully-booked. We walked to another hotel and were told the same thing– booked.
At one or two, the guards just looked at us — at our dirty clothes and muddy feet — and told us there was no more room available.
It was getting dark, and we still had to find a place to stay for the night. I could hear Christmas parties going on in some of the hotels we went to. We walked to several more, but still no more room for us. In the end, we decided to return home.
We were silent on the way home. Then my granddaughter said, “Mama, I think they did not let us in because we are so dirty.”
I said, “Perhaps. I don’t know. But what I do know now is how Mary and Joseph must have felt when there was no room for them at the inn.”
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Author’s email: tourismDumaguete@yahoo.com
