I was in the office, chatting with Jerome Alcantara, my trusty executive director at the Blas F. Ople Policy Center. Two of our other staff, Riza and Eva, came in from a nearby workshop with food in Styrofoam packs. Our case handlers, Jenny and Arman, were in their workstations, right before me.
The blue sofa moved as we were seated. It felt like our couch transformed into a car that hit a bump and went up and down, and swayed from side to side. It was violent. It was abrupt. It was shocking. Through the seconds of shaking, Jerome and I went still and looked at each other, while Arman gave voice to our fears, “Lumilindol!”
We went outside and saw the office sign swaying. Our neighbor, the Department of Foreign Affairs, a giant of a building, soon emptied itself of weak-kneed staff. The intensity of the earthquake became a guessing game that the media soon resolved. We all decided to go home.
My journey home was eerie. I saw people outside their buildings clutching their phones, taking calls or texting people they love. I saw buses brimming with passengers, groaning from the unexpected weight of it all. I heard the chatter on radio and social media, with government executives saying that the quake did not qualify as a big one. And yet, there the people were—walking around dazed, with both the MRT and LRT unable to run the tracks.
When evening fell, it was somber. It was difficult to eat dinner while watching prime-time news, knowing that some of us did not make it alive. Our brothers and sisters in Porac, Pampanga, bore the brunt of the quake. Until now, there has yet to be a clear count of casualties inside the collapsed structure of a local supermart. The Clark International Airport incurred severe damage. Public Works Secretary Mark A. Villar and the local officials of Pampanga led by the hardworking Gov. Lilia Pineda continue to make the rounds, and check on structures to ensure their integrity.
A woman and her grandchild in Lubao died after a wall collapsed on them.
A four-story building in Porac collapsed with people trapped inside.
Some of the affected provinces have intermittent power.
You and I, we are so very lucky.
Let us resolve to use this experience to be better people than we are.
Let us think of those who died, and were injured, and offer a prayer for those crushed by this singular blow of Mother Nature.
Let us design our life and its remainder with all glory to God and let no sinful boulders of spite stop our hearts from beating with love that is forgiving.
Dear Reader, where were you when the ground shook?
And where are you headed now that it’s over?
Will you go on with your life as if nothing happened? Or will you use this experience to be a greater source of light and love and laughter because you breathe while others no longer can?
How wise is the Lord to be sending us constant reminders not just to be brave, but also to have the courage to be different and the patience to be kind. There must be a way to elevate this life of ours, into that rarest of gifts: relevance.
Relevance means living life with purpose, with less self-centeredness in the equation of our minutes, our hours and our days.
Sometimes the Earth needs to move, so we can be still, and in that stillness, commit to becoming better versions of ourselves.
Susan V. Ople heads the Blas F. Ople Policy Center and Training Institute, a nonprofit organization that deals with labor and migration issues. She also represents the OFW sector in the Inter-Agency Council Against Trafficking.