I was still wearing my pink nightgown. It’s cozy.
mypinknightgownismagic
It’s night time and it’s quiet. The rain stopped and we waited for the feeling of safety first. By now we have a good sensefeel of when it’d come- rain if ever she decides to.
We get the Earth is resting from what she can’t help even if she for some reason, desired not to rebalance herself.
We walk slowly.
We open the door slowly.
We see through the night.
We feel sand.
There’s no road now.
Seems like everything’s closer.
The lines are on the ground.
Houses nowhere in sight- barely any stood complete. Pan on the ground. Clothes. A baby’s shoe.
Trees. Coconuts.
We were all walking as if we were a choreographer’s dream ensemble- in sync but different, one but the same, the feeling too true. It is true…
Eyes searching for meaning. For homes.
For pieces of themselves. For why.
For what the fuck.
For each other.
For who?
For who?
For us.
For them.
For Burgos.
For what is left.
For what’s next.
For everything.
Taking it in.
In my pink nightgown, I swept and clean the floors and led the water outside into grass.
The pink nightgown swayed as I am part of a continuous movement of making sure we secure the house every moment. From the roof that opened for the skies to the ruins that entered our houses, reorganized.
We checked every room we chose and considered where we can all actually sleep.
Sol’s pick of the top floor is an obvious No due to the risks it posed as the rain kept going, and the lack of stable coverages making us the easy reception of any more tragedy.
Jas’ room was leaking, roof seems like it wants to give in, and bed unsanitary from what flowed through the ceiling, holes, and openings made by Odette’s forced entries.
Once we opened mine-
It’s as if the floor just got dirty. My bed was fine. The windows broken sure but nothing too scary.
The cement in front of me was so strong it couldn’t break the sanctuary.
We decided to stay in there for sleeping every night.
We have to conserve and gather water. We organized the shelves. We as much as possible kept the house together, prepared, and recovering.
The next days we take it moment by moment, slowly due to the way the experience integrated itself and the way we wake to the questions with open minds of “What’s next?” “What do we need?” “How can we create that?”
We went outside with big pails and basins, getting water from the sea and back to our house for any cleaning to conserve all drinkable water supply.
There is no water, no electricity, no signal. Nothing of that kind. We have no idea what happened to the rest yet, we are still getting to know every crevice of what happened here in Burgos.
I walk the streets and it’s a different energy.
The next day after the typhoon, actually, I immediately checked on (he who shall be codenamed Linaw). I actually cared, despite the initial involvement that was laced with this underlying intention to prove something to myself and to a heartbreak- I feel the way we chose to move forward after was to form a genuine bond of some sorts. Lightness, gratefully.
At this point, no pride nor ego existed after what just happened and I felt closer with people who were in the same place while the Supertyphoon was ongoing. I felt closer with the place more than ever, just wanting everybody to be okay.
Despite the uncertainty of circumstances, and how many more days of not having relief in Burgos, we shared resources.
People responded and reacted differently to the whole situation.
The morning after, many people were already on the move fixing roofs and finding supplies from the ground (the extended shore) we can make us of from wood to pans, to fabric, and all of that. Some looted, including us by the 4th day, and others were scared. Those who feared more scarce were angry at anybody that dared take a more second in underneath the water the pozo could release. Others were so generous, regardless of the unknown, they feed from their own stock.
No matter what it looked like, everybody was looking for safety.
Mine was in the pink nightgown I did everything in.
I spent most days in it, not having a lot of clothes with me because I only had that one backpack coming to Burgos.
Some people found it amusing, others arousing, others amazing but one thing that is what I feel is true is that is comfortable, I can move freely, it’s not hard to maintain nor sustain, wear and take off, and I don’t give a fuck about carrying 10 gallons of seawater in a bucket wearing it through 3 streets if I had to. (And we had to. One bucket each to keep our house as livable, sustainable as it can be.)
The rain is not over.
Dogs, animals, pigs, chickens ran freely at times because the people didn’t want or couldn’t take care of them anymore. Others were dead on the extended shore.
Palm trees were broken and most of them turning into playground for the kids. Including the kid in us.
Coconuts were everywhere, we’d get as much as we can (without hoarding) to make the most out of it before it decomposes.
For others the Supertyphoon is not over too.
Including Pahinga.
“Thank God you wear that pink nightgown. We got free access to a private pozo because of it.”
“Yeah, but the old guy started making moves to have me marry him.”
After the making the most, we let that shit go because we’re not risking him feeling entitled to have me in exchange for free drinkable water.
He should’ve offered without thinking of anything in return, anyways. We don’t know how long we’re going to live like this.