OCT 13 — “Makan habis lah, Ah Gong…” T pleaded with my grandfather in broken Malay. “Orang-orang di Philippines sudah tak ada makanan,” she continued. This meal-time plea from T made my heart skip a beat. It lent a voice to all the horrific images of devastation emerging from the Philippines since Typhoon Ketsana struck on the 3rd of October.
Her farming community located near Pangasinan province had been badly affected by the incessant rains brought by typhoons Ketsana and Parma.
A situation made worse recently by the release of water from the nearby dams.
Her home is awash in waters waist deep. The rice crop that her father was about to harvest has been submerged by water. So too is the mango orchard that she worked for years. There is also the aunt working in Manila who has been uncontactable since the first day Ketsana struck.
While they are comparatively lucky compared to many of their neighbours, there is still plenty to worry about for the immediate future. With the lost rice crop, how will her father feed the family?
Someone managed to save the family’s cows but what will they be fed?
The grass is covered in water.
Her mother who managed to stockpile some food during the brief respite between the two typhoons is now worried about disease outbreaks.
Particularly when they are living in an overcrowded place and there’s a pool of dirty rising floodwater beneath them.
Then there’s the challenge of keeping the grandchildren from playing in the waters. So far they have had to rescue one grandson who thought of the rapidly rising waters as an instant swimming pool and jumped in. In the meantime, T is far away from home worried about her family and how the cost of food will escalate in view of an impending rice shortage.
The impact of hearing such stories on a personal basis is greater than seeing images on telly or the newspapers. The calamity becomes more real. Our level of consciousness increases. At the same time, it is a demonstration of how we are connected through compassion.
After all, it is when such disasters strike that we witness the international community banding together in support of their fellow brethren. From the governmental expressions of sympathy and the prayers of the different faith communities to the little Red Cross donation box that sits at my office reception. In our own capacity, we endeavour to assist those who have had misfortune befall them.
Upon hearing T’s plea, my grandfather proceeded to finish the food on his plate. No small feat for an elderly gentleman suffering from Parkinson’s. A condition that is gradually robbing him of his ability to control his muscles, including the ability to eat and feed himself.
He often ends up leaving mouthfuls of food on his plate out of sheer fatigue. T may have guilt-tripped him into consuming his food but he struggled in honour of those who did not have any. I guess that was his way of showing empathy for those who have suffered.
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