My Watering Hole: Where is the rain of my youth?

Sunday, September 17, 2017

Where is the rain of my youth?

When I was young my parents had to stop me from going out and or lecture me about the wisdom of using umbrellas. Rain is bad you’ll get sick, they said, to which I always wondered, why take a bath everyday then? Water is water.

Rain was cool and fun. It cools down the heat of summer. I liked how it felt because I was not allowed to use the shower. Showers are wasteful use the pail, they said. I also liked how the water collects in the streets because I never had a pool. The children I saw playing looked like they were having fun with it. I never had any fun, all dry in my room.

And then some years went by I finally met a flood that changed it all.

It was balls deep and I had to walk 500 meters straight out all water. Before going through with it I thought of the floods as just water and how high could the waters be? Traffic is on a standstill, only this (hopefully?) last remaining body of water blocked me from home. If I suck it up get through it then I’m home before everybody.

Walking half a kilometer in balls deep water is tiring. I’ve walked through swimming pools but pools don’t end up this big. It made me think as I notice surrounding areas and where the water is coming from. When I arrived at home it was the longest bath I have taken before or since.

There are crime movies where the rape victim showers afterwards, rubbing herself red of something that is un-washable – that’s me only without the rape. That night I swore never to walk through floods again.

photo from Boston.com

By 2009 it didn’t matter what I promised myself, the game had changed. Typhoon Ondoy (international name Ketsana) had Metro Manila flooded into a standstill. Areas that were never flooded before were flooded. Walking through one flooded area would no longer be an answer since it now meant walking through many more than was safe.

Ondoy was so sudden there was a point when people blamed the dams; that maybe someone released too much water too late.

By 2012 and again in 2013 when habagat happened, the finger pointing no longer mattered. Flood levels were no longer a fluke but already had a measure of consistency. Something has changed in how the water flows (or not flowing?) in Metro Manila. Even just a few hours of rain in a day at strategic points like rush hour or during payday would make it all go to hell.

Photo from news.abs-cbn.com

Now nearing 40, I no longer feel the joy I used to.

Water ceased to be just water. I still shun the umbrella every now and then on short bursts and with rain at a negligible drizzle but it’s not the same. Thinking of laundry and the fact I pay for my own shoes now takes the fun out.

In place of my parents who forced me indoors I now have work that calls me out when it rains and that makes downpours stressful. Can I get to work? Is there work? Do I use my sick leave privileges for this particular day when there would more in a year? If caught in the office the question changes to can I get home? I ask those questions every time.

Now fun of rain is to be in bed - all day. In bed I don’t have to think of anything.