News like of the recent earthquake reminds me of that unfateful day of July 16, 1990, around 4:30pm (with daylight saving time) when an earthquake of 7.7 magnitude on the Richter scale hit Baguio City (north of the Philippines). I was a freshman then at the University of the Philippines – and my first time to live away from my family, too! And this is my own account of what happened that day…

It was a Monday, I remember that I was with my blockmates and we occupied one of the rooms in the 2-O’s (this is what we call those classrooms located underneath the campus’ auditoriums; they are called 2-O’s since the room number begin with 20) for a group study for an upcoming test in Algebra. I got thirsty and 2 of my blockmates went with me to the canteen and get a bottle of Coca Cola. The UP campus sits on a hill and one could see the Baguio Cathedral from one point. So, we were walking back from the canteen and I was holding the bottle when I felt dizzy. Then, all of a sudden, we heard someone shout, “Dapa, lumilindol!” (Duck, it’s an earthquake!) We all dropped to the ground and when I looked behind me, I saw the Cathedral bob up and down like a ball being dribbled! And then, I heard one of the scariest sounds in my life…the earth rolling underneath me. The quake lasted for around 45 seconds. During those 45 seconds, several things came to my mind…what if the ground opens up and we fall into it?…are our classmates alright? O started to run back to the 2-O’s and A was closely following after him. He realised then that he would be leaving me by myself so he went back to stay with me. Then, we started walking to the campus’ parking lot and many were already there. Then it started shaking again, this time, sideways. It was shorter than the last one but right after it, it started to rain. Of course, we didn’t have any choice but to get soaked since we sure can’t get back into the buildings. A and I found our blockmates and only one was slightly injured, C when the table rolled and hit her in the forehead. She was trying to get under it but it rolled towards her before she could get her head in. She had a slight cut on the forehead. I was still holding my bottle of Coca Cola and it turned to be helpful because some were hyperventilating and little sip did calm them down a bit.

The gravity of the situation did not sink in until a van from a newspaper group came to the campus and reported that most of the city’s building have tumbled down. The main roads, Kennon and Marcos highway were shut, too since most of the roads collapsed or were buried by rock and earth. See, Baguio is a city up in the mountains, 1400 meters above sea level. The only functioning road to access the city was Naguilian but it still had to be cleared of the debris.

We all camped out in front of Oble (the statue of the Oblation, UP’s symbol) all shaken and soaked. The temperature dropped to a record single digit that night, which for a tropical country, was really unusual! The Dean organised groups to do security rounds by shifts. Some students were picked up by their families or guardians but there were still a number of us who stayed in the campus. I really couldn’t sleep that night. It was cold, plus the fact that there were aftershocks every so often. At some point, I was dozing off but then we felt the ground shake again. I thought that I would be waking up with Oble beside me! It was a an aftershock, not really strong enough to be classified as another earthquake.

I remember the next days sitting around J’s car, drinking Coke (water was scarce) and listening to Neocolours … “tuloy pa rin ang awit ng buhay ko…” (the song of my life continues on) yes … life goes on.

We – the freshman class – were supposed to have our ‘test of fire’ by staging a show for the upper classes. Each block was supposed to present something, either a skit, a musical number, or anything and there is a selected panel of judges both from the faculty and upper class student body. Each year, that show is staged but during that year, 1990, it was scheduled on the Wednesday after the Monday earthquake. It never happened. Which is why our batch was classified “walang K” (no rights since untested, in the simplest of translations).

Thursday, we went out into the city to search for food really as our supplies were running thin. We saw the real effect of the earthquake – buildings that once stood and now gone and dead bodies…or worse…bits and parts. We came up near Burnham Park and there I saw how people were climbing up the gates of Sunshine Bakery and breaking the glass to reach for the bread. While I was seeing how money has but of little importance in these types of situation (no ATMs working, banks were shut, no tellers), there were still some people who took advantage of the situation. I remember asking the price of a can of sardines, “P30,” he said. 30 pesos??? At that time, a can was only about P5 or even P8.

I also tried to contact (as the phone lines were re-established only after 3 days) my mum and my family to let them know that I am alright. I rang home and my aunt said that my mum was on her way to pick me up and bring me home.

That night, back at the campus, we were able to take shelter in one of the hallways (one side is still open and leads to the parking lot). I took my shoes off and I was sitting beside R, who was already sleeping. I couldn’t remember who was sitting on my other side. An aftershock came and instinctively, I grabbed both R and the other person and dragged them away from the wall that we were leaning on to – fearing that the wall might collapse on us. But I suddenly remembered that I was shoeless so I ran back and got them. Pretty stupid, now that I looked back on it.

Next morning, Friday, my roommates woke me up to let me know that my mum was looking for me. I signed out under the care of the campus (they need headcounts) and went back to my boarding house. My mum was fuming with anger when she saw me but you could also see how tired she was. She started to tell me how disappointed she was as I was not at the boarding house because it was the first place where she expected to find or contact me. But then I told her that I decided to stay in campus knowing that being listed in an institution, such as UP, I would be looked after better. If I had stayed at the boarding house, which is privately run, I would have less chances of being ‘found’. She calmed down after a while but I guess she realised that I made the right decision.

That time, I was also informed of one of my roommates missing – Obet. He was supposed to be back Monday from Bulacan. We learned that he got on a bus around midday, and by the time the earthquake happened, the bus would have been travelling along Kennon Road. There were several buses that fell on the ravines but later we confirmed that Obet’s bus was one of them and that he was dead and buried underneath the rubble.

My mum arranged for us to go back home to Manila. Naguilian Road had been cleared at that time (which was how mum was able to get to me first). On the travel back home, we passed by the towns who were also affected by the quake. Dagupan City’s roads, I remember, were like a solid wave. We also stopped by Bulacan for Obet’s wake.

It was a long journey. Cramped in a jeepney. My family was glad that me and my mum were finally safe and back home.

I was a different person after that earthquake. I learned that life is short and you have to live it to the fullest. I learned that money isn’t everything. I learned the real value of friendship. It was one education that no university nor any learning institution could ever impart.

As I was writing this post, I Google’d for ‘baguio 1990 earthquake’ and found this site which recorded pictures of the tragedy. Click here.

Like

Unlike