Pandoraspace

Memories of the 1990 Earthquake

Nineteen years ago today, a terrible earthquake hit Baguio.  I am lucky to have survived it.

I was in high school then.  When the quake happened, I was still in the school auditorium for an extra-curricular activity.  I remember waiting for my turn to be called for the extemporaneous declamation try-outs when the earth moved violently up and down.  I felt like a ball being dribbled.   After what seemed like eons later, the earth began to move horizontally in long rapid succession.  I positioned myself beside a post and thought about how my family was doing.  Where were they?  Were they alive?  In the seconds that passed, I must have made a million promises to God in exchange for keeping them safe.

In between aftershocks, I ran down to the quadrangle, and from there, I saw that Sky World building, UB and FRB building had been badly damaged.  They looked like stacked up cardboard boxes that had fallen to one side.  Worse, students of UB were jumping from the ledge to the pavement.  Every few seconds, the earth would shake and I would wonder how long the tremors would last.  Then, the sky darken and hail came pouring down.

An hour later, I could no longer bear not knowing if my family survived the quake.  I decided to go home, aftershock or no.  I told my friend and her sister that I would walk them home as their house was along the way to mine.  When we got to their house, their older brother in turn walked me home.

When I got home, I was so relieved to know that my mom and sisters were alright.  My grandparents and my dad were in Manila at that time and we had absolutely no idea of how they were.  We were worried.  So, when my mom and I heard that PILTEL was offering, for free, the use of its cellular phones so people could contact their families, I went to its office in Session Road and lined up for five hours to place a call to Manila.  When I got on the phone and asked for my dad, I was told that he left for Baguio the day before and that my grandparents were safe.

When I got home, my dad was there and he hugged me so tightly that my ribs hurt.  He told us that he found out about the earthquake a few minutes after it happened as he was meeting with his friends from the press who got wind of the news immediately.  He drove part of the way for twelve hours  and walked the rest of the way for another eight hours to get to Baguio.

When we knew that our family was alright, my parents and I started to look for friends to see if they were alright and to find out how we could be of any help to them.

During the days following the quake, we slept outside the house for fear that the house would collapse on us when a strong aftershock happens.  There was no electricity for more than a month.  There was no water for weeks. It rained all the time. No one was selling food and we were just blessed to have ample supplies at home.  The most terrifying part of this all was that the aftershocks happened for months after the quake.  On each aftershock, I wondered how long it would last, how strong it would get and whether we would survive.  To this day, I get very tense when there are tiny earthquakes that happen.

I only remembered these sad memories of the earthquake when, for the first time in nineteen years, I saw pictures of the aftermath of the earthquake today.  I had never seen pictures of the quake before as we had no electricity and, months after the quake, I had no real interesting it looking at pictures of the aftermath.

After seeing those pictures, I am happy to be alive and to know that, during that devastating time of my life, I had family and real friends around.