Last post I mentioned a tragedy. That was all about my eight year old pit bull Pow dying from drowning.
Not! For one, the brother and I were not home when the water rose too high too fast. It didn’t occur to anyone left at home that flooding would reach our second floor, for the second time in three years.
When the water receded to knee deep, I insisted we go home, despite no electricity or phone line or working appliance for three weeks hence.
We don’t qualify as destitute either, to whom a hand out is...well...natural. So, if you want to extend help I suggest you do it in kind or volunteer some other way.
One friend offered her oven and kitchen for me to use, because ours gave out and there was still flooding a month after the big one (comes and goes with still swollen waterways). It would be a burden (for now) to get a new one on credit, seeing that most of our appliances didn’t survive and need replacing. We lived without a refrigerator for a month.
I appreciated most Tita M sending me (from NY) a five kilo block of dark Callebaut! A neighbor, Mang Ruben (mang means mister) sent over his men to fix our warped front door and wiring (charged us a pittance). Ruth took me shopping for basic foodstuff and hot chocolate mix plus lent us her spare gas stove to use. A long lost friend ( I was rediscovered on FaceBook) kept sending me PMs asking how I was, consoling, offering to help clean muddy walls, and later taking me to lunch for a much needed break from the exhausting work. That mini reunion got me on the road to normalcy. My full recovery I owe to
I was looking for an air pressure hose thingy, like they use for power washing cars (maybe someone can rig something?) to water blast caked mud and oil sludge. No joy: we had to scrub and rake away. There was no help available – everyone else is cleaning up. You won't find anyone even for pay.
We ate mostly cooked food from
You could bring snacks!
I bought turon saging (fried sweet banana rolls), turon munggo (sweetened mung bean roll), halo halo of beans and langka (jackfruit), fried cassava cakes (my favorite and the most dramatic picture I ever took of a lowly street food hehe).
I also got what my dad calls tinudok (Ilocano for tinusok or speared – I took out the stick when I shot this). Tinudok are deep fried balls of malagkit or sticky rice cloaked in caramelized, crusty brown sugar (those small misshapen spheres on either side of the long turon roll below and here).
A side story: dad said in his hometown,
Give out spare pillows or bedding or a room to sleep in. I for one appreciates a clean bed in a room that does not look like an obstacle course of boxes and stuff to sort out. Mine still looks like one to this day.
Take me some place far from my damp, cold, watery, muddy world and give me dessert I did not bake. Oh, and if you could, a spa day would be just the thing! I know, I'm super demanding blehhh : )