Glenda in Legazpi

We first heard about Typhoon Glenda on the morning of Monday July 14 while we were preparing for the onslaught of Special Olympics athletes that was about arrive.  We kept getting updates about it and by late morning we heard that DepEd had already cancelled classes for the day and sent all the kids home.  Following their lead, it was decided that the day's activities would be cut short so that everyone could go home shortly after lunch time, and the second day would be canceled altogether.

Before everyone started to disperse and begin traveling back to their sites, our Country Director made the announcement that we were all to meet at a certain restaurant to wait for their decision about whether we could leave or if we had to stay because of the storm.  After they stuffed us full of free pizza and beer (not complaining), we were informed that we had been placed on 'standfast' and were not allowed to leave the area.  The whole group split up and checked into two nearby hotels, where we would spend the next few days riding out the typhoon.

 Glenda was, by far, the scariest weather related experience I've ever been through in my life.  The winds were extremely high and the rain pelted the walls for hours and hours.  We all gathered together in the lobby for most of the night before sleeping, and chatted to try to take our minds off of what was happening outside.  The power went out early in the night but the hotel had a generator so we had electricity throughout the storm.  The cable and internet also went out early on so we really didn't have updates at all, other than what people were telling us on the phone.

Since one of the PCVs in our hotel had also been in Tacloban for Typhoon Yolanda (Haiyan)-and was pretty uneasy about the impending storm- we all made a conscious effort to keep our anxieties on the DL.  Personally, I was fairly calm until a local mother cradling a toddler came running into the hotel lobby during the height of the storm.  The sight of her and her baby made the reality of the situation--how so many Filipinos were riding out the storm in their shanty homes which were currently being pummeled by typhoon strength winds and rain--so much more tangible.  This mother literally feared for their lives and abandoned their home to seek a more stable shelter.  It brought me to tears.

The next day, after the storm passed, I woke up extremely early and was up and showered by 7:30am—very unlike me!  I’ve never had problems with anxiety and usually I’m a pretty calm, level-headed person but that morning I felt so incredibly anxious about the need to get back to site and check on everyone.  Physically, I felt as if I had been drinking coffee for hours yet I hadn’t had a drop.  After talking to my Regional Manager, who was also staying at the hotel, I was able to go outside and walk around to get an idea of the damage.  The following pictures are from a short walk in the area of the hotel. 

Much to my dismay, since Glenda was still slowly moving across the country and the roads hadn’t been cleared yet, we were ordered to remain at the hotel for one more night.  In an attempt to calm myself, and since I had nowhere to go, I went back to bed and eventually fell asleep for a bit.

I traveled back to Naga the next day after we got word that the roads had been mostly cleared of debris and the vans were running again.  Along the road, all the way from Legazpi to Naga, were hundreds and hundreds of downed trees of all kinds—even the largest ones completely uprooted and blown over.  In addition to trees, there was an incredible number of snapped and bent power lines and fallen electrical wires.  Branches littered the sides of the road and people could be seen everywhere sweeping up leaves and cutting up large tree trunks.  Driving through the Philippines under normal circumstances usually reveals a certain amount of degradation, but this was unlike anything I had seen before.