Mina, Milenyo, and Mogadishu in My Mind

So I just found out. Like right this moment... Happy 100 Posts to me! I hope I get in at least a couple more hundred posts before ol' Que Varbs gives up on me.

Now that we got the pleasantries out of the way, allow me to give a little reality check, coz heck knows I haven't been all that in touch with the cold hard truth of life and things for the longest time.

Typhoon Mina (international codename: Mitag) is not just the latest nuisance in the local scene vying with our cruddy "politickians" for our national attention. She's a veritable PMS-ing biatch, wreaking havoc and making a hell of a scene in the backyard of our poor, displaced neighbors in Bicol. If my blasted memory of all things numerical doesn't fail me, an estimated 200,000 people are being forced out of home and hearth and evacuating to safer ground. And apparently, it was just practice; Mina's just getting her freak on. All I can say is, "Dude! Not another Milenyo!"

Last year's superstar typhoon ("super typhoon" in real world terms) Milenyo (international codename: Xangsane) made such an impression, my then housemates (Prima and Jal) and I have since referred to the time as our "Mogadishu" days. Not because we loved Josh Hartnett in Black Hawk Down, the last released big-ass flick depicting the conflict in the Somali capital; neither was it because we were channeling Brangelina and suddenly felt like going the Peace Corps way (although once upon a time, Jal and I had curiously harbored short-lived dreams of doing volunteer work in even poorer places than the PH, like for real--sorry, reality check bitch-slapped us back to wakefulness). It was coz for a few days in our otherwise very ordinary lives, we felt like we were in the movies. Like inside the movies, as opposed to being in the movies like Josh and posse.

Them Mogadishu days were something all right. I remember the uber-extended public holidays, if you can even call them that. The three of us were stuck at home with no lights, no TV, no electric fan, no nothing. Our other housemate was shacking up at one of them motel-like hotels with her paramour for the AC. (Hey, just so we're clear, I'm not saying this in any way. It's true, if you ask her yourself, she'll admit it to you straight away.) Meanwhile, Prima, Jal and I were staging our own Amazing Race all over the neighborhood in a pathetic attempt to find some candles coz Lord knows how the supermalls ran out of them so fast that you'd pay top dollar for any kind of wax you could get your hands on. We finally found a mom-and-pop store that sold some few last ones. Good Lord, it sure was a damn good fight, worthy of a Hollywood adaptation. We couldn't see in the muggy darkness and kept stumbling on fallen tree branches and stepping on puddles of mud everywhere that it was a wonder we got anywhere at all. And the water, my goulash. Ickily we were waiting in vain for the water department guys to work their magic. While we waited, we played cards, stuffed ourselves on desserts we hoarded in preparation for the ordeal, and gossiped about the people we knew. There's never a more fun time to have such simple, low-key pleasures like all that than during blackouts, I always say.

In the morning, when things were supposed to look better (as the saying goes), we lay witness to Mogadishu being played out in our own street. Everything was brown. Like, you know, the color of, you know...soil. (You were thinking maybe something else?) The streets were brown, the sky was brown, the air (normally a light shade of smogged-up black) was brown. Hell, even us brown people never looked more brown. The power lines looked like Tarzan came to town and thought it was all right to be swinging around on those black, stringy thingies as a mode of transportation. It was a friggin' warzone, I tell you. And we were living (still are) in beautiful, dependable Makati City already. I had never been so excited to be going back to the office.

And now this. Maybe that's why, for the past couple of nights, when the cab taking me home turned the corner into my neighborhood, I knew something was "off". The streets leading to my place were freakishly dark. Then came the sudden reruns of "V for Vendetta" in my mind and I felt a little spooked. I mean, this is Makati City. City lights don't go MIA whenever they feel like it. The streets in my neighborhood were so cloaked in darkness, as if someone put the lights out in an attempt to cause widespread panic, usurp power by force, and in the resulting mayhem, destabilize the status quo. Oh, wait--that's what Mina's trying to do, actually. So now I have the answer, I understand. Life makes sense again.

***

Oh, Mina Mina Mina. Coz of you, we're not doing Animo anymore. I know, I know. Manila is a long way from Bicol, and even from Mindoro, your presumed exit strategy. But I won't go running around this big, bad town soaking wet. I only got Nike dri-fits; they ain't no waterproof threads, you know. Anyway, Bry, one of the running buddies, is stuck somewhere between Naga City (yes, that's in Bicol) and Manila. The other guy, Jer, is of the same mind as moi and not feeling it. Besides, it's quite likely the whole thing will be called off due to the forecast of strong rains.

Anyhoo, there's always Yakult on December 9th. And the AFP Invitational the weekend after. Seriously, I have GOT to get my A-game on. Need to keep running in the meantime. And put in time again in the training gym in Pasig. I'm getting so weak and everything. Not to mention them damn zits are once again making their bulbous presence felt. It's the usual suspects: work, work, and--let me not forget--work.

Well, now I gotta go. Or else I might be tempted to stay and check out some cool (not!) PowerPoint slides I got a hold of today. Tomorrow is the start of what could be a really soggy weekend. But I'm sure it's gonna be much better than the debilitating agony of the last few weekends. Save for the Ateneo Run, that is.

Update (November 26th):

So. There were no Milenyo-esque apparitions in the city last weekend. Maybe later this week, although of course, I'm not crossing my fingers. So yesterday the Animo Run would have pushed through. Too bad. Oh well.