Malilong: Surviving the drought

IT was drizzling when I was in Surigao City Thursday morning. It was also drizzling when I left Cebu the day before.

But unlike in Mindanao’s most northeastern city where the water spewed vigorously, if gently, from the overhead shower, there was not even a hesitant drop from our faucet when I opened it on Wednesday morning.

There hasn’t been any for weeks now. But I am not complaining. I used to rail against the MCWD for not preparing for the dry months other than telling their hapless customers to brace for waterless days, which are actually waterless weeks and which are the inevitable consequence of their lack of concern, if not sheer incompetence.

Summer is predictable. There’s no rocket science there. Why MCWD has not until now been able to address the problem of the usual water sources drying up during this period is still beyond comprehension.

It couldn’t be the lack of money because the water district is raking in bundles of it every day. By the way, do they still charge minimum fees for services that consumers no longer enjoy?

Just asking. As I said, I am not going to complain anymore. I have gotten used to the lack of water and have developed my own survival techniques. For example, I have learned to take a full bath with only a half pail of water and a half bath with even less, half-bath meaning washing only your face, armpits and the area around your genitals.

From Surigao, I took a quick trip to Cagayan de Oro with my Walk and Talk friend Lester Razo to meet with another W&T buddy, Noli Caisip. Actually, it wasn’t really quick. The car ride took about five hours, but it was enjoyable. We stopped at Gingoog because it was my first visit there and also to try the food at Adelfa’s, which a columnist of a national daily wrote about. The tapioca and the fruit salad did not disappoint.

Campaign posters dotted the highway all the way to CDO, creating a festive atmosphere in an otherwise typically quiet rural setting. You can see which senatorial campaign was well-funded by just looking at the grossly abundant and glossy posters of Bong Go, Bato dela Rosa and Cynthia Villar. The disparity between the rich and the poor candidate was nowhere more evident than in the area in front of the municipal building of a town in Surigao del Norte (Ketcharao?) where the tarpaulins of Go, Bato and Villar hung prominently from a lamp post. Beneath them was a sack cloth with Neri Colmenares’ name crudely written on it.

I was looking for a campaign poster of my favorite candidate, Dean Chel Diokno, but was disappointed to see none until my neck grew stiff from the search. Of course, I will vote for Diokno and Colmenares. And maybe, JV Ejercito, too. I will definitely not vote for any of the actors.

Speaking of Diokno, I requested his daughter, Laya, to arrange a meeting with him during the national convention of lawyers in Iloilo two weeks ago. I waited for him outside the convention hall but left after 15 minutes because I saw him being mobbed by his lawyer fans after he spoke in the panel discussion on the West Philippine Sea and thought that he had no more time for our appointment.

I was already in the hotel lobby when his assistant called, saying Diokno was asking where I was. After I replied and before I could offer to go back to the convention center, he put down the phone.

Three minutes later, he was in the Richmond lobby.

Such humility. Other people would have demanded that I go back to where he was since it was I who had asked for the meeting. But not Chel Diokno. Obviously, he has been raised well by his father, a true patriot and one of the greatest men to have served in the Senate, Jose W. Diokno.

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