When we say that God is the king of the flood, do we understand the magnitude of that statement? This week my team and I experienced the meaning. The heavy rains that came to Davao early on the 29th brought with them flood waters that damaged the community of Matina, a place far enough from the orphanage that we were oblivious to the disaster until our volunteer coordinator explained it to us.
The flood waters came from the mountain runoff and rose above first floor levels of hundreds of homes. We had no idea that the flood had come until later in the day when we learned about the waters that had risen at one in the morning. Instead of doing our usual VBS type work in the communities closer to our home, we helped the orphanage gather up loads of donation items to transport to Mantina. On the way, we saw different signs of the flood, trash thrown about, water damage, and a taxi nose down in a ditch. It wasn’t too bad until we slopped into one smaller community that was situated by the river that had flooded. Just taking a look at the buildings told us how high the waters had risen from debris and discolored bamboo. We met with a pastor of the church in the little community and he began describing the flood. He told us that many were able to go to their second floor to escape the waters that rose within a time frame of ten minutes, but that some, mainly small children and elderly, were not able to survive. The death toll from the flood was around thirty people the last my team asked, but I feel that the number now is higher. It was difficult to understand how so many had died until we worked our way father into the community. We walked ankle deep in water and mud the whole way, and everywhere we looked trash and dirt and mud covered the floors of people’s homes.
The faces of the people who lived there were grave and desperate as they waded around, trying to piece back together their lives. We slipped around fairly often, because we weren’t as nimble as our Filipino friends, and we had to be extremely careful, because there were sometimes sharp objects hidden beneath the coat of mud on the ground. After finally making it to the church we were going to help clean up, most of my team had removed their flip flops to better walk in the sludge and mud was flung up our backs from just walking. The church was covered! All of the items that could be saved when the family was awakened by the flood were stacked in the attic where the family had to sleep until the flood subsided. A thick layer of mud covered the floor of the church and every other item that had been underwater. We spent the afternoon taking pieces of plywood debris and using them to shove out the mud. It was a dirty afternoon, but it was nothing compared to what the inhabitants of that community were facing. It wasn’t just a visit for them, their lives had been drowned in a flood no one expected to happen.
The flood waters came from the mountain runoff and rose above first floor levels of hundreds of homes. We had no idea that the flood had come until later in the day when we learned about the waters that had risen at one in the morning. Instead of doing our usual VBS type work in the communities closer to our home, we helped the orphanage gather up loads of donation items to transport to Mantina. On the way, we saw different signs of the flood, trash thrown about, water damage, and a taxi nose down in a ditch. It wasn’t too bad until we slopped into one smaller community that was situated by the river that had flooded. Just taking a look at the buildings told us how high the waters had risen from debris and discolored bamboo. We met with a pastor of the church in the little community and he began describing the flood. He told us that many were able to go to their second floor to escape the waters that rose within a time frame of ten minutes, but that some, mainly small children and elderly, were not able to survive. The death toll from the flood was around thirty people the last my team asked, but I feel that the number now is higher. It was difficult to understand how so many had died until we worked our way father into the community. We walked ankle deep in water and mud the whole way, and everywhere we looked trash and dirt and mud covered the floors of people’s homes.
The faces of the people who lived there were grave and desperate as they waded around, trying to piece back together their lives. We slipped around fairly often, because we weren’t as nimble as our Filipino friends, and we had to be extremely careful, because there were sometimes sharp objects hidden beneath the coat of mud on the ground. After finally making it to the church we were going to help clean up, most of my team had removed their flip flops to better walk in the sludge and mud was flung up our backs from just walking. The church was covered! All of the items that could be saved when the family was awakened by the flood were stacked in the attic where the family had to sleep until the flood subsided. A thick layer of mud covered the floor of the church and every other item that had been underwater. We spent the afternoon taking pieces of plywood debris and using them to shove out the mud. It was a dirty afternoon, but it was nothing compared to what the inhabitants of that community were facing. It wasn’t just a visit for them, their lives had been drowned in a flood no one expected to happen.
Scraping mud out of a flooded church
Some of the damage in Mantina