Saturday, November 19, 2016

10:19 PM | Saturday Night Downpour

Once I found myself downtown, the sudden downpour earlier in the evening finally proved it wasn't so bad after all. The world was extremely wet, but that was all. When my tricycle passed by the Rizal Boulevard on the way home to Tubod, I could see that the Saturday night people were already marking territory in Allegre and the earnest trio of belters at Coco Amigos were going about their little streetside stage in their usual musical dervish, owning a spirited rendition of Madonna's "La Isla Bonita." Farther on turning left at the corner of Aldecoa Drive, I could see that the axis of Tubod -- a regular impassable caldera of rain water -- was devoid of the usual flooding, so the rain must have been light in this side of town. It wasn't so when I was at the mall, where I had decided earlier to get a quick dinner in my attempt to avoid my usual routine for a weekend day. I was already drinking cappuccino at The Bean when the rains came -- a short temperamental torrent that bewildered the people at the mall for its unexpected ferocity. By one mall entrance, I could see a man having a heart attack, and an usyoso crowd had quickly gathered around to commiserate with the man's frantic daughter, all of them waiting for an ambulance that was yet to come. It must have gotten stuck in the traffic just outside the mall. The stretch was a furious mix of honking automobiles, and masses of people suddenly and inexplicably pouring from everywhere, and of course the surprise of the gorging flood. In that part of Calindagan, there was no road at all; there was a river in its place, a stream of cruddy brown water in a race towards the Ceres terminal, which had by then become a very deep lake. I was lucky I had flagged down an empty tricycle just in time, which rescued me from the surging waters. Later, for a moment, while stuck in that tricycle as we waited for the traffic to clear a little, the world to me looked like it was having a little apocalypse -- but even so, the voices from the nearby cockpit were loud and throaty with their sabong bets, never mind the rain. I decided quickly that the world might soon end, but cockfighting was forever.

Labels: dumaguete, life

[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich

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