After the Typhoons

"I have 7 kids and I can’t forget what happened to us last year. We live right beside the sea. I’m one of them who live by the sea. Come the typhoons— the first of them Typhoon Rolly— our house was still standing. There were things to salvage. After a few days, I think it was a week, another typhoon came, the strong typhoon: Ulysses. That’s when we suddenly lost everything. The waves took everything. I could never forget it because we lost everything. Even our animals died. I can’t forget it because there was barely anything left of our house. I just held on to one of the pillars of my house telling myself that maybe we can salvage just a part of the house. Even just the roof. But nothing was left. Everything was destroyed."

“When the two consecutive typhoons came, Rolly and Ulysses, it was... frightening. The ocean overflowed until it reached our barangay. The ocean here was so deep. We all ran into the city. The wind was so strong. So many of the houses here were destroyed. 31 houses were destroyed.

We’re still only starting to recover, starting to find livelihoods again, trying to rebuild our homes that were taken away by the typhoons. But life is so hard here where we live. We try to find livelihood, we try to find something that can feed our kids.

If another typhoon comes— that’s what we’re really dreading, what we’re scared of. We said, what will happen if our houses are destroyed again? It will be so hard. We wouldn’t know what to do here.

I’m so scared. It’ll be heartbreaking for those who already lost their homes.

We ask people who have a hand in these typhoons, to not let it happen like this again. Because it’s so hard. If you ask us, the people here, we don’t want these typhoons to happen again. We wouldn’t know where to go. Especially when the ocean gets so deep. We wouldn’t know where to run to.”

"The typhoons came so suddenly. Us up on the mountain didn’t know they were coming. We didn’t know there would be three. It was only in God’s pity that we were able to make make it out alive. Everyone else went into the towns— I was left here. I didn’t know the typhoons would get even stronger. All my abaca was taken away.

I thought my abaca could make it easier for my family to live, but it all got wiped out by the typhoon. Now, because of the typhoons, we can only eat gabi (a rootcrop)."

“This photoseries is the culmination of our work

as youth-led organizations who are witness to the devastating effects of our warming climate to our people. The climate crisis is here-- it is felt today, by the millions of us who are affected year by year by the inaction of our leaders. As I end this series of first-hand accounts from typhoon survivors who held on to their homes and loved ones during the wickedness of Typhoon Ulysses and Rolly, I look to Mae's sister who is pictured here. Her family is one of the thousands we were able to visit during our relief programs, who because of the typhoons and the pandemic, were burdened economically, emotionally, and physically. Who up to now, need our help. When I first visited them, Mae's sister was sleeping in a makeshift crib, as if caught in a net-- poetically caught in this crisis she was born into.

I only ask that we finally consider the experiences and realities of the Global South, of the people here, in Camarines Sur, when we talk and make promises about change. It is not only our future that is at stake, but our day to day living in this mess. We don't need anymore promises, we need action today, right now, to fix this system, a system that has ignored us for far too long.”

"Life is difficult especially after the typhoons. There’s so much struggle on our island. The waves reached our houses, and that’s why our houses are like this now— made of bamboo. The people here had to stay in our house during the typhoon because their houses were destroyed. The trees started falling. Everyone was in my house and I told them that we just need to stay alive. It doesn’t matter if our house is full, we just need to stay alive.

I put some of my neighbors under the table. All of us were already completely drenched from the typhoon. We had no roof. There was nowhere to go. No big house to go to. So they stayed with us and I told them that the most important thing is for us to stay alive, even if we were all drenched from the rain. We were all just squeezing into the rooms. We were all getting rained on because our roof was destroyed. Our house reached the sea. The waves were so big already."

“I have 5 kids. Small kids. It’s so hard when you have small kids. The water entered that’s why we had a hard time. It was so strong— the sea reached up to here. The water reached our knees but God’s

pity saved us. My children already experienced a hard life. My children are still so small.”

"My kids who were studying can’t study anymore. Come the typhoon, we were all just here on our mountain trying to make ends meet. Now life is hard. We just need some help.

Our life is even more difficult now. I used to be able

to make ends meet with my abaca. But since the typhoons, there’s been little to harvest. All we can harvest now is Gabi, which is all we can eat— even with my child getting sick. I just hope we get some help."

"Nothing was left to farm. Everything was picked up and stolen by the typhoon. The only thing that’s left is what you can’t pick up: that’s only gabi because its deep underground. That’s what my kids sell, and what gives us enough money to buy their younger siblings some milk. And on the days we have nothing, we just have to make do with what’s left. We just have to endure it."

"Look at me and my problems— at least my kids get to go to school. But it’s hard to go to school when you have nothing. Even just the milk of my kids, I don’t have enough for. That’s what I think of— the lives of my kids. How many times have I just cried thinking about it. Who can we ask from help from? Even if I ask to borrow money from the store, they won’t lend me any money.

That’s why I tell my kids to study hard because that’s the only thing I can do for them— put them to school. Even if they don’t have anything to bring to school, just keep going. So they don’t end up with my life. That’s what I tell them. Even if the roof over our heads is just a tarp— even if we don’t have a roof. Just get a little money for the milk of the younger kids. Just a little rice. Even just a little."

WORDS & IMAGES BY ISSA BARTE

In the middle of a global pandemic, climate-induced disasters rallied across the Philippines making the already hard year even worse for Filipinos. This is the story of some of those who survived Typhoon Ulysses and Rolly in 2020—about how typhoons don't just come and go. They take everything with them. These are the stories of typhoon survivors who shared their stories with me and let me share them to you.

Names and exact locations have been omitted to protect the interviewees. Words have been transcribed from interviews in Tagalog and Bicolano to English for this project. This photoseries is the culmination of more than a year’s work with For the Future PH and Kids for Kids PH for the Climate Emergency Fund from 2020’s typhoon season. Also made possible with Youthtopia World who sponsored the documentation trip to Bicol.

That more people from around the world realize the terrifying effects of ignoring the climate crisis. That the consequences of our warming world are felt, notin the near future, but today and the past years by my people. Our warming world is showing itself and its wrath us who have little to no hand in aggravating it. My call to action in this story is to help support our Climate Emergency and Typhoon Fund as we prepare for the inevitable typhoons that will surely come our way again.

Issa’s story is the recipient of a PWB Micro-Grant.

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