When I look at buildings and bridges these days, the first thing I ask is if these structures can withstand a powerful jolt. The Sendai Earthquake last week has left a powerful mind-aftershock, that it keeps me thinking how ready are we to deal with a magnitude 8 quake.
This thought is driven by memories of July 16, 1990. I was in school and our science teacher, Miss Cabacungan was about to introduce her lesson for the day. Suddenly, the earth shook with such force, all I could hear were the high-pitched sound of steel beams grinding against one another. The very bones of our classroom were being put to a test and my young mind could only grasp the seismic temblor by seeing it as "two invisible giant robots having a sword fight at the quadrangle."
The city was spared from the destruction, but Baguio and Nueva Ecija were not. Hotels collapsed in the city of Pines, while a school crumbled in Cabanatuan. The aftershocks were so frequent, we got used to the movement a week after the ground first convulsed.
I would like to think the city would be spared the next time a quake happens. But simulations and projections - from expert city planners to seismologist - tell of a different story. With high-rises sprouting like stale mushrooms, unchecked, and open spaces being gobbled to make way for new structures. With money changing hands with government officials - the same wad of cash that could be spent to improve the materials used for building construction. With building codes substandard and tainted with self profit, there is reason to get scared these days.
The day the big one comes with its epicenter at the Valley Fault, first to go will be electricity. As buildings and houses shake, Meralco has to cut the power supply or fires will burst out across the city. Poorly-built dwellings would collapse in minutes trapping thousands under the rubble. Phone lines would be jammed and depending on our digital infrastructure, Internet might be down too.
There will be no Facebook and Twitter to rant our emotions
Knowing our values, panic ensues. The next day, supermarkets, groceries and even sari-sari stores will be swamped by people hoarding basic necessities. Long lines form around working ATM machines since many people keep their money in banks. Hospitals - those that remain standing after the quake will be hard-pressed to attend to the needs of many. Some might even turn down patients being not able to handle the injured anymore.
Unimaginable scenes - from tsunami engulfing towns and cities around the bay, to an exodus of people flooding bus stations and ports to flee to the countryside, to wholesale looting of stores and homes as soldiers try to push away starving masses, to a ruined, burning cityscape, without water, without electricity and rotting with corpses that was once the heartland of the country.
Letting this off my chest has somehow eased my troubles. But drawing up plans and applying it - to make sure my loved ones will have a good chance of getting through the big one leaves me disturbed, still.