Typhoon Haiyan Relief Effort: Tacloban

Our driver was on his way to the airport to evacuate his family. They had somehow secured tickets on one of the military C-130s. Over the course of our drive into the city Mum Beth asked for his assistance with delivering the new team and relief goods past Tanauan into Tolosa. That was a fair distance to drive, especially with how scarce fuel was. The driver said he was willing though if we would supply him with the diesel required. He asked for 5 relief good bags for his family and his neighbors. Mum Beth agreed to it.

To step out of this story for a moment I feel like I should ask you... Have you seen the hand of God in all of this? Have you recognized the impossible amount of impracticalities that "conveniently" happened in such perfect succession? Can you see how we were figuratively standing still while purpose was fulfilled independent of our ability? We were used as tools to accomplish a masterfully orchestrated sequence of events that would, in the most effective and efficient way, reach those who we were supposed to help according to His designs. 

Once Beth had told me our driver's willingness to help I just gawked shaking my head astonished at how perfectly everything had been falling into place.

We pushed into the city and began to see just how hard Tacloban had been hit. Unlike Tanauan, Tacloban was much more developed with malls, tall buildings, and stores. The destruction appeared less cataclysmic compared to the flattened city we were coming from, but it still was utterly devastated. We drove by a mall that was still standing but looked completely gutted. We covered our faces as that unforgettable smell of death stung our senses as we passed some rubble with the fallen trapped inside. A long line of people stood in the blazing heat in front of a military outpost that was distributing relief goods. Hundreds of people, single file, hoping for some sustenance for their survival. 

Today was the day that everyone else began arriving: The Red Cross, the Salvation Army, etc. Helicopters, C-130s, and Ospreys filled the air flying to and from the airport rapidly. As we approached our destination I felt a chill run down my back. I recognized the very spot that I had seen Anderson Cooper reporting from on CNN just under a few days before reporting on the looting, chaos, and disorder of the post-storm city. I was uneasy but felt reassured as I saw some of our own US Military patrolling. Right as we pulled into a stall for the driver's family to leave a heavy storm rolled in. Big drops of rain came down in sheets as we all jumped out and ran for cover. There was only room in the front for 3 and there was 11 of us. Everyone found separate hiding spots underneath tarps, lean tos, and some just stood out in the middle of it getting completely soaked. The storm passed by quickly to be replaced again with a scorching sun that quickly dried us and began again to burn. 

Throughout the day this pattern of heavy storm and immediate return to high heat continued even until the night. I think we counted six waves of storms that soaked us to the bone in the bed of that truck only to be dried a few minutes later. I was worried though. This kind of constant cold soaking and heating would cause illness very quickly in normal circumstances. However, as was the prevalent theme throughout this trip, we were mercifully protected. 

After an hour or so at the airport (our driver had to ensure his family's departure) we finally headed back into the heart of the city to wind around the hill down to the port to meet our crew. As we drove through what we would call downtown, Walter began to sob softly. I asked him what he was feeling. He said he could feel the sorrow and the pain of the people there, those who had passed and those who had survived. Walter is sensitive in that way. He recalled how the city used to be the decade or so ago when he was living there. How it had changed, how it was hardly recognizable. The storm had destroyed its history.

We arrived at the port.