Wednesday, November 11, 2026
Ross Harper Alonso
- “Coconut farmers look up at their remaining trees and wonder when their next harvest will be,” says Fernando Gonzales, governor of eastern Albay province, devastated by Typhoon Durian. “Despite all the relief goods coming and rehabilitation plans on the way, people here are still unable to imagine how the future can get brighter.”
As the people of Albay pick up the pieces and their shattered lives from the Nov. 30 disaster, when a torrent of mud and volcanic ash triggered by typhoon rains swept some 526 people to their deaths, there is a general sense of hopelessness.
Electricity has been restored in very few municipalities. Survivors huddling together staring at the flickering light of a single candle or gas lamp is still a common sight in most of the areas. “We’re working to tap into the electricity of the neighboring municipalities and we’re hoping to light up a larger area,” Gonzales explained to IPS this week.
“Potable drinking water was a big problem so we’ve set up water purifying stations all over. We’re coping but of course people are living in constant anxiety. Some have accepted their loss and struggle to move on while others still dig and search for their missing loved ones. It’s hope against all hope but we let them be,” he adds.
With Christmas around the corner, each municipality will have to draw up its own plans to celebrate. Nothing can be managed on a big scale. It is a massive relocation and rehabilitation project the provincial government is facing now.
“The funeral parlours are now empty but the sound of digging and rubble being moved can still be heard,” says Susan Ante, secretary to Albay Congressman Carlos Imperial. “I’ve never seen Albay this sad; it’s become a wasteland surrounded by an eerie silence. The people are grateful for the volunteers and relief goods that continue to come but what will happen next month, when interest in Albay’s situation begins to wane?”
Others are resigned to their fate.
“That’s how it is with nature,” sighs 76-year-old widower Dominador Lobos looking weakly at the muddy remains of his home at the foothills of Mt Mayon. “One never knows what it’ll do next.” Lobos and his three daughters may have survived the deadly cocktail of ash, mud and boulders triggered by Typhoon Durian, but their spirits were crushed.
“My late wife and I built this house in 1942 and it survived countless storms and eruptions but we never imagined this could happen. It was as if an angry muddy dragon was trying to break free from the raging water,” Lobos recalls shaking his head in disbelief. “We had to cross the river with only 29 other people. Our neighbours and entire families were trapped in their homes. I shouted for everyone to cling tightly to the thin rope the rescuers tied to a concrete house on the other side while they slowly pulled us out.”
For generations Albay residents living around Mt Mayon and the coastal villages learned how to live with a dangerous volcano looming above them. Fishing and farming the fertile land are the main sources of livelihood while others earn from the tourists who come to see Mt Mayon’s perfect cone.
In August 2006, the volcano threatened to erupt and the Philippine Institute of Volcanology and Seismology (Philvolcs) ordered the evacuation of 30,000 people. The 4 km permanent danger zone was extended to 7 km. After the alert was lifted everyone, except those living within the new permanent danger zone, were allowed to return to their homes.
In September when Supertyphoon Milenyo (Xangsane) hit Manila, the National Disaster Coordinating Council (NDCC) and Pagasa Weather Bureau sent out warnings and evacuated 13,900 families living near the coastal areas. Just like in the past, they weathered the storm, dusted themselves off and got on with their lives.
“Fairly routine: storm comes, storm goes, we move on.” Everyone thought nothing would be different as Supertyphoon Reming (Durian) approached the country. “Pagasa and the NDCC issued the same warnings and initiated evacuations,” explains Agnes Palacio of the NDCC. “We tried our best to convince residents to take precautions but many refused to leave their homes and insisted they were not in any danger.”
Some 700 villages around Mt Mayon were levelled by mudflows at the height of the typhoon. As of today authorities confirmed 4,276 families affected, 526 dead and 740 missing.
“I was in the office before noon on Nov. 30 when I suddenly saw dark water carrying debris rushing through the streets,” adds Susan from Imperial’s office. “Pagasa and the NDCC told us to prepare for a signal four supertyphoon but I don’t think people really thought we could be hit by flashfloods coming from the slopes of Mt Mayon. People were running for their lives, some stood staring in shock at the rampaging water too frightened to move. The water came very fast and within minutes it swept people, homes and trees away.”
The next day everything was covered in mud and it was like walking in quicksand. The stench of decomposing bodies coming from the Nuestra Salvacion funeral parlour was overwhelming. At almost every corner, parents and children wailed over their dead and missing loved ones. Others sat silently, regretting they underestimated and dismissed Typhoon Reming as just another typhoon.
“Even before Mt Mayon was showing signs of erupting, we sent out hazard maps and explained repeatedly that lahar flows could happen during heavy downpour.” says Philvolcs deputy director Bartolome Bautista reacting to reports that he disaster could have been prevented.
Albay Congressman Edsel Lagman believes Pagasa did what it could to warn the people, “I don’t think it’s fair to blame any of the agencies for this tragedy,” Lagman says. “We haven’t seen this much rain in Albay in 40 years. We did not anticipate the volume of rainfall would cause mudflows that would go even passed the permanent danger zones Philvolcs declared when Mt Mayon was spewing ash in August.”
For the first few days, it was difficult for volunteers and marines to reach the disaster areas. Without electricity and supplies, work was slow. Agence France Presse photographer Romeo Gacad compared the aftermath to a scene from a disaster movie. “I was walking on concrete rubble that was once a beautiful home. Hardly anything left wherever I went. It was a virtual sea of hardening mud. I stood at the church of Binatayan, one of the hardest hit areas and watched neighbours and relatives collapse in each others’ arms weeping. Conversation about who was still missing and who was found dead was endless, each update more tragic than the last.”
In response to Philippine President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo’s declaration of a state of national calamity, the department of health and department of social welfare and development are leading the emergency relief operations.
A team from the National Bureau of Investigation was brought in to help identify bodies. Many of the dead had to be buried in mass graves because rapid decomposition was posing a threat to sanitation.
Philippine Red Cross chairman and senator Richard Gordon said: “Relief goods are coming in and our teams are busy distributing canned food, tents, clothing and drinking water but this isn’t all we’re doing. We’ve started conducting psychosocial therapy for the survivors and typhoon victims to help them cope with the serious trauma they’re still going through. Many have lost everything they had, whether it’s loved ones or material possessionsà it’s enough to push anyone over the edge. People who’ve suffered this much can be suicidal, forever in despair and unable to restart their lives.”