thoughts on fire

Where there’s smoke, there’s fire. The thought flashed into my head as I was drying my hair in the bedroom. Before I could carelessly brush it off, I heard the shouts of warning, “Sunog! (Fire!)” With hair slightly dripping, I looked outside the window and there it was – a big ball of orange fire licking at trees and neighboring houses right across the street. I stood there for a moment, mesmerized by its passion – just like an angry woman spitting fire through the thick walls of her delinquent partner’s head.

The wind blew and the suffocating smell of smoke jolted me out of my reverie. The sight of flying embers sent signals to my hazy brain that this was for real and that I must act… fast. Even from across the street, I could feel the heat of the fire’s ire.

I shouted for everyone in the house, who I found, were already in panic. What to do? Call the firemen? I grabbed my cell phone and what the – I didn’t have the digits on my unit nor my mind. I know, I know… but I didn’t have time to chastise myself for this basic and serious mistake. Before I could panic even further, I heard the sweet sound of sirens and saw the Chinese brigade first to arrive on the scene. I promised myself then and there to list all emergency numbers and never take these for granted again.

What next, pack? But what to pack? What, pray tell, do you prioritize at a time like this? Finally, with my mind almost a blank, I settled for my phone and car keys with the sole thought of just getting everyone out in case the fire reaches us.

As I watched the volunteer firemen pour rain over the fire, I started calling loved ones to give myself something to do. My mobile sister asked to safe keep her work laptop.  There was no time to argue with her on the merits of backing up, so I backtracked and just grabbed it, deciding to save the lecture for later. My almost hysterical nephew asked to save ‘Ponsoy’, his favorite monkey toy, and ’Happy’, another stuffed toy, because “they’re important members of the family too.” I almost cursed but I threw these in the car as well anyway, remembering a time when my Barbie meant the whole world to me too. Our yaya secured her savings and medicine. I went back for my wallet with IDs, passport and other documents.

The fire razed about six houses. It was all the more sad because it was a good neighborhood and we grew up with most of these people.

Fortunately, the fire never did reach us. But the stuff loaded in the car gave us all something to think about what really mattered in our lives.

When we went back to the house, I took stock of what I left behind. I could feel the accusing eyes of my favorite clothes, shoes, gadgets, and books. And oh, did I really forget about my precious jewelry? Our family TV grunted in disappointment. I waited to feel chagrined, but mostly I was just relieved to be reminded of what it all boils down to – that for as long as your loved ones are safe, everything else are replaceable.

I started rearranging things and noted a few essentials – emergency numbers, flashlights, and an exit plan. I was secretly glad to realize that there are actually a lot of things I can live without. But for convenience’s sake, that same night, I started packing an emergency bag with a few basics. You know, just in case. 


--Published SunStar Weekend, June 1, 2013