A few days short of two months from the day the flood came. Lives abruptly strewn in disarray are now starting to be rebuilt. Where once people, filled with thoughts of hopelessness and dismay, have now set their minds on recovering.

One hard-hit place is Marikina city. Seated on a valley where a river runs through, it was once the premiere shoe producer of the Philippines. Over time it would also become one of the country’s cleanest and greenest cities.

Touring this place, one realizes that he need not go far to see places of interest. For one, there’s the River Park, its banks lined with many fascinating edifices and concrete sculptures. Not too far off is the Shoe Museum, home to the infamous Imelda Marcos shoe collection. The city also boasts of a Doll Museum with dolls coming from different nations of the world. There’s also a Butterfly Farm which is a leisurely 20 minute drive from the city center.

A recent addition, situated in the vicinity of a major traffic intersection in the city, is a wall of bells, or chimes that are automated to play native Filipino tunes every hour, by the hour. This fronts a water fountain that has become a favorite hang-out spot for young and old people alike, who enjoy the cool mist emanating from the water spout while enjoying the hourly tunes. I, personally, enjoy walking by this place, on my way to work. I would catch a glance of people, like kids just playing around the spot, or elderly citizens lounging around the fountains edge.

And the flood came. Rich, poor, young, old, male, female, Christian, Muslim, houses, buildings, stores, churches, schools, hospitals, and yes even the proud attractions all bore the brunt of the massive flooding, quieting the proud hearts of Marikes; silencing even the Fountain Chimes. It seems the flood waters are not particular about its victims.

Flood waters stayed for a couple of days, and in its exodus left a few inches of sticky brown mud. It would take weeks to clean up the whole city, and a little longer for the veil of gloom to be lifted.

Forty three days have passed since that day, and there I was passing that landmark yet again. While crossing the street, a familiar clanging tune suddenly resounded. It was the sound of the Fountain Chimes, resurrected from the grave and back on-line. Seemingly, the air of gloom began to disperse. Even with a heavy laptop messenger bag in tow, my pace quickened a step as I noticed young boys monkeying around the fountain, while a graying haired person lolled about, probably with thoughts of retiring, or how to source out a retiring income. I thought, ahh yes, back to normal.