Lian, only 17, looks to rebuild her life in the Philippines
By Marissa Aroy
Like many survivors of Typhoon Haiyan, 17-year-old Lian Fernandez, a high school senior, now faces an uncertain future. With her school damaged, a setback in her education is among lingering challenges.
TACLOBAN, Philippines, 2 December 2013 – It's been a long three weeks since Typhoon Haiyan ravaged Tacloban City, and very slowly, the city shows signs of trying to right itself. For school children, getting back into the classroom provides a sense of normalcy and a place to be safe and protected while continuing their education. But, a number of schools were devastated by the typhoon, and those that weren't entirely destroyed are now housing evacuees and displaced persons.
For Lian Fernandez, 17, the setback in her education is one of a number of challenges she's faced. A high school senior, she lives in the middle of Tacloban, in a wooden house with a roof made of aluminium slats. She was with her mother and siblings when the storm hit.
“[I]t's just me and my brother and my sister,” she says, remembering the disaster. “My mother's crying because we can't get out of the house. The water is rising up. So, she cried, 'Help! help!’ but no one is outside.
“We're panicking because we're gonna die,” she continued. “If we go to the second floor of our house, the [rain]water is pouring [in]. The roof is gone. So, I thought, ‘Okay, I'm gonna die. I'm just going to wait here. That's it.’"
Lian describes surviving the storm with a matter-of-fact tone, shrugging her shoulders to punctuate a sentence. One explanation may be shock – means of coping or of communicating with a stranger are others. In either case, the trauma for children in affected areas is high.
A second life – an uncertain future
Considered one of the strongest typhoons ever to make landfall, Typhoon Haiyan (locally known as Yolanda) hit the Philippines on 7 November. Some 14.4 million people have been affected, and as of 28 November, 3.62 million people remain displaced.
It's sunny, hot and humid right now in Tacloban. And though recovery is still very much ongoing, signs of life are everywhere: Motorcycles, tricycles and some businesses are running. Children are playing badminton in the streets.
With the exception of its roof, Lian's family’s house remained intact. Her father, who's in the military and was stationed in Eastern Samar Province during the storm, returned to put up a temporary roof. Fork lifts recently came to clear the mountains of debris on their street. All their household items are waterlogged.
Lian and other school children wait for information, not knowing whether their classmates and teachers have survived or when school will resume.
Lian lists her worries: How will she return to school? How will her family get food? A new house?
The roof of her school’s auditorium is torn off, the floor is flooded with water, and plastic chairs and desks are strewn all over. An upright piano on the stage seems to be the only thing that remains intact.
Lian has attended the school since kindergarten. Her Grade 6 graduation took place here, and it is where her high school graduation will be – if they can restore the facility.
Will she be able to graduate this year? She looks at the wreckage of the auditorium of her school and shrugs her shoulders. "I don't know. Maybe yes, maybe not."
Despite the challenges she and her family have faced, as a survivor, she still considers herself lucky.
"I'm lucky because this is my second life," she says.