CEBU, Philippines - I appreciate assignments within the Cebu Business District because that allows me to go up and down those tall buildings via stairway. Most of these buildings' security personnel would let me use the stairs which gives me the privilege to scan the safety level of their fire exits. Climbing up 14-storey buildings allows my heartbeat to go audible. Nothing is as soothing as the lub-dub that has never stopped since day one inside the womb.
For the last two years, the medical findings are consistent: I have sinus bradycardia. Health practitioners assured me there's really not much to worry about the condition. The beat per minute is below 60, but it could be because my heart is trained to pump enough blood in each contraction to allow a low resting heart rate. Mine is not so much of the hardcore active lifestyle. Climbing mountains is just a life, so that may be it!
So imagine the horror when I was tasked to cover a photography and printing seminar recently at the sixth floor of a 25-storey hotel across the Cebu Business District. I could not use the stairs! I got freaky!
Here's what exactly happened:
I approached the front desk to check on where the stairs are.
"The hotel has an elevator, Ma'm," was the quick reply. "You can go that way," he pointed to a right corner at the lobby. "And then you turn left."
"No, I would want to use the stairs," I said with a tone trying to emphasize a fine point.
"Sorry Ma'm, we don't have the stairs. Let me lead you to the elevator." The man replied.
The situation got into my nerves so I asked again: Are you sure you don't have stairs?
That obviously fake, rehearsed, plastered smile on the front man's face faded instantly. A humiliating stare replaced. Was I, a guest there for the first time, asking too much?
I find it disgusting to be in an unfamiliar zone, trying to locate the sixth floor, not even knowing where to throw my guts in case of an emergency.
Still, the front desk personnel ushered me to the metal box. And yes, foolish me stormed in, pushed button 6, and zoomed past the floors.
The seminar was covered. The photos were taken. The printing was fine to "give you a good shot at immortality," but my motor mouth could not stop from cussing. "I hate this hotel, imagine coming in not even knowing where the emergency doors are. Was it too much? I didn't even care for any panic room yet," I complained. That was all I did to invite the attention of a function crew.
He graciously led me to the stairs. And boy - was I happy.
"Anything wrong, Ma'm?" A landing security guard queried.
"I just have to check where these handsome but hidden stairs are because now I have broken my creed as a volunteer of a rescue unit to always be responsible for my safety."
The guard gave me an assuring smile everything's fine as if he could usher a drove out in the event of a tremor or a fire. "Naa man tay personnel Ma'm maka-guide if magkinaunsa," he said.
So, your men are trained not to jump off ship first huh? Honestly!
"Naa sad tay signs posted makita nimo if asa ka moagi to the fire exit," he added in a very soothing voice that would convince you his men would just have all the time in the world to care about those rushing out.
"Gayaya lang," I have this sign in high lux levels in my head. "Ergo, I have to wait for a situation, diay, before I could use your cute stairs. Charming!"
"Sa mga empleyado ra man gud na on regular days, Ma'm."
Huh?
* * *
When will we ever learn that an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure?
I had sworn to this oath: to always be responsible for my safety long before others would care about it, because in the sea of events, other people would secure their lives first before they would give a damn about mine. That's a natural response to that dire need to survive.
Call this over(re)acting. You are entitled to your opinion. I am entitled to what I have committed to as a fire bureau volunteer. Always check where those great stairs are before climbing up the tower of death. Aside from considering the technical aspect of stairs safety like ramping trip points, lighting levels, fit edges of treads and landings with non-skid nosing strips, and maximizing slip resistance of treads and landings, the main idea of locating first where those life-saving emergency stairs are, as soon as you enter any building, is that we never really can tell if it's fully functional.
I know of a commercial establishment that bound its fire exit door with a huge chain and padlocked it to prevent another break-in on wee hours. True it successfully safe-kept the stay-in workers' belongings, but when a dawn fire occurred, the measure backfired.
A friendly reminder: Despite our fire bureau's current challenge to provide rescue ladders that match the height of our Babels and ziggurats, everywhere we look here in our Queen City, there is an ongoing construction work past the seventh floor!