After a month, the evacuees—including Gula and his wife, Aning—returned to Tabon-tabon. Meaning “to cover”, Tabon-tabon is located on the face of a mountain flanked by two other barangays in flatter, safer areas.

It’s not surprising why Gula and Aning, 78, choose to stay in Tabon-tabon, even if they’re aware of the dangers. It’s home to them, and it’s where they’ve established themselves as relatively successful farmers for most of their lives. They have a ricefield, carabaos, chickens, several coconut trees.

Recently, however, Gula was ordered by a doctor to stop working because of his age. He’s finding it hard to accept it. “I can feel my body getting weaker,” he says. “Farming is what I’ve done all my life, every day of my life.”

He doesn’t even consider himself a farmer anymore; a farmer is someone who gets his hands dirty, someone who cultivates and harvests his yield himself. Overseeing what his sons do doesn’t count.

Aning says they’re luckier than most, however. “My father used to tell me that parents should not be stingy with their children, or else their children won’t take care of them in their old age.” - Regina Abuyuan

(A portrait of Lolo Gener and Lola Aning can be found in the collection Visage: Portraits of Filipinos Facing Climate Change, by Jose Enrique Soriano, commissioned by Institute of Climate and Sustainable Cities.)