Nearly two weeks after Taal volcano’s first eruption in over 40 years, the Philippines Institute of Volcanology and Seismology has lowered its threat assessment a notch(等级), and local residents have begun to stream(流动) back to their homes in jeepneys(吉普车), pickups and on the backs of motorcycles. When Taal roared(咆哮) to life on January 12th, the plume(飘升之物) of steam and ash it sent 32,000 feet into the air was so vast it generated its own weather system, with thunder and lightning. As the falling cinders(煤渣) turned day to night, tens of thousands of evacuees fled for hastily created evacuation centres a safe distance from Taal’s spite(怨恨).

Usually, Taal is a draw. The volcano has made its own island in the middle of Taal lake, which occupies the caldera(火山喷口) of a much bigger volcano which exploded aeons(极漫长的时期) ago. The surrounding slopes are forested. Papayas and vegetables thrive on village plots by the shore. The lake itself provides livelihoods to those farming tilapia fish. More jobs come from catering to visitors from Manila who flock(聚集) to the lake, or to the resort town of Tagatay on an overlooking ridge, for the fresh air, sweeping views and grilled fish. The country’s capital is just two hours’ drive to the north.

Yet these times are hardly usual. The eruption seems to have caused a lot of the lake’s water to evaporate(蒸发). One part of the lake, though, is now a metre deeper, since the whole caldera has tilted sharply. Taal’s ash has turned a vast area a monotone(单调的) grey. Rain following the eruption has hardened the ash to concrete. The tin roofs of villagers’ houses have buckled(使弯曲变形), trees have lost their main branches and the tomatoes and aubergines(茄子) in Rosa’s garden have shrivelled(枯萎) to nothing. But life is nothing if not, well, pigheaded(顽固的). Rosa says she and her husband, a retired soldier, had no choice but to stay, despite the loss of electricity and water: Biggie, their sow, was about to farrow(一窝小猪). Fourteen piglets now snuffle(抽鼻子) around their mother. Girlie, from one of the worst-hit villages on the west side of the lake, cries with joy to find that the food she left out for her family’s dog and kitten have sustained them.

The repair teams from the electricity board, villagers chipping the ash off roofs and even young scientists returning to their lakeside observatory in Talisay to get the solar panels for their sensors working again—life has a yen(渴望) for normality, too. Not the volcano, however. The earthquakes following the eruption have fallen in number and severity(严重), and an alarming build-up of magma(岩浆) appears to have diminished. But that, says Paolo Reniva, a geologist, says little about how the volcano will behave in future. He expects Taal’s current cycle of activity to last months or years. At the back of all the geologists’ minds is the eruption of 1754. That blast had the force of a nuclear bomb, and the jargon(术语) they use to describe it is similar: “ballistic projectiles” fell over seven kilometres away; the “base surge”, a mixture of gas and fragments moving at up to 100m a second, reached up to 20km away. No one died from the direct effects of the eruption on January 12th; a 1754-style explosion, in contrast, would be catastrophic.

This is not what those trying to resume their lives want to hear. The current threat assessment of 3 on a scale of 0 to 5 risks being viewed as normal by locals. And just as President Donald Trump downplays(轻视) climate change, so populist Filipino politicians downplay nature’s forces. President Rodrigo Duterte promised evacuees he would “pee on that damned volcano”. The vice-mayor of Talisay, Charlie Natanauan, a local businessman who is campaigning to unseat(剥夺…的席位) the mayor (his brother, as it happens), goes further by urging locals not to believe the “idiot” scientists. Taal is not going to explode again, he insists, because he knows its history; if he’s wrong, he adds, then throw him into the crater. What’s more, the scientists’ warnings about poisoned tilapia(罗非鱼) are off-the-mark too, and he will eat as many fish as needed to prove it. It goes down a storm with locals.

Sitting on a veranda(走廊) by the lake, next to a gold-painted statue of himself toting(携带) a rifle(步枪) and pistol(手枪), Mr Natanauan lays out his plans. They include a canal(运河) cutting through to the sea so that luxury yachts can travel up it; modernist glass resorts; and firework shows to put any eruption to shame. How, Banyan asks, do his ideas fit with the volcano’s even more sweeping and whimsical(古怪的) plans? Pah, Mr Natanauan says dismissively(轻蔑), the next time Taal causes trouble, we’ll all be dead. Behind him, dozens of dead tilapia float upside down(倒置地), slapping against his jetty(码头). Just beyond, the volcano gently steams.

take-home message

  • notch: /ˈnɑːtʃ/ a slightly higher or lower level in a series of levels that measure something. e.g., Turn the radio up/down a notch.
  • stream: /ˈstriːm/ a continuous flow of people or things.
  • roar: /ˈroɚ/ to make a long, loud sound. e.g., The fans were roaring [=yelling and cheering loudly] after their team scored.
  • plume: /ˈpluːm/ something (such as smoke, steam, or water) that rises into the air in a tall, thin shape.
  • spite: /ˈspaɪt/ a desire to harm, anger, or defeat another person especially because you feel that you have been treated wrongly in some way.
  • cinder: /ˈsɪndɚ/ a very small piece of burned material.
  • flock: /ˈflɑːk/ to gather or move in a crowd. e.g., Thousands of people flocked to the beach each weekend.
  • evaporate: /ɪˈvæpəˌreɪt/ to change from a liquid into a gas.
  • monotone: /ˈmɑːnəˌtoʊn/ a way of talking or singing without raising or lowering the sound of your voice.
  • buckle: /ˈbʌkəl/ to cause (something) to bend or collapse. e.g., Heat buckled the pavement.
  • pigheaded: /ˈpɪgˌhɛdəd/ very stubborn.
  • snuffle: /ˈsnʌfəl/ to breathe loudly because you have a cold or have been crying.
  • chipping: /ˈtʃɪp/ to break off a small piece from (something).
  • yen: /ˈjɛn/ a strong desire for something or to do something. e.g., I had a yen [=craving] for spicy food.
  • jargon: /ˈʤɑɚgən/ the language used for a particular activity or by a particular group of people.
  • downplay: /ˈdaʊnˌpleɪ/ to make (something) seem smaller or less important. e.g., She downplayed [=played down] her role in the research.
  • unseat: /ˌʌnˈsiːt/ to remove (someone or something) from a position of power or authority. e.g., He unseated an incumbent senator.
  • crater: /ˈkreɪtɚ/ the area on top of a volcano that is shaped like a bowl.
  • veranda: /vəˈrændə/ a long, open structure on the outside of a building that has a roof.
  • rifle: /ˈraɪfəl/ a gun.
  • tote: /ˈtoʊt/ to carry (something). e.g., She’s been toting that bag all day.
  • pistol: /ˈpɪstl̟/ a small gun.
  • canal: /kəˈnæl/ a long narrow place that is filled with water and was created by people so that boats could pass through it or to supply fields, crops, etc., with water.
  • whimsical: /ˈwɪmzɪkəl/ unusual in a playful or amusing way.
  • dismissive: /dɪsˈmɪsɪv/ showing that you do not think something or someone is worth thinking about or considering.
  • jetty: /ˈʤɛti/ a long structure that is built out into water and used as a place to get on, get off, or tie up a boat.
  • upside down: /ˈʌpˌsaɪdˈdaʊn/ with the top at the bottom and the bottom at the top : placed so that the end that should be at the top is at the bottom. e.g., You hung the picture upside down!