Ang Saya-Saya

Ito ay totoong kwento hango sa totoong buhay - sa akin (yung buhay).
At may kahalo ring kaunting commentary.

Kakasakay ko lang ng jeep sa Katipunan nang pumatak ang ambon na, di nagtagal, ay naging ulan. Nagbayad ako ng P7.50 sa isa sa dalawang konduktor dahil sa Robinsons Metro East lang ako bababa.

Naisip ko lang, ang galing pala: bumaba sa P7.00 ang minimum fare ng mga transport groups noong nakaraang taon bilang pamasko sa mga commuter. At ngayong magpapasko na ulit, tsaka lang ibinalik sa P7.50. Ang talino lang, diba?

Anyway, balik sa kwento. Dumaan kami sa LRT station ng Santolan at, as usual, pinuputakte ito ng mga jeep na nag-aagawan sa mga pasahero. Dahil hindi pa puno ang jeep na sinasakyan namin, ay siyempre may katwiran si manong driver na maki-agaw din kahit nakaharang na kami sa gitna ng kalsada pagkat hindi na kami makakalapit pa sa estasyon dahil sa dami ng jeep.

"Bakit ka takot sa ulan?" tanong ni konduktor 1 kay konduktor 2, na siyang nakasabit lang ngunit sumisilong sa bubong ng jeep habang nagtatawag ng pasahero. "Kambing lang ang takot sa ulan!" dagdag pa ni konduktor 1, sabay lumabas at buong-tapang na bumaba ng jeep para magtawag ng pasahero.

Eh, umandar yung jeep. Naiwan si konduktor 1.

"Hoy, sandali lang!" sigaw ni konduktor 2 sa driver.

Eh, lalo pang bumilis yung takbo. Boom, baby. Hindi na namin nakita pang muli ang matapang na si konduktor 1.

'Yun pala ay sinisita na kami ng pulis. Malamang lang. Bawal yung ginawa naming pag-balandra sa gitna ng kalsada, eh. Pero masisisi niyo ba 'tong mga taong 'to na naghahanap-buhay at walang nahahanap na sapat na buhay? Kaya nga P7.50 na binayad ko kahit estudyante ako, eh. Para kahit papano, makatulong lang ako sa pagdagdag ng "hay" sa "buhay" nila.

Eh, yung pulis, masisisi niyo ba siya? Well, ako, oo (wag niyo na tanungin kung bakit, tinatamad ako mag-explain). Pero sa totoo lang, ginagawa rin niya ang trabaho niya. Naghahanap-buhay din siya.

"Humahabol!" sigaw ni konduktor 2 sa driver. Lumingon ako at nakita ko, medyo may kalayuan sa likod namin, ang isang lalake na may kapote at nakasakay sa kaniyang motorsiklo na - oo nga - humahabol. Malamang, edi bumilis pa lalo 'yung takbo ng jeep. Lumagpas na kami ng Ligaya at humahabol pa rin yung lalaki.

"Ayan na 'yung baboy!" sigaw muli ni konduktor 2. "Ang tigas!" dagdag pa niya.

"Para!" sigaw naman ng isang babaeng pasahero. "Sa Ligaya ho ako bababa!"

Eh, lumagpas na nga kami.

"Sakay na lang ho ulit kayo diyan sa may Robinson." sabi ni konduktor 2, sabay abot sa babae ng P7.00.

Eh, lumagpas din kami ng 'Robinson'. (Oo nga naman. Singular diba? Kaya 'Robinson' lang, walang 's'.)

"Diyan na lang ho sa kabila." sabi ni konduktor 2. Eh, lumagpas din kami sa 'kabila'.

Meanwhile, may isa pang matandang babaeng pasahero na nagsasabing sa Town and Country daw siya bababa at hindi pa niya nakukuha ang sukli niya. Kasabay nito ay ang pagrereklamo noong isa pang babaeng pasahero na P7.50 ang pamasahe at P7.00 lang ang binigay sa kaniya ni konduktor 2 para bumalik ng Ligaya.

Sa Town and Country kami huminto, at hindi ko na makita pa 'yung lalaking humahabol kanina. Ang huli kong narinig bago ako bumaba ay 'yung driver na sumisigaw sa konduktor na hindi naman daw yata pulis 'yung akala naming humahabol sa amin. Iyon ang huli kong narinig bago ko buksan ang payong ko at salakayin ang ulan, ang tapang ko'y nagliliyab pa matapos makahanap ng inspirasyon sa sakripisyo ni konduktor 1 at ang mga paa ko'y matibay na nakatanim sa...well, sa baha. Ang saya-saya.

Mahaba-habang lakad din iyon papuntang Robinsons. O langoy ba? Tapos nakita ko pang natanggal ang pagkakatali ng sintas ng kanan kong sapatos. Ang saya-saya talaga. So, habang tinatahak ko ang baha ay maligalig na lumalangoy ang sintas ng sapatos ko sa tubig na siguradong kagigiliwan ng Leptospira. At kasing ligalig din ng sintas ng sapatos ko ang mga sasakyang dumadaan habang buong-pwersang ini-isplash sa akin ang baha na NALAGPASAN KO NA NGA, EH!!! Minsan ay ginagamit ko ang payong ko bilang kalasag, para hindi ako mabasa ng mga ganun. Kaso, siyempre, isa lang ang payong ko. Kaya, kung na-block ko man ang tubig bahang tumatalsik, inialay ko naman ang sarili ko sa pagbuhos ng ulan. Pero mas okay na 'yung "plok, plok, plok." na basa kaysa naman yun "ppprrrsshhhfffwwweckk!!!".

At ito ako ngayon, baun-baon pa rin ang baha sa aking pantalon, at gumagastos ng P130.00 para mag-blog sa isang internet cafe' sa 'Robinson'.


Images (courtesy of Wikimapia.org)

Oh, Bipedalism... Where Have You Gone?

This is an essay. Stories presented on this post are true stories.

I remember a story that my sister told me about her short stay in Singapore. She said that when she and her companions wanted to cross the road one time, they stood on the sidewalk and waited for their path to be clear of cars (and to look like it will be clear of cars for a long enough time for them to cross). They were surprised when the cars themselves stopped and the drivers signaled to my sister and her companions that they (the cars) will remain at a halt so that the pedestrians can cross. Such is how things work in Singapore...and in many other countries, mind you.

If you're from one of those countries and you're reading this, you're probably wondering why I make such a big deal out of that. It would be because that's not how things work here in the Philippines. If you want to cross the road, you would still have to play Patintero with the speeding cars trying to tag you every step of the way. They do not even try to stop until they're about a few meters away from you, which is already a dangerous case since it would be hard to bring the vehicle to a sudden stop, and as often happens, they fail to do so.

Of this gun-like situation, I've experienced being behind the trigger and being in front of the barrel as well. Before, when I'm inside the family vehicle and my father or my mother is driving, I do feel irritated when I'm thrown forward due to the sudden drop in the vehicle's velocity caused by some pedestrian trying to cross the road. But since I started experiencing what it's like for the pedestrians, my thoughts have taken a sharp 180 degreed turn from being pro-vehicle to being pro-pedestrian. So from this point on, I'd write the rest of this post from the perspective of a pedestrian and not...umm, well...a vehicle. Besides, I don't know how to drive, anyway.

Sometimes I wonder what would happen if I cross the road and then I stay still in the middle. It could happen to people for a number of reasons like: they dropped a coin, or anything, in the middle of the road; or something from above fell in front of them, surprising the pedestrians into a halt. But I wonder what would happen if I did it on purpose. I can imagine a number of probable events, mostly based on what I've already experienced (unintentionally, of course: I've never tried staying in the middle of the road on purpose):

1. The vehicle about to hit me would skid to a stop and barely miss me. The driver gets out of his or her vehicle (or at least gets his or her head out) and yells swears at me for being a moron.
2. The vehicle about to hit me would skid to a stop but still hit me. I stay alive. The driver gets out of his or her vehicle (or at least gets his or her head out) and yells swears at me for being a moron.
3. The vehicle about to hit me would skid to a stop but still hit me. I die (obviously, this one is not from experience). The vehicle vrooms away, with few eyewitnesses (if any at all) getting a glimpse of its plate number. The whole incident appears on the evening news as another case of hit-and-run. The driver, in his or her hideout, curses me for being a moron.

Notice that in the three scenarios, none of them involve apologizing, because the mindset here in the Philippines (or at least Metro Manila) is that the pedestrians should know how to cross the road without disturbing the cars' velocities. I experienced once while I was riding a jeepney, an old couple were crossing the road.

The jeepney driver maintained his velocity, probably expecting that when the old couple sees him coming, they would stop (they were already halfway through the road, mind you) and let the jeepney pass. I hypothesize that that's what the jeepney driver was thinking because that's what most people do (it's part of the mindset of not offending the vehicles' velocities). Anyway, the old couple were obviously too old and bent to make the quick sideways glance necessary to bring them in accordance to the way of life that the jeepney driver had prepared for them. So they didn't stop. The driver noticed and so he skidded into a split-second stop, barely missing the old couple. He quickly set the jeep into motion but at a much slower pace so that he could poke his head and a quarter of his torso out the window and yell at the old couple:

"Ang tatanda niyo na kasi, alanganin pa kayo tumawid!"

("You're already old and you still had the audacity to cross the road at an awkward timing!")

As we passed the old couple, I looked back, and they didn't seem to hear anything. I thought to myself, what if they were deaf? And what if fate had just been one ounce less forgiving? Would that old couple die simply for being deaf? And simply for being weakened by age?

Since I developed a deep resentment for that driver, I'd let out all my sentiments about him here.

First, by the time the old couple came into view, they were already in the middle of the road and the driver didn't get to see when and how they started crossing. So he has absolutely no right to say that they crossed the road at an awkward timing.

Second, if the driver thinks their timing is awkward simply because he almost hit them, then he's making this judgment on the assumption that the old couple had seen him coming before they crossed the road. Judging from the velocity with which the old couple walked, however, it's obvious that they had started crossing the road way before our jeepney came into their view. So he is mistaken in making that assumption, and therefore, mistaken in making that judgment.

Third, it was the old couple, and not the driver, who almost got killed. Why the freaking heck is the driver the one mad?

There is an unwritten law here that when you want to cross the road, you have to wait until the road is clear of cars, and that it would look like it will be clear of cars for a long enough time for you to cross, before you cross. And that's what my sister and her companions were doing when they stood on that sidewalk in Singapore. It's a mindset that you have to grow up with here. Otherwise, you're a moron. And if you get hit by a vehicle while crossing the road, it's your fault.

There are a number of problems with this unwritten law.

First, it's inevitable for pedestrians to absolutely avoid disturbing the vehicles' velocities when they are crossing the road. And the drivers know that. So, what the drivers do is, when they see pedestrians waiting to cross the road, they maintain their velocity or they drive faster so that the the road would *not* look like it will be clear of cars for a long enough time for pedestrians to cross. As an effect, the pedestrians do not cross. And the drivers go on their merry little freaking ways.

A usual consequence of this is that pedestrians get fed up waiting for minutes just to be able to cross the road. So they take the risk and take small steps forward to signify that they want to cross. But this act threatens the drivers' need for (undisturbed) speed even more, so the drivers go a notch higher in employing their tactics and they drive faster than ever. The pedestrians either retreat (in which case they go back to the situation in the previous paragraph) or they persist (in which case one of the three numbered scenarios above probably takes place).

Another problem is that, in that unwritten law, the responsibility to avoid accidents is placed on the pedestrian and not the drivers. That's just outright ridiculous. There wouldn't even be the slightest danger of having that accident if there were no such things as vehicles and drivers. Isn't it that, for anybody wishing to live in a desirable society, power entails responsibility? Isn't it that power, in this case, is in the hands of the drivers and not the pedestrians? I swear, sometimes I wish I was a ferrokinetic (manipulator of metallic matter...sort of like Magneto from X-men) so I could let drivers feel what it feels like when somebody exercises power over them without the slightest sense of responsibility.

At the center of the whole issue is the drivers' refusal to bring down their vehicles' velocities to reasonable levels that would allow pedestrians to cross. In short, the drivers' refusal to stop feeding their need for speed. If we are to do something about this issue, we need to get rid of this mindset where drivers feel that they lose a lot when they slow down. That mindset is totally unreasonable, dangerous, and not to mention, lethal. Drivers do not lose as much as the pedestrians do when the accidents occur. So what if you're thrown forward due to the sudden drop in your vehicle's velocity? Big deal. That kid you ran over just lost his life.

I wonder where this kind of mindset originated, anyway. Is that how far we've strayed from our humanity? We're just given a set of wheels and we so easily forget what it's like to walk on our two legs? Do we not remember anymore the simple techniques of stopping or slowing down in order to avoid bumping people when we travel on foot? And then we still get the audacity to think that it's those pedestrians' fault that they get injured or even killed? Those pesky, primitive, low-tech, weak, fragile, dust-inhaling, accident-prone, slow-moving, endangered, mortal, dying bipedal beings!

Earlier I said that I'd be writing this post from the perspective of a pedestrian and not a vehicle. I was only joking then, but as I came to the latter parts of this entry, I'd say it was very appropriate for me to say that. For anybody who possesses that need-for-speed mindset I was talking about, I don't see them as bipedal human beings anymore. And they may deny that in the surface level, but deep down in their psyche, they see themselves for the same thing I see them for. That's why they crave for the velocity.

They're not humans anymore.

They're vehicles.

That Girl I Saw...

This is is a true story, told from my perspective. And I know this story might not have some significance beyond a personal one, but I feel it's worth sharing.


Around 3:40 pm of Wednesday, 14 March 2007, the Sun was concentrating the full power of its stare on me. I was in Katipunan, on my way home from the last day of my PE class in UP. I was dead tired. Standing in the intersection of Katipunan and Aurora, I waited for an FX that I can ride to get to the Ortigas gate of Valley Golf, from where I would ride a service to take me home.

In front of me was a Miriamite girl in uniform, who obviously shared the same sad plight of being bullied by the Sun. She had a very light complexion...almost pale, I'd dare say. Her long black hair was tied behind her in a ponytail. In the instances she looked sideways, I got glimpses of her face - she had an uncanny resemblance with a girl I used to know, but I'm sure it wasn't her. She had earphones on, apparently feeding her ears with tunes from her mp3 player or iPod or whatever she had.

She wasn't the prettiest girl I've seen, but I found her to be cute. It's not anymore new to me to feel a certain degree (no matter how insignificant) of attraction towards some girl I just saw while commuting, but I seem to have felt slightly more drawn to this particular girl than the others.

A couple of minutes have passed, and so have a number of FX's. But none of them bore the sign "Tikling", "Antipolo Junction", or "Angono Highway" to signify that they will take me where I need to go. The girl was still standing there and she hadn't boarded the other FX's either, so I started hypothesizing that maybe she was waiting for the same FX as I was. When the heat of the Sun's ultra-violent rays was getting unbearable, she opened an umbrella, giving her some shade. Hurray for her.

Some more minutes passed and I noticed that her hold of the umbrella seemed to be weakening. She started showing signs that she was getting tired from holding the umbrella so long a time under the searing heat. For a crazy moment, I thought of approaching her and proposing a deal: I would hold the umbrella for her so that I could share in the shade. And I was about to do it too, but I heard some barker behind me screaming "O, Tikling! Tikling!".

As I turned around, I saw that a Tikling FX had just arrived from a direction nobody expected. People were boarding it and it was quickly running out of available space. The girl, however, didn't seem to notice. And she was still looking at the same direction she had been looking at for the past several minutes. Here entered another crazy thought: I thought of approaching her and turning her attention to the newly-arrived FX (Perhaps I was hoping that, in doing that, we would board the FX together.) But I knew that it would feel weird to be approached by a complete stranger and be told the things I thought of telling her. So I decided against my crazy plan and went to board the FX myself.

Halfway to boarding the FX, I saw in my peripheral vision that the girl had noticed the vehicle and was now heading for it as well. I stood there frozen, unsure of where in the vehicle I would want to sit (because I was unsure of where she was going to sit...and I guess I wanted to sit with her). I looked like a stupid statue with my hand on the door-handle of the FX, but not making any attempt to actually open the door. And despite that humiliation, my efforts proved to be in vain since I ended up sitting in the middle of the vehicle anyway (along with a couple in nursing uniforms) while she sat in the back (along with four men, each of whom was old enough to be her grandfather).

I handed over my 20-peso payment to the driver. "Valley Golf", I said. The driver told me that the ride from Katipunan to Valley Golf cost P25. Unbelievable. I told him I only pay P20 whenever I commute from Katipunan to Valley Golf aboard an FX. And I do that almost everyday. Nonetheless, I handed him some coins amounting up to 5 more pesos just to satisfy him. One of the old guys in the back also handed over his P20 payment. "Brookside", he said. Again, the driver exclaimed that the ride from Katipunan to Brookside cost P25. The old guy didn't seem to hear him (or pretended to not hear him) and the driver didn't pursue the matter.

Then I heard the girl's voice from behind me, "Bayad po." (here's my payment). I don't know why, but her voice sent shivers down my spine. It was...cold. I know the adjective doesn't seem appropriate in describing a sound...but that's what it felt like. Anyway, since she was too far from the front seat, I got the money from her so I could hand it over to the driver. Guess what! It was a P20 bill. And she finally revealed to me where she was heading for by telling the driver...

"Valley Golf."

As expected, the driver stated that the ride cost P25. I'm not sure if the girl heard him, but I couldn't stand it, so I told him again that it only cost P20. And he didn't say a word in reply. Somehow, I felt glad that I was able to do something for her. And I also felt pathetic about feeling glad about being able to do something so insignificant for her. Just how shallow could I get?

Anyways, for the next few minutes, I had one of the most unusual commute rides I've ever had. I thought of nothing else but her, even though she was seated behind me and I couldn't see her. She seemed to be emanating some sort of aura to which I was sensitive. I was so affected that my thoughts were filled with an imaginary scenario of myself having a conversation with her in which I even confessed!!!

"Hey, there."

"Umm... Hi? Do I know you?"

"I was just going to ask you the same thing. You look a lot like someone I used to know."

"Well, no...I don't think we've met before."

"What's your name"

*She hesitates, then reluctantly says her first name*

"I'm Andre'. Nice to meet you. Can I have your number?" (Yeah, I know it's abrupt. But that was the way I imagined it.)

"Umm...why?" or maybe even "I have a boyfriend."

"Well, I like you. Don't worry, I'm not expecting an immediate hook-up or anything. I might not even text very often. I just like you. And I like talking with you."

Further on in my fantasy, our conversations turned more casual, where she even asked me why I was making a move on her...to which I just answered I like her. Then she asked me if I've had (a) girlfriend(s) before and I told her I've had some serious relationships with some girls but no girl ever admits being my girlfriend (which is true, by the way). And then I returned the question to her...Has she ever had (a) relationship(s) before? To this, she answered that she had a boyfriend, with whom she just broke up with. At this she showed signs that she was about to cry - a sight that I didn't think I'd be able to bear seeing. I didn't want her to think that I was taking advantage of such an opportunity so I told her that if she wanted to be left alone I would understand... and then... I snapped out of it all and wondered why the heck I was thinking of such things!!!

Back to reality, we arrived in Valley Golf and it was time for us to unboard the vehicle. Upon putting my feet on the pavement outside, I walked a little slower so that she would get ahead of me and I could look at her from behind...like I was doing in Katipunan. Sure enough, that was what happened...but she walked in a slower manner than I was expecting. It looked almost as if she was...ill.

We still had to cross the murderous drivers' road to get to the Valley Golf gate. Weak-looking and slow-moving as she was...I felt somehow that she was my responsibility. Armed with nothing but that feeling of having somebody to protect, I braved the flow of zooming cars with slow and sure steps so that drivers from the distance could see that we were crossing. And I'm not sure what she was thinking at the moment...but she cooperated exactly the way I needed her to: taking small and sure steps in synchrony with mine. Finally, we were at the Valley Golf gate, where we could wait for the services to take us to safety.

Again, I walked slower so I could observe her from behind. I don't know why...but I seem to have developed this liking for observing people I like from behind, or from anywhere they can't see me. Anyway, I noticed that, in order to stay behind her, I had to walk a lot (and I mean a lot) slower than my normal pace. She walked very slowly. Combine it with her near-pale complexion and her aura...she seemed to have an air of sadness about her.

She went ahead and stood on one spot where, apparently, she waited for the service that would take her to her home. I, meanwhile, have found the one that would take me to mine ("Valley View Phase 1 and 2" service). I was hesitant to board it. I didn't want to leave her side (or back). I didn't know her. I didn't know anything about her. Not even her name. But still...

I took one last glimpse of her before boarding the service.

But the story still didn't end there.

I sat on one side of the service where the window directly in front of me was open. The driver moved the service and parked it in, of all the places, a position where the girl was totally visible to me through the open window.

She still had her earphones on. She held her cellular phone in front of her, texting with the same weakness of movement. Sunlight shone down on her pale skin and she glowed a supernatural glow. She looked like a ghost - a nameless ghost, haunting me through that open window.

And then I heard...

*sniff, sniff*

It was the unmistakable sniff of someone crying.

She was crying.

I thought before that she looked pale, that her movements looked weak, that her voice was cold, that she had an air of sadness. But nothing could've prepared me for what I heard and saw through that open window. She was crying. I didn't know why she was crying. Maybe she really did just break up with her boyfriend. Maybe not. Maybe she just got a text message informing her of the death of a loved one. I hope not. I didn't know what was causing her such pain. But it didn't matter. I didn't need to know to feel sympathetic towards her situation.

Her paleness, her aura of sadness, and her sniffs and gasps cried with faint hints of that cold voice - they drove me to internal tears as well. It broke my heart. I couldn't bare to see her crying. I stared at her for God knows how long. There were times when she would look around for something (or someone). In one of those times, our eyes met for a second or two. I didn't care how weird I looked if she noticed me. My feelings were there, crying with her.

I don't know. Maybe it's just my oxytocin and serotonin biochemical reactions, causing me to feel attached. Maybe it's the effect of some sub-conscious, more malicious, thought of finding an attractive girl at her moment of weakness - easy prey. Maybe "love-at-first-sight" does exist, and that this is a case of it. I don't know. I really don't know.

All I know is that I had feelings for her whose name I didn't know. And I would have to be contented with referring to her as "that girl I saw".

The "Palmera" Service arrived. I watched her board it. Our services went on their respective merry little ways.

I wish I could let her know...

She wasn't crying alone.



UPDATE (16 March 2007):

I also uploaded this uncropped version of the picture to show how much she looked like a ghost from where I was sitting.

The More Ancient Form of Smoke-belching

This is a true story, told from my perspective. It's also a little bit of an essay. And just a little warning...I'm kind of criticizing smokers on this one.

I was most grateful to God for that moment. A rare opportunity had presented itself to me and I wasted no second thoughts in grabbing it. For the first time in my life, I was first in line for the Binangoonan jeep stationed at the Robinsons Metro East terminal. That meant I could sit anywhere I wanted. So I abused the chance to take the front seat of the vehicle, which I would have to share with at most only ONE other passenger. The jeep wasn't going to leave the terminal until it was full of passengers. And since I was its first passenger, it was going to take a while before it leaves. So, for a couple of glorious minutes, I had the front seat all to myself.

Enter the man whose destiny it was to share the front seat with me that day. He was about to sit near the door but I figured that making things easier would be the polite thing to do. I asked him where his stop was, so I would know which one between the two of us was going down first. He asnwered "Tayuman", and I had no idea where that was. I asked him if the jeep would pass by it before Valley Golf (my stop) and he said that the jeep would pass Tayuman after passing Valley Golf. My thoughts were that he should sit next to the driver while I seat near the door since we would come by my stop first. It would be easier for the both of us.

As I exited the jeep, I couldn't help but notice the slight annoyance visible on his facial expression. For whatever reason he made that face, I did not know until he finally decided to get into the jeep. Before doing so, he dropped something on the ground and I saw that it was a newly-lit cigarette. Apparently, he was planning to sit near the door so that he could smoke without having to bother either me or the driver (who, as I later found out, also smoked anyway).

As if I wouldn't be affected had I chosen to sit next to the driver and the other passenger continued smoking. I would even be sandwiched between two smokers if that was the case! It wouldn't matter if they blew their smoke outside the windows. The smoke would always find techniques of making its way to my asthmatic respiratory system - It always does. And what was with that look? As if that passenger was the one who had the right to be annoyed. I still remember all the times I covered my nose and mouth with a handkerchief whenever smokers were nearby. The smokers would look at me as though offended...as if they have the right to be offended. They were making my life miserable for the sake of their temporary highs...and they are the ones offended? I mean, come on! If they have the right to scratch that itch for nicotine in public places (which I strongly disapprove of, by the way), then what about my right to not compromise my health? Especially for an act in which I am not even the performer!

Patience Comes to Those who Wait

This is a true story, told from my own perspective.

It was a Monday...or was it a Thursday? Either way, my first class would start at 8:30am. I got up from bed and turned to the small device on the bedside dresser that I rightfully accuse of waking me up. It was my cellphone, set to alarm at 5:00am to give me a headstart since I take at least two hours to finish my morning rituals, and at least an hour and a half to go to school. I pushed the "Stop" button, shutting the little culprit up. I know that most people would have expected me to say that I pushed the "Snooze" button, but I know that THAT is NOT a good habit.

Anyway, I turned to see my real alarm clock, which was a minute later than my cellphone's time. Yes, it was one minute later than...
...cellph...
...eyes...getting heavy...
...everything...getting dark...
...have to...
...go back to...
...sleep...

Anyway, looking back as I write this, I think it was really unnecessary for you to read that part. So I guess I'll just tell you in passing that I did wake up a minute later when my real alarm clock rang, went on with my morning rituals, got changed, and left the house at 7:00am.

I live in a village inside a golf course country club (and I don't play golf, by the way). So you can only imagine the distance I would have to travel just to get past the golf course's gate. Luckily, the fusion of brilliant minds and modern technology had given birth to the village service, which I can take to traverse the entire length in a matter of minutes.

Inside the service, I spied with my little eye a male student in a white Polo shirt and black slacks for a school uniform. Probably a student from UST (University of Santo Tomas). He was fervently reading a novel, the title of which I failed to catch. But I do remember that the novel's cover had the image of a man and a woman with their arms around each other and their smiling faces so close together that their noses touched. Now, before you start asking me why I'm telling you all this, I want to tell you ahead of time that I can't answer that question yet. Personally, I wouldn't care about such details myself but in this case, those details would be important for the story later on. Just chill for a while.

After the service unloaded us at the country club gate, I rode the jeepney that had the "Cubao" sign. That's the one that would take me to another stop, where I would have to ride another jeepney to go to school. It's a hassle, I know. But I'm used to it.

Inside the jeepney, I couldn't help but notice that the same man I saw in the service was there inside the jeepney with me. He was still absorbed in the book. The only moment his eyes looked away from its pages was the time he decided to pay the driver. Since he was too far away from the driver's seat, I had to pass his payment to the driver.

Now, as you might've guessed by now, I'm not happy with the whole idea of waking up early. So I snatch naps wherever and whenever I can - that means inside the jeep, too. The heavy traffic brought: (1) bad news - I was going to be late - and (2) good news - I got to sleep longer. Novel-guy, apparently not as sleepy as I was, seemed to take the bad news seriously. So, when we passed the first junction, where we barely moved for ten or twenty minutes (or thirty? I couldn't tell, I was half-asleep), he left the jeepney and walked away...probably to get as far in front of the traffic jam as possible, and then ride another jeepney that would take him to his destination.

I remember thinking to myself amidst my dream sequences, of which I remember nothing, how hard it would be for Novel-guy to get a ride if he really was a UST student. In order to get to UST, he would have to stop by the station of LRT (Light Rail Transit...I think) first. Now, to get to the LRT station, he would need to ride either "Cubao"-signed or "LRT"-signed Public Utility vehicles (PUV's). And from where he dropped off, it was very hard to get either. There is another way, albeit it's a more hassling and more expensive one: he would ride a "Tropical"-signed or "Sta.Lucia"-signed jeepney and drop off at Sta.Lucia Mall, from where it would be slightly easier (but only slightly) to ride "Cubao" or "LRT" PUV's. But, judging from the traffic conditions, I thought the hard way was the most likely course that he would take.

Up to this day, I am still puzzled as to how I managed to think about all that while half-asleep. But I was sure that I was asleep because I woke up later on, when the jeepney I was riding started moving faster. We passed the heavy traffic at last. The jeepney passed by Sta.Lucia Mall, where I presumed Novel-guy dropped off before getting a ride to the LRT station. When we passed by the mall, one more passenger got on board. Just one. A male student in a white Polo shirt and black slacks for a school uniform. Probably a student from UST. He was fervently reading a novel, and its cover had the image of a man and a woman with their arms around each other and their smiling faces so close together that their noses touched.

Lo and behold, it was Novel-guy.

"Bayad po." ("Here's my payment." in English), he said as he extended his hand to give his payment. Since he was too far from the driver's seat, I had to pass his payment to the driver. His eyes fell upon my face, and then his expression changed to incredulity. He looked around the jeepney and I could see the other passengers' faces, as if saying "Yes, this is the same jeepney you left earlier!"

Truly, patience comes to those who wait.

And in case you haven't noticed, the statement "patience comes to those who wait" is not only redundant, it's stupid.

And for those who noticed that it is, you've probably read through the entire story just to find out what the seemingly nonsensical statement means. Congratulations you've made it this far. The statement is actually a play on a message: If you're not a patient person, and you've made it this far just to find out the meaning of that statement, then you are now.

Welcome to the COMMUTeATIVITY experience

Welcome to the COMMUTeATIVITY experience. This blog is dedicated to publishing the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth in my experiences as a commuter in the Philippines...

...or not.

...I mean, some of the stories to be posted on this blog might be a little exaggerated, but I'll indicate which stories are true-to-life, inspired, exaggerated, pure fiction, fact-fiction, abstract, picasso, and whatever else I think of as I update.

To all the Filipinos out there: Ayos! Makaka-relate kayo sa mga pinagsasasabi ko!

To all the non-Filipinos out there: Well...You better start reading my blog so you can begin to relate.

Peace!

- Andre' Betita