Monday story

You’ve been stuck there­- inside a rusty, fish-smelling jeepney that’s probably as old as its driver who may have last taken a bath in World War II and hasn’t again since- and you’re possibly getting late for work on what you thought would be a ‘fresh’ and ‘positive’ Monday morning.

In front of you is a lack-speed parade of glossy, air-conditioned cars of all shapes, sizes, colors, and prices. Inside them, fair-skinned people-adults in pastels of executive wear and children donning crisp, pearl-white school uniforms.

Pardon the tone of insecurity and sarcasm.

This scene greets me every single day when I travel to work in the morning, as if a reminder that this world is not perfect so you can’t expect to start your day with ease, comfort and convenience. I am among a flood of commuters- workers, students, professionals, vendors, cock-fighters and cocks- who need to get stuck within 30 to 45 minutes in dire traffic to give way for the posh vehicles ferrying richer kids to a university which I don’t need to name.

Honestly, I don’t know who to point fingers here. Why should traffic be a problem anyway: We live in a province!

Do we blame ourselves, commuters for getting up from bed not in the earliest possible time, even with knowledge of what awaits us, and therefore putting at risk our Oh-so-clean DTRs?

Or is it more appropriate to prosecute the private cars and d owners who should have joined us in public transportation instead, and save the world rather than creating an opposing current to the wave of the lower classes? Can they not evoke a sense of community?

Or do we blame the traffic enforcers for seemingly not being able to engineer the solution to what has been a recurring problem?

Do I just ACCEPT that this is a fact of life, and is probably a sign of something positive (more cars, more wealth, more progress) or negative (the lack of discipline, the poor implementation of law, the double-standards of society, the inefficient government), and that we can do nothing about it.

But after nearly an hour waiting, your jeepney and the driver whose sweat has now dried up to salt, is finally moving forward and so do you. Freedom at last! You can now rush to your office, face your desk as well as a new reality, get engrossed ­- until you finally forget how in the same morning, you have revalidated your concept of society hoping to explain why you are caught in traffic.

Tuesday is almost the same story.




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