December 24, 2005

Merry Ride Home

It’s a few days before Christmas and I am relieved. Not just because I’m done with work but because this year I am saved from the prospect of being lynched in the process of trying to get home for Christmas, all in the name of tradition. I’m not talking about last-minute shopping and the mob at the mall. (I am going to be part of that mob later today.) I’m talking about the madness that takes place in bus terminals and port areas during the Christmas holidays. Or make that ANY given holiday in a year. Give a Filipino (with provincial roots) two days off work and he’ll hop on a bus, no doubt.

It’s a sight to behold. In my first year in this so-called big city, I was shocked. Imagine Armageddon. As if the whole city is on fire, people fight for seats and tickets. Dozens try to get to the door at the same time. Proving that the door isn’t sufficient, dozens more clamber on the windows. Add to that the wailing kids, creative cussing by exasperated passengers, and shouting. With passengers packed like sardines inside a rickety bus, breathing is a struggle. I haven’t personally witnessed fistfights as a result of the whole insanity of the situation, but I wouldn’t be surprised if violence does take place. (Heck, people get killed over videoke – make that bad singing - here.) And did I mention the pickpockets who prey on these desperate travelers?

The last time I subjected myself to such torture I stood in line and waited for more than three hours. When a group of women inserted themselves in the line to get to the bus first, we almost dragged them out – by their hands, feet and hair. I’m glad they came to their senses. I guess if a dozen fingers were pointed 2 cm close to your eyes, you would have to.

So, yes, I have a reason to be jolly this Christmas. I will go shopping. I will try to endure the endless queues at the cash register. And I will be praying for those who will have to fight their way through public transport to be reunited with their families. For the last nine years of being persecuted like that, I know I had to pray for my life each time I rode on those buses. But it's always worth it.

Cheers!

Posted by fleur at 04:15 AM