Monday, March 17, 2003
This LINK provides an interesting overview on Commuting in the Philippines from which I take this sample:
Buses
There a few nice smelling buses that operate around the country and all of them are in the provinces. A good tip would be to avoid wearing white when you'll be traveling on a city bus. In any case, the local bus service is very dependable despite its shortcomings, you'll just have to get used to the crowds at the bus terminals. Always keep your bus ticket with you to avoid paying twice for your ride when the ticket inspectors do their thing. Buses in the Philippines rarely stop at specific bus stops so if you're not familiar with your destination always ask the conductor to tell you "when".
Buses
There a few nice smelling buses that operate around the country and all of them are in the provinces. A good tip would be to avoid wearing white when you'll be traveling on a city bus. In any case, the local bus service is very dependable despite its shortcomings, you'll just have to get used to the crowds at the bus terminals. Always keep your bus ticket with you to avoid paying twice for your ride when the ticket inspectors do their thing. Buses in the Philippines rarely stop at specific bus stops so if you're not familiar with your destination always ask the conductor to tell you "when".
THE SMOKING BUS
by LZV
Two weeks ago, on the way back from the EDSA shrine in Ortigas,EDSA, I took an aircon bus home. It said "Fairview- Cubao Ilalim" and I rode in full confidence that i would get home safely.
Paid my fare-- which these days, amounts to PhP 9.00 or USD$ 0.16 -- and settled in for the 15-minute ride.
Thing was, by the time the bus reached Cubao, there was a murmuring among the passengers. I wasn't sure why, but they seemed tense.
And then the bus stopped in front of Farmer's Plaza in Cubao, and all this smoke started pouring out of somewhere. Of course everyone panicked and shoved their way out of the bus, afraid that the engine was on fire and may explode. People were jumping across the bus seats like tree frogs. And shouting their way into a mob.
No one was asking for a refund.
I wormed my way out along with everyone. Strangely enough, my brain was going: "Well. If it's my time to go, then it's my time to go."
A second after that thought kicked in, I remembered not having any progeny. That's when I started running as far away from the bus as Icould.
Because the bus was Cubao ilalim, we were in the middle lane of EDSA, and had to jump over the steel railings which were put in place to dissuade pedestrians like us from crossing the highway. Unfortunately as I jumped over the railing, my pants split at the seam, exposing my crotch. Not that I cared. As long as I was far away from the bus, I was okay.
Well. The smoke from the engine was so thick it actually filled the entire highway. While I was running from the bus, visibility was down to 10 feet away before me.
By the time I had jumped the barricades and safely situated myself near Farmer's Plaza, the smoke had dissipated.
The bus never exploded. It was engine trouble. The engine stalled. Driver and conductor were in a panic too. But they stayed with their vehicle.
Me, I hobbled away in my torn pants and took a jeep home, thankful I didn't end up another statistic.
by LZV
Two weeks ago, on the way back from the EDSA shrine in Ortigas,EDSA, I took an aircon bus home. It said "Fairview- Cubao Ilalim" and I rode in full confidence that i would get home safely.
Paid my fare-- which these days, amounts to PhP 9.00 or USD$ 0.16 -- and settled in for the 15-minute ride.
Thing was, by the time the bus reached Cubao, there was a murmuring among the passengers. I wasn't sure why, but they seemed tense.
And then the bus stopped in front of Farmer's Plaza in Cubao, and all this smoke started pouring out of somewhere. Of course everyone panicked and shoved their way out of the bus, afraid that the engine was on fire and may explode. People were jumping across the bus seats like tree frogs. And shouting their way into a mob.
No one was asking for a refund.
I wormed my way out along with everyone. Strangely enough, my brain was going: "Well. If it's my time to go, then it's my time to go."
A second after that thought kicked in, I remembered not having any progeny. That's when I started running as far away from the bus as Icould.
Because the bus was Cubao ilalim, we were in the middle lane of EDSA, and had to jump over the steel railings which were put in place to dissuade pedestrians like us from crossing the highway. Unfortunately as I jumped over the railing, my pants split at the seam, exposing my crotch. Not that I cared. As long as I was far away from the bus, I was okay.
Well. The smoke from the engine was so thick it actually filled the entire highway. While I was running from the bus, visibility was down to 10 feet away before me.
By the time I had jumped the barricades and safely situated myself near Farmer's Plaza, the smoke had dissipated.
The bus never exploded. It was engine trouble. The engine stalled. Driver and conductor were in a panic too. But they stayed with their vehicle.
Me, I hobbled away in my torn pants and took a jeep home, thankful I didn't end up another statistic.
Sunday, March 16, 2003
march 17, 2003 1:57 am
the crossed line
am back in Manila. have been for the past 5 long excruciating months.
strange thing happened the other day. someone texted me about a possible acoustic gig, and he left a phone number. a trunk line plus an extension number. being hesitant to add another gig to my existing sked, i decided to ignore the text message for a while.
rolled over and slept some more.
a few hours later, when i finally decided to get up, i realized this was a wasted chance to earn more money. so i grab the phone and dial away.
immediately, without the other phone ringing at all, i am connected to an ongoing conversation. Crossed line.
so i put the phone down and dial again. same thing. i yell, "hello? hello?" no one can hear me. but i hear them.
A man and a woman. Flirting over the phone.
"Punta akong motel mamaya," the guy says.
"Tapos kukuha ka ng dalawa o tatlong babae?" says the girl.
"Uy. hindi ah. Di ko kaya yun."
"Siguro may AIDS ka," the girl laughs.
"Paano mo alam?"
"Eh, nangangati na ako, telepono pa lang ito!"
the line goes busy.
apparently, the crossed line only allows you to stay on for about 30 or 45 seconds before declaring itself busy.
though if someone on the other line decides to hang up, the line starts ringing again, and i am connected to a new conversation.
i keep dialing.
sometimes i get a fax or an internet conection buzzing harshly in my ear. other times, i overhear students talking about homework, a caterer wanting to penetrate the market of Ateneo, a woman calling to ask if her relative is in the ICU of a hospital, a businessman complaining about inventory, a person working in city hall talking about the scam involving the government bonds and multitel....
i turn on the TV later that evening and it's all over the news. whoah.
strangely though, it is entertaining.
the best call has to be this one:
girl: "Hello? Um.. Kuya Dante? Ikaw ba iyan? Sino ito?"
guy: "Alam mo, pag ikaw ang tumatawag, wag kang magtanong kung sino kausap mo!"
makes me wonder what i would do if i happen to hear someone planning to do somehig evil... i mean, what COULD i do? how would you find out the details with only 45 seconds of information?
this is how you know i am bored. i get kicks listening to other people's mundane concerns.
it feels like "Being John Malkovich" but on a less grand scale.
i am now a phone voyeur...
the crossed line
am back in Manila. have been for the past 5 long excruciating months.
strange thing happened the other day. someone texted me about a possible acoustic gig, and he left a phone number. a trunk line plus an extension number. being hesitant to add another gig to my existing sked, i decided to ignore the text message for a while.
rolled over and slept some more.
a few hours later, when i finally decided to get up, i realized this was a wasted chance to earn more money. so i grab the phone and dial away.
immediately, without the other phone ringing at all, i am connected to an ongoing conversation. Crossed line.
so i put the phone down and dial again. same thing. i yell, "hello? hello?" no one can hear me. but i hear them.
A man and a woman. Flirting over the phone.
"Punta akong motel mamaya," the guy says.
"Tapos kukuha ka ng dalawa o tatlong babae?" says the girl.
"Uy. hindi ah. Di ko kaya yun."
"Siguro may AIDS ka," the girl laughs.
"Paano mo alam?"
"Eh, nangangati na ako, telepono pa lang ito!"
the line goes busy.
apparently, the crossed line only allows you to stay on for about 30 or 45 seconds before declaring itself busy.
though if someone on the other line decides to hang up, the line starts ringing again, and i am connected to a new conversation.
i keep dialing.
sometimes i get a fax or an internet conection buzzing harshly in my ear. other times, i overhear students talking about homework, a caterer wanting to penetrate the market of Ateneo, a woman calling to ask if her relative is in the ICU of a hospital, a businessman complaining about inventory, a person working in city hall talking about the scam involving the government bonds and multitel....
i turn on the TV later that evening and it's all over the news. whoah.
strangely though, it is entertaining.
the best call has to be this one:
girl: "Hello? Um.. Kuya Dante? Ikaw ba iyan? Sino ito?"
guy: "Alam mo, pag ikaw ang tumatawag, wag kang magtanong kung sino kausap mo!"
makes me wonder what i would do if i happen to hear someone planning to do somehig evil... i mean, what COULD i do? how would you find out the details with only 45 seconds of information?
this is how you know i am bored. i get kicks listening to other people's mundane concerns.
it feels like "Being John Malkovich" but on a less grand scale.
i am now a phone voyeur...
