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Thursday, May 21, 2009

The Pinoy Driver's Oath

If PUV drivers are made to take an oath, this will be it:

I am a public transporation driver and I am a Filipino.

I will park my vehicle whenever and wherever I want to. I will not care if the road is only 2 meters wide and nothing else, not even a bicycle, can go through because of my incredible parking.

I will load and unload passengers on designated areas only, specifically where there is a sign that reads, 'NO Loading, NO Unloading'.

I will swerve and cut other vehicles with total abandon.

I will limit my speed to 120kph when driving along EDSA. It is a good venue to hone my Kimi Raikkonen skills.

I will obey traffic rules and regulations only when a policeman or a traffic enforcer is in sight.

I will remember the meaning of each traffic light: Red means STOP LATER, Green means GO AHEAD OF EVERYONE ELSE and Yellow means GO FASTER.

I will send SMS and make phone calls while driving. Multi-tasking is a good way to improve the economy.

I will smoke stick after stick on the road so my passengers can inhale the nicotine too.

I will wear sando, ragged shorts and slippers when driving. Clean fingernails and combing is not part of my grooming.

I am a public transporation driver and I am a Filipino.

Friday, May 08, 2009

It's a mistake to always have the Yaya in tow...

It was Eone's scheduled checkup with her pedia and we had to wait for hours because when we arrived at 11AM there were about 20 more on queue ahead of us. As usual, it would be a pretty long and boring wait.

But not too boring this time.

There was this boy who seemed to be lost and looking for his mom. He was crying out, frantically searching for his parents around the corridors. My Yaya attempted to talk to little boy but hesitated, perhaps unsure of what to tell him. Then Yaya came to me, shaking her head while murmuring her disbelief as how could a parent lose a child in a hospital where there's not too much people.

After a few more wailing (which started to break a few onlookers heart), a lady approached the boy and asked him where his parents were. Minutes later, the boy came out with his mother holding him by the hand. It turned out the parents were inside the clinic with the boy's younger sibling.

So that was the end of the story? Not yet.

Suddenly, I overheard my Yaya talking to the boy's mother saying (in her very disticnt Batangena accent) 'Kayo po pala ang Ina nyan? Eh kanina pa hanap ng hanap eh. Utas na nga sa pag iyak. Sabi nya "Mommy, Daddy, how are you?"'

I didn't know what to do first. Drag her away or pretend I didn't know her.

Thursday, May 07, 2009

The Welcome Letter

My job enables me to spend lovely mornings in beautiful and exciting places. But hey, when I say exciting it doesn't always mean fun.

Take for example one trip I had in Sri Lanka, where everybody knows there is an ongoing civil war between the government and the Tamils.

Sure, they said that tourists and foreigners were not targets. Yes, the country is amazingly aged and old fashioned, but nevertheless beautiful. And thank you, I flew there on business class (as consuelo de bobo). But if you get a welcome letter like this, would you be able to settle snuggly in bed at night?


I wasn't allowed to take any pictures (but of course I manage to steal some shots, hihihi) and forbidden to step outside the hotel. On one occassion when I tried walking towards the beach, military men patrolling the streets stared at me as if I have a big sign on my head saying, "I have no underwear!".

Jeez, I need a hazard pay!
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