Wednesday Ride

Although my nephew is an expert rider and driver, but I was wary still to hop on his motorbike – to hit the road in this enormous city that only tough riders would attempt and grace dependents would bash.

This is his daily route and life, but not mine. And so this ride was very uncomfortable for me. The only time I got to see all the beautiful scenarios was taking a bus, a jeepney, and a train patiently – so safe – in years.

But today was atypical as we went through congested cities. I haven’t been observant as this in my own country beholding each city old and new – in a motorbike ride – a seemingly joyride that a person like me wouldn’t usually dare.

“You’re the only person who has convinced me for such a ride here in Manila, not even my best friend.” I told my nephew, Louie.

It was the first time ever to have a stab at something like this one and jumped out from run-of-the-mill motion. I am grateful I did hop on because this experience brought me something that ordinary commuters will not see in just one or two or three rides. It will take a journey with a nephew on a Wednesday ride.

We started the ride in Makati and went through each modern city and ancient city in Manila. If not for this ride, I don’t think would be able to see a different perspective of each place from a commuter’s eyes like me.

And if not for this ride, don’t think I could catch sight of places of this huge city that buses or trains or jeepneys couldn’t go. Thankful I gave myself a shot because my life had never been the same even for this teeny-weeny moment of an adventure with my nephew.

Aside from seeing new things around, I didn’t realize had been to some of these seemingly unfamiliar places in the past. It only took a motorbike ride to be reminded again and to reminisce once more the long, forgotten journeys when I was still a commuter in this mega city. 

Despite the scorching heat of the sun including the body aches and headache it caused, I was happy still to make the decision because it was one in a million rides to consider. 

Amidst stresses and what this overcrowded world has to offer, my experience for the day was extremely worth riding – on this beautiful day – a Wednesday ride, I don’t know if it will come again.

Alley

“Because I am not a city person” I rather said than regret in the end for saying a terrible comment. Although she is my friend and we’re grown-up individuals, but these aren’t good excuses still for a blunt remark. And so I was right for keeping what I had in mind – a different preference – if possible to stay away from her place – an alley – a home to someone but not mine.

I may have come from a very poor family and brought up in a barrio lifestyle, but I would not settle in a place like this – a mega city – and not in this alley.

I may have hailed from a laid back environment while she is the irony of it all, and yet this isn’t what I understand a sheer bliss. I don’t belong where she lives – and will never be.  

    

The only time I am stuck here on and off, for more than a decade is a valid reason of course – my siblings have found their greener pastures in this alley for now. So I come and visit them whenever I am around. Like any dwellers who share the same rights, this is where they belong they say – only if there’s no choice.

Legally wise, I can be a resident here like my siblings, but I didn’t bother considering the possibility. For one obvious reason is my prejudice against this alley itself. I never like how each person in the community treats another person.

This place is not for me, but I respect every situation each resident has and each choice they made to be a part of this community. A home is not limited to physical structures or the presence of tranquility anyway– it’s where the heart is as one writer says – whether in this alley or not.  

Despite the number of chances I have tried immersing and welcomed a lifestyle not my own, at the end of each day I’d still say…this is not my life. Therefore, I don’t have to sweet-lemon the scenario. I don’t belong in this alley.    

It took many silent years to express this feeling but not judgment. So not in the position to condemn – this is just another way of saying…I am a stranger of the way of life here still. And God knows how I make an effort each time around, but it doesn’t change a thing that I am not for this alley. 

Aside from simply residing, I also tried hard to build a good rapport to the neighborhood and so I am in the right perspective to say something. I may not know everyone from head to toe, but I can see what’s going on every single day – the kind of life which surprises me and scares me to death. Isn’t it action speaks louder than word?

Hope I don’t sound rude or reproachful for speaking my thoughts in this manner.  

This alley isn’t a slum but the behaviors of some are no different. Some of them live and behave worst than those in slum areas. And so how can a village person like me adapt a lifestyle here?

It's Home Still

Now back to undesired routines – things I would not surely miss away from home. But for a person who never owns a car, doings like these including the hustle and bustle are joined at the hip – the agony of a commuter.

Once or twice, and now it’s countless times to mind the number of tricycle rides I had in less than a week. It’s been a month and it will take a little longer to endure the torture of the traffic congestion in this mega city.

For as long as I’m in my own domicile, riding a jeepney every single day is not a choice but a must. Again and again, this is when paranoia hits me the most – not knowing who you’re sitting next to – whether an alien with an evil intention or an angel in disguise.

Riding a bus excites me a lot, but it’s a different story in Manila. I don’t have to elaborate the toxicity of the pollutant released into the atmosphere and the stresses it brings to a traveler – it’s self-explanatory – but not the fear of danger from wicked people – it wears someone out even before one gets home.

Thanks to MRT for the option when EDSA is just too much to go through, but it’s not always an excellent mean to take – for even this seemingly comfortable ride can turn someone’s day upside down.   

Despite all these hassles that get on my nerves… this is home still. I may not be a city person who tries hard enough to beat this lifestyle, a huge place I don’t think I belong, but have to endure it for now – for sure a while.

It took five years to come back home – a two-and-a-half-hour flight – hopefully not a plight.

So grateful for the early morning flight because it only took us few minutes by taxi to leave the airport and get home straight and safe – it was a real jackpot.

With or without special reason and occasion – I’m home. With or without daily rides to take – it is home still. As many people profess, “There is no place like home sweet home.” and so my heart does.