I wrote the following piece a few years back (posted it on my old LJ!). Since I was car-less all throughout high school and college, I became a hardened, street smart commuter. In the years I spent riding the jeepneys of Katipunan, there was this one particular vehicle that stood out, thanks to a pot-bellied stuffed toy.
To get to school, I walk a full kilometer from my house to the subdivision gate. It takes two jeepney rides and another kilometer of walking to reach Moro. During these uneventful treks, I rarely speak aside from the customary “boss, bayad” and “para.” Furthermore, most of the things I encounter don’t evoke a feeling of wonder – everything seems to be bland and nonsensical as I go through the motions of this daily routine.
My mind is on autopilot all throughout this hour-long (depends on the traffic situation) exercise. I generally think about the same things all over again, as if these thoughts were recorded in an aging VCR player to be rewound and replayed over and over again. Yes, there are times when events that are out of the ordinary arouse my dormant attention. In example, there were a few instances wherein I almost sprained my ankle after stepping on loose stones or cracks in the pavement.
These are rare occurrences that take place once in a blue moon – more often than not.
My earliest memory of that particular jeepney was about six months ago. It was about 730pm in the evening and I was on my way home with Kim from training. The specific events that occurred in that day elude me, but I can vaguely remember feeling somewhat depressed. I was staring blankly at eternity when I began to notice the interior aesthetics of this public transport mainstay. The jeepney’s ceiling was covered almost entirely by a red cushion, dirty with a few years’ worth of dust and grime from the busy roads. The dashboard was decorated with all sorts of mementos and accessories ranging from the names of the driver’s kids and wife, to a Mc Flurry cup given new life as a container for the driver’s earnings. In addition, there were two air freshener cans that hung upside down on top of the gearbox.
The most vivid decoration that caught my attention was the Winnie the Pooh stuffed toy. Placed at the right side of the dashboard, it was suspended by a combination of strings, high above the dash, in full view of all the passengers. As I stared blankly at that yellow cartoon character, I started to feel a little light – happy even.
Jeepney rides (or any other car or public transport ride for that matter) are meant to be treated with some measure of indifference simply because it has been part of that daily, uneventful routine of ours. In a span of six months, I have ridden countless featureless jeepneys that I instantly forget once I disembark. That particular Winnie the Pooh stuffed toy injects a dose of life into this anemic routine of mine. Each time I ride in that particular jeepney, Winnie and his round yellow belly are a welcome sight
The most vivid decoration that caught my attention was the Winnie the Pooh stuffed toy. Placed at the right side of the dashboard, it was suspended by a combination of strings, high above the dash, in full view of all the passengers. As I stared blankly at that yellow cartoon character, I started to feel a little light – happy even.
Jeepney rides (or any other car or public transport ride for that matter) are meant to be treated with some measure of indifference simply because it has been part of that daily, uneventful routine of ours. In a span of six months, I have ridden countless featureless jeepneys that I instantly forget once I disembark. That particular Winnie the Pooh stuffed toy injects a dose of life into this anemic routine of mine. Each time I ride in that particular jeepney, Winnie and his round yellow belly are a welcome sight
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