Will brave the storm for travel.
I had to take off the earphones and shove it inside my bag. I wanted to know how long I would endure listening to anything but my complete playlist. No Ke$ha. No Fun. No Angels and Airwaves. No The All-American Rejects. Just the sound of travel.
A Bus Driver’s Life. Guinobatan-Matnog.
As planned, I was outside waiting for a bus at 2AM. And as expected, there were buses heading to Matnog. I was able to board a bus bound for Samar. I later learned that the driver had no intention of letting me board. He just thought I was the “substitute” for his co-driver who got off at Daet. I look old to many people.
This is the only decent photo I took while inside the bus. All the drifting made all other pictures blurry.
I took the perfect seat. Since everyone was asleep, and naturally, the driver needs to be fully awake, there was no one else inside the bus who I could talk to. I took the seat next to the driver. We talked about his lovelife, the advantages of driving at night and why people in Visayas could easily sell me to slavers.
Kuya driver had some skills. He could sing the whole I Will Always Love You while driving/drifting (from now on, we will call his turns “drifts” because that sounds a perfect word to describe the way he oversteers even when it doesn’t sound right for a bus). We almost ran over a crossing cat but the cat did not accept death by bus.
I learned that Kuya driver is also from Bicol. But we had to talk in Tagalog because he is from Daet, Camarines Norte. Daet has two languages. There are towns there that speak Tagalog and there are also towns that speak Bicol. I don’t know whether Camarines Norte is more of a Bicol-speaking province or Tagalog-speaking province. I wanna find out soon.
“How long have you been driving?” I asked him.
“Twenty years. I started driving back in 1993,” he said. “I was only 17. I had to work because my parents had no money to bring me to school. Back then, I would drive a cargo truck from Pasay to Ilocos.”
“What were you carrying?”
“Plywood. And it was heavy.”
When we were both silent, he sang. Again.
He explained about trailer breaks. I was listening intently, but I just couldn’t understand what he was saying so I just nodded every five words.
To break the awkwardness of another silence, I asked, “Do you prefer riding at night over riding at daytime?”
“Oh yes I do. At night you can see warning lights and most of the time the road is all yours.”
Indeed, he was making the road all his. Everytime he makes drifts, he looks at me and laughs. I admit I had mini heart attacks but I am sure I did not look like it.
“Did I wake you up? That’s the plan!” he laughed. Some thoughtful driver.
He reached for an orange on his dashboard and offered me almost the third of it. I took it from him and said my thanks.
“That’ll keep you awake. Still a long way to go.”
Right. I have to be awake while everyone at the back snores like princes and princesses.
I asked him what they do when they reach they destination.
“We sleep at the terminal?”
“At the terminal?”
“Inside the bus, yes. We rest there for a day. Then we drive back to Manila.”
I realized it’s not just driving that’s hard. It’s also hard when you’re not driving and you need to wait for another half-day just so you can drive for another 24-hours back to Manila. I mean, who can sleep comfortably inside a bus?
And then he gave me a bottle of water. Still full and still sealed. Just what I needed.
“To fight off sleepiness, all you need is water.”
Yeah, as if I need to stay awake the whole trip! Of course I did not tell him that. I could not be very honest to a very thoughtful person.
“Sometimes I look for softdrinks when I’m sleepy and I need to be awake,” I said.
“Don’t do that! You can’t get health problems with water. Softdrinks? Of course you’ll get sick with that.”
For another 30 minutes we talked about his ex-girlfriend.
“I left her,” he said.
“Why?” I was not interested though.
“Do you want a girlfriend who dates another guy?”
This driver is living under a basic Filipino teleserye story. And I am not interested with that so I let him sing the whole Skyline Pigeon.
When he turned on the lights, he shouted, “Retouch! Retouch now! We’re in Matnog! Fix your eye shadows!” Many took it seriously. I must be in Matnog already.
Though the bus was bound for Samar, I decided I wanted to meet and talk to other people so I got off the bus and said goodbye to the driver.
Almost-stormy seas. Matnog-Allen.
The sea was no way calm that day, trust me. I hated the fact that there were many women and children on board the ferry. When the time comes that we are going to need to hop on the life boats and wear life jackets, there will be too many competition. An atheist like me don’t believe in an afterlife, so I fear for my single, precious, can-still-go-places life.
PlanetaPilipinas.com On Facebook (November 12, 2012, 1AM): Satellite picture of the LPA affecting most of Mindanao and Palawan. PlanetaPilipinas.com’s trip to Tacloban City will still push through, though. Photo from WunderMap®.
I did not try and look for someone to talk to because I feared that the waves would slap the whole boat and I would be thrown off the deck. The waves were as high as my excitement the hour before. The latter is now gone. I only have fear left.
That moment, I was thinking, “Is this still part of the Pacific? Noooo, I don’t think so.” Panicking was just normal.
It turned out that the low pressure area had totally nothing to do with the waves. A karaoke was on board, so it somehow brought the bad luck. Two women walked out and went to the second deck instead. I figured they prayed downstairs that some thunderstrike hits the karaoke. Or the men singing. Either way could have been really fun to see.
I have so much respect for this woman for walking out of the deck. I embraced her in my thoughts.
This woman deserves my respect, too.
I hate all five peso coins.
When it was finally over (when we could finally see that Allen port), I learned from another passenger that before, it takes them almost three hours to cross the sea from Matnog to Allen. It only took us an hour and a half for this trip.
Allen-Tacloban.
Looking for a bus to Allen was not difficult, but looking for a bus that’s not full with passengers and their stuff is, so I would suggest that you look for a bus operator while you are still on the ferry if you’re planning to visit Region 8.
I went on board a bus bound for Ormoc. The bus from Allen was full. So full, in fact, that I had to seat on a plastic chair at the middle of the bus. Everytime the bus needs to stop and someone has to hop off, that someone would need to climb on top of bags, tv, and unknown boxed objects as if the bus floor was flooded.
Inside the bus.
It was a long trip but it was uneventful. I just noticed that everyone seemed to know each other. People talked in dialects about things I could not understand. That was something. I was listening, waiting for clues. There’s no way they were talking about me. No way.
When I arrived at Tacloban, the weather was finally fine. I was waiting for my host, Ate Pau, at 3pm at a police station near the terminal.
“So it took me 13 hours to get here,” I told my self. “Not bad.”
Of course it was not bad.
Ate Pau was there in no time. We dropped by her office before going to their house. There, I met her mother, father, two sisters, two brothers, a niece, and a nephew.
At dinner, I told them how my trip was. I forgot to tell them I tried not to blink because the view was so beautiful.
After dinner, Ate Pau had to go back to her office. I took that time to rest. We she got back, she worked on a billboard layout while I chatted friends online.
My host, Ate Pau, working on a billboard layout at midnight.
DAY 2: (To be continued next week)
- Imelda Marcos’ residence (Sto Nino Shrine)
- Around downtown
- Government offices
- Food at Cafe Lucia
- Vino de Coco
- and more!
Soon:
- Clips from the Tacloban trip
Planeta Pilipinas 
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