Reasons to Hate the Commute

#1705 Ariel ~ anonymous

[-Ed.'s note: Like some other entries in this compilation, the following is translated from a Philippine language, which is in this case Tagalog. As with many other Philippine languages, Tagalog uses no gender distinctions in its pronouns, so the translator applied gender qualifiers in the English version, where it was considered appropriate. However, please make allowances for the subject's actual sex being lost in translation.]

This is my own story of why I hate the commute. Mine is a sad tale.

I used to take Era Five buses all the time. They pass right by the corner of the street my house was on. Moreover, I could get off at my stop in Makati and just walk a block to work. It was just easier.

Since my work starts at 7 AM, I used to take the 5 AM Era Five bus. I got to Makati from my home town of Malinta, Valenzuela in approximately 1 hour, so I had an extra hour to get breakfast before starting my day as a regular office clerk.

Regardless of weather, the #47 Era Five bus comes to the designated stop at exactly 5 AM. So when I got there on time, I got to ride the #47. And I really liked taking the #47, because regardless of traffic, it ALWAYS got me to Makati at 6 AM, on the dot.

Because I took the #47 every work day, I got to be known as a "suki," a regular customer. Just one of many, actually, but still, I enjoyed my special status. It meant having a seat informally assigned to me, which in my case was the second one from the door, on the left side of the aisle if you were facing the back.

Being a "suki" also means you get to make friends with the other "suki"... as well as the regular conductor. From the start, I really liked the regular conductor. She was part of the reason why I liked taking the #47 bus. She was always lively, so seeing the smile on her face made gave me such a good start to my day.

Also, she had a unique singsong accent. She stressed the second to the last syllable per phrase. I learned later on that this was a northern Bulacan accent, formerly prevalent around Hagonoy or Malolos. Although since Malolos became a city and accessible via train, only old people have the accent now. Or else really old-fashioned ones.

The #47 conductor did not look old. But then, she never looked the same age twice. Sometimes she was a boy, sometimes she was a girl... sometimes she was short and dark, and sometimes she was tall and light-skinned. You know all Era Five conductors change shape regularly, I'm not sure why - I hear it's to avoid harrassment, and also to deal with staff shortage, but I don't know.

It doesn't matter. You'd always know the #47 bus conductor by her accent. Even if her voice changes, the accent is always there.

That accent made me smile, too.

Before the bus gets to Monumento and Nanay Susan comes on board, the seat beside me stays empty. The conductor took to sitting beside me while waiting for the next stop. She would flip through her ticket book or count her change.

One day I talked to her. I said "Is business good?"

She looked at me and smiled and said "Yes, it's pretty O-kay."

I still remember how she looked like then. She was shorter than me, and pretty, with small white teeth and brown hair pulled back in a ponytail.

We struck up a conversation and since that day, she made a point to sit beside me on the bus, and chat with me to pass the time. At least until we got to Monumento.

That was when Nanay Susan would get on. Nanay Susan was an elderly vendor. She bought her wares from Divisoria and sold them in Ortigas, where her family had a small flea market stall. She needed to sit close to the door because she was carrying huge plastic bags filled with bric-a-brac with her.