All hell breaks lose when it rains in Manila. The already congested traffic comes to a complete stand still. A plethora of taxis magically disappears into thin air as if the taxis were conspiring to gauge prices. For a foreigner that doesn’t know how to get around the city other than using taxis, you are at the mercy of the weather and the taxi drivers.
“Mam’m, I have a lot of customers to choose from, you pay more yes?” If you dare to refuse, you’ll end up on the street for another half an hour looking for another taxi driver that will readily take advantage.
This morning I went down onto the street like I have always done since moving to Rockwell. Normally, it takes around 5 to 10 minutes to hail a cab. However, in the rain plus the ongoing Christmas pilgrimage (this topic is for another day), getting a taxi is mission impossible. After waiting for 5 minutes, I noticed this foreigner across the street from me competing for a taxi, so, I moved closer to the cross street. After he noticed that I have moved in front of him, he moved too. I changed my location again to stay ahead, and he followed. This time, he didn’t just follow, he headed in front of me. “How dare he?”. I thought to myself. I waved harder, raised my arm higher, and tipped toed more to gain more visibility, but to no avail. The man was taller, had longer arms, and looked Caucasian which might translates into a better customer (or target depending on how you see it). Thirty minutes had passed, we were still doing our dance for the amusement of taxi drivers. The stranger walked across the street and asked me where I was heading. “Ortigas.” I said. “Me too. Do you want to share a cab?”. Out of desperation, I agreed. We split up into different corners, continued our hail-a-cab cha-cha, another 20 minutes must have gone by and he got us a cab while standing in the median of the street. We small talked until I arrived at my office building. “I would never have gotten into a cab with a perfect stranger, but in the rain in Manila, it’s a different story” I thought to myself as I handed him the cab fare.
The dreaded evening commute has arrived sooner than expected. Andrew and I have been sharing a taxi to Rockwell in the evenings. After the horrible wait this morning, I had no patience for a repeat of this morning. “Andrew, let’s take the MRT.” I suggested. Andrew looked at me and said, “Have you ever taken the MRT before?”. “Yes, once, with Marly” I said proudly. He laughed, “only once?”. He shamed me into silence.
The MRT cost P10 or $0.23 per person, which is about one tenth of the taxi fare when there’s no traffic. After a short MRT ride, Andrew and I trotted in the rain searching for a taxi, jeepney, a converted motorbike to take us to the Power plant mall. The taxis were full or heading to the wrong direction, the jeepneys were so packed that only the heads of the passengers were inside the jeepneys and their bodies were hanging outside the back of the jeepneys, and the converted motorbikes were packing five or six people when it was only meant for three or four. Finally, two passengers got out of a jeepney, I jumped onto the jeepney with my Louis Vuitton bag tightly tucked under my arm, Andrew hopped in with his wet suit pant still hanging outside the jeepney. We handed over P16 altogether and squeezed in for a hard seat in this hot, sticky, and polluted jeepney. Andrew tries not to smile but I had this huge grin on my face. This has been the best adventure that I have had in three months in the Philippines!
The jeepney stopped after Andrew said something to the driver in Filipino. We ended up right outside the Power plant mall. As soon as we walked into the mall, there’s Salvatore Ferragamo, DKNY, Armani Exchange, and all the high-end stores. The contrast of the jeepney and the mall was impossible to miss. As I was about to exit the mall to head home, I thought, “If it wasn’t because of the rain, I would never have the opportunity to peek outside of my luxurious foreigner lifestyle bubble. Thanks to the rain, I had the best commute of my life!”
