Riding a jeepney in the Philippines

This is my third month here in Philippines now, and some things still never cease to amaze me. During my first week, the situation of the traffic here was a mild horror to me. The limited existence of traffic lights, the ignorance of road rules by the drivers, cutting lanes as and when possible even when it means cutting into the lane facing oncoming traffic, are pretty much a culture shock, considering the fact that I come from Singapore and the LTA (Land Transport Authority) is so organized there. However, I’m a happy go lucky kinda person, and I just inhale all these differences in the name of Adventure.

The most common form of transport here would undoubtedly be the jeepney. It’s like an elongated jeep, hence the name I guess. The front can accommodate another two passengers beside the driver, and the back of the jeep can accommodate around twelve to fourteen passengers comfortably, according to my estimation of the size of normal human butts. However, that is very, very rarely the case. The driver’s estimation is clearly different from mine; the norm is around twenty passengers. So, you have ten butts squeezed along each side of the jeep (the seats are composed of two long cushioned benches, one on each side of the vehicle), and the journey goes on.

This afternoon I was on one of these journeys, and I happened to be seated on the left bench right behind the driver. All squeezed up and since the roof is pretty low, my vision was somehow restricted to just observing the driver. As he wove in and out of traffic, I gazed on in amazement at how he could manage so many tasks at one time. With a cigarette in his left hand, and the steering wheel in his right, he could switch the wheel spontaneously to his left wrist and honk non-stop with his left pinky finger while reaching behind with his right palm to collect the fare. And then returning the change and then switching the wheel back to the right while taking a puff from the left and the pattern continued. I was watching in awe till he approached a petrol station to refuel. As the vehicle slowly turned into the driveway, I kept thinking when would he throw away the burning cigarette clutched between his fingers. He didn’t. The jeep rumbled to the lane right beside the petrol kiosk, and by this time I wasn’t the only person watching him. I noticed the passenger beside the driver eyeing the cigarette uncomfortably too, as the kiosk service crew uncapped and insert the hose into the fuel tank, which was right beside the driver seat! We waited for the tank to fill, and all this time I was just thinking “Are we gonna blow? Are we gonna blow? It’s too soon to die!” The tank was filled, we rumbled on out of the petrol kiosk, and the journey went on.

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