Jeepney Wonderings #2 - Community

I cried on a jeepney. I was hot, I had a headache, sweat was running down my leg and dripping into my shoe, there was an elbow in my ribs. But my tears were of respect, of love, of awe.

Life is difficult. Things are hard. Jeeps are cramped. Sweat is universal. Hawkers scream and shout for a commission, the ceres bus races by, honking a warning. The traffic cop whistles and lets the next wave through. Smoke from the turo turo stall swirls in the windows and settles in your throat. A woman balances a baby and toddler on her lap. An old lady struggles on with baskets of goods to sell. A brother supports his sisters sleeping head. A small school boy squeezes into the gap opposite me. The conductor bangs and yells. We are full. But we are more than that. We are a community. We are strangers going in the same direction. The journey unites us and we act as a family would.

First the guiding hands of the conductor to the small boy, the shuffling hips to find a space, the encouraging smile. Then the concern over the sick child, a fan offered in silent friendship and accepted with gratitude. A divergence to drop her at home. The waiting dad, concern written in his eyes. The gentle hands support her down the aisle;  the conductor lifts her out to her father. Not her mother that cradled her head and wiped her brow, a stranger.

The old lady hails the conductor. Basket after basket slid down the aisle from hand to hand; careful, don’t break the eggs, bruise the fruit. The driver waits patiently as she shuffles down the aisle, is helped down the steps. Pulls the brake on and tells the conductor to walk her across the road. We all nod. She waves him off and gathers the strength she will need. We tut-tut in unison, but smile at her tenacity.

The mother places her son next to her and hands him a drink. The conductor makes sure he is settled before banging and shouting, no need, a stranger has already seen to it.

We shuffle to give each other room, and our change is distributed.

My change is more than 6 pesos worth. My change stays with me.

Jeepney Wondering # 1 - Why aren't you laughing?

My first Jeepney Wondering started, as they usually do, with little warning. I walked towards the jeepney feeling incredibly pleased with myself that I had downloaded some Australian radio and could pretend I was in my small yellow Barrina driving to work. Alas, I had stumbled onto what I call a disco jeepney – think bad 80’s pop played full-ball. Being the cheapskate that I am I refused to lose my 7 peso fair and so settled in for the ride. Most of the trip progressed mindlessly - and then bamn!!  Total Eclipse of the heart comes on and up snaps the head of the full grown adult male next to me– turns out he has quite a good falsetto and doesn’t mind showing it off.

I learnt multiple things this day:

1.       It’s totally OK to sing along very loudly – especially to a power ballad

2.       It’s not funny

3.       You can muffle your laughter by pushing your shoulder into your own face – and still hang on

4.       It’s not funny. Even when he does the key change!

5.       Snorting into your shoulder means people move away.

As I sat there making almost equally ridiculous, but much less musical noises, the power of the jeepney came upon me and I started to think – why aren’t you laughing?  

Being uncoordinated, I know that the Filipinos appreciate humorous situations (slipping in the gutter, tripping up the gutter, stubbing your toe on the gutter), so it was not their sense of humour that was off, but mine. In Australia you might get an occasional person humming on the bus, and maybe on a full moon someone might bust out the chorus – but the WHOLE song – in a FALSETTO???? I don’t think so.  And if it did happen in Australia, you could pretty much guarantee that the bus driver would assume drugs, the lawyer type would spill his decafe frappachino and mothers would divert their children’s eyes. Because it is WEIRD.

Yes, it’s a daggy song, but really it is the potential social humiliation that stops us in Australia. I mean come on – who hasn’t had that moment where you nearly bust out the chorus of blame it on the boogie or I will survive?

As I looked around me (between fits of laughter) and realised no one else was concerned, or had even really noticed, I wondered:  why, in a country that prides it’s self on being laid back and easy going, do we not allow ourselves to be laidback? Are we really that uptight that a guy enjoying a song, and displaying a good voice constitutes culture shock?

Or is it just that I am so acutely aware of my tone deafness that I assume all public singing must lead to humiliation.

I kinda hope it is the latter. But I have a feeling that there is more to it than that.

Jeepney Wonderings - Introduction

Jeepneys contain a lot of Filipino people, a lot of the time. Therefore with questionable logic one could assume that the jeepney is Filipino culture held captive within an aluminium frame  (cushioned of course by plastic covered industrial embroidery) .

Continuing with the doubtful logic - I spend a lot of time in jeepneys, and have started to think that these oversized and rather confused vehicles (are they a bus, a ute or an army personnel carrier?) have the power to provoke interesting thoughts, concerning questions, and just general insights into human behaviour (although this may also be attributable to large amounts of exhaust fumes). And so we have jeepney wonderings, where I will attempt to record and build upon these thoughts and experiences.

Before I start this series of Jeepney Wonderings, I should of course introduce you to the amazing invention that is the jeepney:

Well, when a mummy van loves a daddy truck.....sometimes they make a baby jeep.

Once the baby jeep has been painted, embroidered, fitted with a loud horn and covered in religious paraphernalia it then undergoes  jeepney circumcision and has its muffler removed to ensure maximum noise pollution. Now it is officially a grown up jeepney and is allowed to parade around town touting its beauty and looking for passengers.

Generally speaking (surprise surprise) Manilla jeepneys are done up to the nines like they are off to the ball:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Mrq_jeepney.jpg

While the jeepneys here in Bacolod are a more sedate affair – adorned with pictures of the important people in Filippino history, like spiderman, beyonce, maddonna and winnie the pooh (photos to come).

A talisay jeep hanging at the parking lot

On the move - Broom Broom!!

I admit that at first I was nervous about the jeepneys  a feeling which manifested into intense fear after a bad experience in Antipolo City. But I have come to appreciate the special insights that you can only have when in physical contact with numerous complete strangers.

 Hopefully my experiences of muffling my laughter with my own shoulder, staring in amazement and muttering in frustration can give you an equally bizarre insight into my new home.