YOUNG VOICE
Taxi Ride
Life is like a taxi ride.
How?
Read and find out.
Taxi Ride 1: I was in a rush. It was a Monday and I was in my uniform. I have to go to the bank early and so I took a taxi. Leading the array of empty taxis was a smiling middle-aged man leaning by the baggage compartment. “Ma’am, taxi?.” I nodded. He opened up the back seat door and made sure I was comfortable before gently closing it. The white cab was probably about a decade old; the paint was coming off and the cushions in the interior were shabby. But the driver’s smile was indelible. “Sa diin ta, Day? (where are we off to?).” “Sa Jaro lang Sir, lapit sa Don Benito (Jaro Sir, near Don Benito).” And with that, the engine started and so did our little conversation. He glanced at my reflection on his rearview mirror and asked if I was a Nursing student. I smiled in reply. He continued. “Sa West ka gaskwela? Ano year mo na? (Are your going to school at West? What year are you in?)” At that moment, I knew he wanted to talk. I told him that I was in my third year and asked him how come he was able to match the uniform with our university. Most people mistake me for a medicine student. “Ah, kay ang bata ko abi dira man nag-graduate. Nursing man (my daughter graduated her Nursing course in there as well).” And for less than ten minutes, I had the chance to glimpse at that taxi driver’s life story.
The driver’s daughter was now working in Australia as a registered nurse on weekdays and working part time as a clinical instructor at the University of Melbourne during weekends. There was a University of Melbourne sticker glued to his dashboard. He must be a proud father. He made me guess how much his daughter earns per month in pesos. I swallowed a great deal of saliva when I knew it was a six-digit amount. I then asked him how come he still drives his taxi even though they’re now living the good life. He glanced from his rearview mirror, cleared his throat and said. “Amo ni ang nagpaskwela sa nurse ko. Indi ko mabayaan (this funded my daughter’s education) and I enjoy driving.” His smile must be contagious that it had not left my face until my stop. He carefully placed his taxi along the shoulder of the road. I checked at the meter; 42.50. All I have was three 20 bills. “Sige lang day, 40.00 lang ah. Kung mag professional ka na sa ulihi amo na pagpaaman mo sa akon” (It’s okay, just 40.00. If you’ll be a professional someday, that’s the time you spare me some change). My smile widened. I was able to save 2.50 and got to hear an amazing story from a kind driver.
Taxi Ride 2: After a round of Karaoke, my classmates and I took a taxi. The white cab looked new with shiny exterior paintjobs and a tidy cushion interior. The taxi driver started the engine before we could even get our butts comfortable. He looked stressed and haggard. He was about in his mid-50’s. “Diin kamo?” He sounded more annoyed than he looked. “Sa West lang Nong.” I kept on looking at his rearview mirror hoping he will glance for a while. I wanted to bear a smile to his obviously boring and dull day. But he didn’t. He was busy beeping his horn to every pedestrian he passes by. The taxi was silent apart from the driver’s intermittent coughs. I decided to open up a topic on politics. Not meaning to be tactless, I blurted out. “I think I won’t be voting the usual candidates. Kung sila man giyapon daw wala lang mabag-o eh (If they’ll still be elected, it’s as if nothing changed). I’ll be voting for the new and worthy ones.” My two classmates agreed and one of them aired out her opinion of foregoing Enrile from her list. “Indi ko ya sa iya part siya bi ka Rolex Twelve. (I don’t like him since he’s part of the Rolex 12)”
The taxi driver reacted. He probably was an Enrile Loyalista. “Indi guid kamo grateful sa iya nga guin palawig niya mga text ninyo? Kung wala Martial Law do you think amo ta ni subong? Communist ang Philippines kung wala to.” (Aren’t you grateful because he made text-messaging cheaper? If Martial Law did not happen what will be of us. Philippines will be a communist nation without it). Before we could even react, the taxi driver became so engrossed with his mini-speech. He talked about the Martial Law in Iloilo. Then, it was the start of a very weird series of events. The taxi driver mentioned a surname, common to three pairs of our ears and so by natural teenage instinct we smiled and tapped each other’s backs. The moody taxi driver saw us and made an Oscar worthy scene. “Sige. I’ll stop talking na lang. Kay siguro driver lang ko abi niyo mango na guid ko. Mayo kamo ya kay mga maalam. Wala kamo kabalo tatlo sa mga manghod ko Ph.D sa inyo eskwelahan, magna cumlaude pa ang isa. Galing kay abi ninyo driver lang ko guro, abi ninyo mango guid ako.” (You think I’m stupid because I’m just a taxi driver right? Don’t you know I have three Ph.D siblings in your school?) Okay. Hang-on, when did we ever say he was stupid? I told the driver. “Sir, we did not mean nga i-disrespect ka. May kilala lang kami nga pareho sa surname nga guin mention mo.” After my attempt to explain ourselves. He went on again with now an Emmy-worthy speech. When we reached our stop, we peeked at the meter. 47.50 pesos. We gave the exact amount. Anyways, he doesn’t need the extra 2.50 tip, he has outstanding siblings right?
Those were my two taxi rides. I spent 87.50 all in all. But these less than a hundred peso experience proved to me that life is really what you make it. Life is a matter of perspective. You enjoy life when you make it enjoyable. You’ll be bored with life when you remain stagnant and live by a dull routine. The first taxi driver was a man who knows what he needs: a better future for his family and his daughter’s success. Now, that he has it, he asks no more but to continue what he loves and that is driving his decade-old taxi. The second driver was a bitter man who is confused of what he really wants to achieve. Despite the success of his siblings, he remains glued to self-pity. He used his siblings’ statuses to lift up his own. His paranoia of people belittling him (which actually we did not do) let leak in his unexpressed desire (more so desperation) to be like his siblings.
The world is always on our side. We are relative to its every tilt and turn. We are one of its elements. I do not believe in the cliché, Me against the World. I used to had that ideology, especially when failure, humiliation and downright embarrassment had engulf me whole. But, Bon Jovi said It’s your life and you did it your way. You’ve got nobody else to blame but yourself. Sure, some mean bullies will make your life harder. Some prejudiced superiors will make you feel less than a shit-eating worm. Some 3rd year students will let your feel you’re a good-for-nothing driver (which we didn’t do). These shouldn’t be the valid reasons for self-pity. You’re still alive right? Stand up! Move! Prove them wrong. Prove to them despite you driving a decade-old taxi, at the end of the day you still go home to a happy family, contented life and on the plus side some share from your daughter’s six-digit monthly salary.
These were my two taxi rides.
With these, I felt I toured around the world and saw the opposite ends.
La Vita Dolce and La Vita Amara (The Sweet and Bitter Life)
Life is like a taxi ride.
You have the choice where to go.
You have the choice on what would become of you.
(Comments and reactions to reylangarcia@gmail.com)
