Denizens of the Jeep

In the old days the first thing one did when boarding a jeepney was to pay the driver. Today, as soon as one’s behind touches the seat, we start texting. For most people, the entire trip consists of that single activity. This is a shame because there are some interesting sights in your fellow passengers.

Interesting and sometimes damned irritating.

I have attempted to categorize them and when possible, share what steps I take. I stress this is what I would do. I do not necessarily recommend it for everyone. You will need a special brand of douchebaggery to follow through with some of these steps.

The Walking Deadma: This is the one who ignores you when you ask him/her to pass your fare to the driver. If the person is elderly, they probably figure they’re exempted. If it is a woman, it may be their long hair blocks their peripheral vision. But most of the time the person is just lost in his/her little world.

If the WD is texting, I shove my hand holding the fare in front of the cellphone screen.

If the person has simply zoned out or feels it beneath him/her to pass your fare, I ‘accidentally’ nudge them.

(When I'm in a nasty mood I call out: Yo! Walking Dead!)

The Tukô: For one of my size, entering or leaving a jeepney is like crawling through a sewer pipe. I have to bend over almost double, and to keep my balance, I have to slide my hand on the handrail as I move along. But even if the vehicle is at a full stop, the Tukô passenger will continue to hang on to the rail with a death grip, blocking your progress, even when your hand is already squeezing their fingers. Short of bellowing ‘Let go, goddamit’ in their ear hole, you can only hope the sound of their fingers cracking will penetrate the fog around their brains.

 The Space Hog: The Hog is the one who continues to sits at a 45-degree angle, taking up two spaces, even when the jeepney is starting to fill up. Personally, I find it more uncomfortable to twist around and plant my elbow on the window frame just to be able to stare out the window. (The SH, by virtue of his/her position, sometimes turns into a Walking Deadma, too.) This is where my size – or more accurately -  mass, comes in handy. When a passenger boards, and the Space Hog remains immobile, I make space for the new passenger by hurtling myself sideways at the Hog, compressing them into the space entitled them. (This also works with Manspreaders.)

Leadbottom: Maybe it's just me, but I prefer to sit near the exit. That way I can disembark with less difficulty. But if the jeep is full, I don't always have that luxury. However, as more passengers alight, more and more space is available. Unfortunately, sometimes the person beside me nearer to the exit won't skooch over to the vacancies left. If I nudge them they creep iceberg-like maybe a few inches. There's not much that can be done about this other than to stand (relatively speaking) and creep over to the seat near the exit. If you're in a particularly nasty mood you can mutter an audible bigat puwet on the way there.

The Sadako: They are the women (and men) with long flowing tresses that blow into my face as the jeep rolls. While it is tempting to whip out a pair of scissors (or a lighter), the most one can do is make annoyed, spitting noises until they get it. And if they don't, whenever a hair touches my face I slap the point of contact, usually my cheek. This has the effect of trapping one or more hairs, whereupon you twist your head in the opposite direction sharply to deliver that firm tug on their hair. That will certainly get their attention. Rub your face a few times to impress upon them that you are the aggrieved party. That is a sure way to get them to tuck their hair in, if not out of courtesy, then out of a fear that they will be plucked bald.

The Buffalo: An able-bodied passenger who shoves past the elderly and the pregnant so he can board first. If I am one of those boarding I block the mofo and motion the disadvantaged forward. (The Buffalo is not normally agressive and will simply put on the usual 'I didn't notice' nonchalance.) If I am on board and seated at the rear I block him also from my seat.

Ninja Turtles: They have humongous backpacks which they don't remove on boarding. Either the thing smashes into you or it takes up additional space as they assume the Space Hog position. (see above). I just shoulder the blasted thing like I do with the Space Hog.

The Human Barricade: They try to board the jeepney even though you are clearly getting off. Did you know that if you angle your head just right, a headbutt won't hurt so much? (Not your head, anyway.)

The Ghost Rider: No roster of irritating jeepney habitues would be complete without mention of the Ghost Rider, the jeepney driver who seems to have a head made entirely of bone. Aside from being invariably as deaf as a fencepost from his roaring diesel engine so he doesn't hear passengers asking him  to pull over, he either cruises easily along like a carnival float trawling for passengers (and ignoring what's in front of him), races along bumpy roads as though his passengers were a cargo of gravel, or he forgets that he has a rear-view mirror, causing him to make the jeepney jerk forward when a passenger is getting off or when one is about to board. Not much you can do here but flip him the bird when you're at a safe distance.

After reading this, I note with frustration that most of these 'me first' types share the same characteristic. In fact, it is the same characteristic shared by many people I have encountered on and off the road. How did we Filipinos, once the paragon of charity and solicitude, suddenly transform into inconsiderate, self-absorbed boors? Does this stem from our people’s state of resigned futility, of poverty, of hunger that deadens the mind? I leave that to the sociologists and psychologists. Whatever it is, it’s gotten worse with cellphones and portable music players.

This brings to mind an old joke: What do you call a person who gets run over by a pison (steamroller)?

Tanga.   

(Thanks to Jackjack C. for her jeepney war stories that made me realize it's worse than I thought.)