While I was browsing through my old files, I came across this article I wrote for an activity in Lit 3 a year and a month ago. Somehow, it reminds me of Tacloban, Miss Brill (the character in the short story thats to be blamed for this post xD), our cool and witty Lit 3 Instructor (Hi Maam Aivee! xD) and my changed perception on literature that I thought Id share it here. Hahaha. Read on! :D ----- Okay, so here I am now in a red shiny multicab which looks like it’s a neophyte on the road. There is nothing special with this ride aside from the “Starship” tune playing in the background which changes to a commonly known song by Wonder Girls as I end this sentence. Also, our chubby driver seems to be in such a haste making me cling like a paranoid monkey to the silver tube atop me as I temporarily say goodbye to most intellectually gifted young Filipinos’ dream university. “EVRMC la manoooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!” screams a teenage girl wearing the uniform of a high school at downtown Tacloban. But as expected, it was already too late as the cab’s tires screech to a halt halfway through the plaza where [the statue of] a tall white lady is beautifully erected. That leaves me with 6 other passengers left – a young boy in gray shirt sitting on the lap of what seems like his 34-year-old mother seated beside the chubby driver, two ladies and a businessman (based on his suit) across my seat and an elementary kid four seats to my left. At the back of the driver is a lady in her late twenties (or early thirties) wearing blue blouse, bluish maong pants, and… “Lugar la, ‘nong!” so the businessman finally bids us farewell. …blue step-in sandals with matching white pearls on her neck and both (yes, both) wrists. She keeps looking outside avoiding eye contact with me – I mean, with fellow passengers. After spending a couple (actually, more than just a couple) of minutes near a fast food chain, a group of four noisy dabarkads enters the scene – three of them XX and the other one XY-XX (?). So the gay-looking (no offense meant) guy together with one of the ladies sit between me and the kid. As the trip commences, them four continues the story they seemed to have cut before entering the cab. It was not something I could relate to (at the moment, at least), something about the ‘intimacy’ of the season, so to speak. The kid also eavesdrops and steals glances at them before he signals “para” to the driver in an intersection by a school for the economically endowed. Not long after, the fashionista lady also whacks the silver tube, says, “Cristina la, ‘nong; lugar la”, and hands his fare over to the cab driver directly. Two other passengers and myself also pass our pasahe as we all (three) step out of the red shiny multicab and into the place where people go either to leave or to arrive, to say hello or to bid farewell. #
Posted on: Mon, 10 Mar 2014 06:30:18 +0000
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