Commuting

Commuted today.  Somehow, I missed my 630 alarm and woke up at 7.  Coding was suspended in Metro Manila except for Pasay and, as expected, Makati.  And guess where I work? Makati.  I was contemplating whether I should risk getting caught because police officers in Makati don't really wake up until 7 anyway, and their brains don't start working until 730.  They're sort of like crocodiles ("buwaya"), they need to warm up a bit first before they can begin stalking prey. 

Anyway, I decided to commute.  How hard could it be?  I've been commuting for most of my life.  I asked to be dropped off at the MRT station in Shaw (fine, I cheated a little).  The lines were short enough but the trains were really packed.  I skipped one train and got on the next, which really wasn't any better.  I just didn't have a choice.  It was already 815 then, and I thought it would take at least another hour for the trains to decongest.  By that time, I was already sweating so profusely that my shirt stuck to my skin, and the supposedly airconditioned train was so full the heat of all the bodies probably negated what little cooling was generated.  Thankfully, some guy had opened one of the windows and the wind hit me directly on the nape.

There were brief moments when I could breathe normally.  That was between the time when people got off and got on the train.  The car would loosen a bit and then there'd be pushing and showing, and everything would be back to the way it was.  Until Buendia anyway, where half the passengers got off.  The other half, myself included, disembarked at Ayala.  I knew there was some sort of Ayala Loop jeep or FX somewhere around that are but I immediately gravitated to the first taxi stand that I saw.  That's not exactly commuting by Pinoy standards but I was sweaty and late.  Excuses.  Right.

I can't believe it's only been two years since I last commuted - the traditional way.  And it was just four years ago when I endured two hours travelling to school by jeep, train, bus, fx and tryke.  It was such a normal thing for me to do.  Even taking a cab was my very final emergency option.  Now I'm a sissy.  Sure, I've taken a jeep or tryke every now and then but those were just for a few blocks.  I've gotten so used to driving that I can't even tolerate the MRT.  That was never a problem before.  And I had such high esteem for those who commuted, because they knew how to live on the streets.  It takes a certain kind of character to be able to live in the streets of Metro Manila, and now I've lost that character.