I was thinking bad thoughts...issssshhhh!!!!I swear...one of these days... I'll kill a taxi driver...grrrrrrrrrrrr!
My shoes are ruined...they are fully caked with mud! OMG!
Our place (Barangay San Vicente) shows evidence of the last storm that past by a week ago. We have rip-raps that collapsed, we have one light post that fell, we have a big land slide that made the roads disgustingly "un-walkable".
Anyway, so there I was...planning the menu for tonight's dinner. I got out from the supermarket and hopped on the next available taxi. I was already mentally cooking the Chicken Mami soup while cruising the roads of Baguio.
By the time that we reached Milton House, "Saan, sa kanan?"
Manong driver was asking me which direction, to which I answered "Opo."
We noticed that there was a lot of traffic on our narrow barangay road, "Sinara na naman ata yung Camp 7," Manong driver observed.
I kept silent...but I felt a sinking feeling. If Camp 7 is closed...that would mean that it would be hard for a two way lane traffic. Our barangay has a lot of rich people that can afford cars but can't build their own garage...thus, the two lane road becomes a narrow one way lane.
Packsyet.
When we reached the intersection, Manong driver cursed, "Ano ba namang putik ito!"
Again, I was silent...then all of a sudden, he stopped, there were 3 vehicles in front of us...waiting for Manong to back up his taxi so that they could pass. But because of the mud, his tires won't allow him to do so.
"Dito ka na ading. Ayaw nilang magpabigay!"
"Eh packsyet naman eh! Ang layo pa kaya nung lalakarin ko! At saka ang putik noh! Gusto mo akong maglakad diyan?! Eh di walang kwentang nagtaxi pa ako! Ayokong magbayad!"
I did not of course say that. My parents did a great job in molding my respect for elders. I kept my resentment to myself, paid Manong driver, quietly picked my two heavy grocery bags...and walked on mud.
My shoes are ruined...they are fully caked with mud! OMG!
Our place (Barangay San Vicente) shows evidence of the last storm that past by a week ago. We have rip-raps that collapsed, we have one light post that fell, we have a big land slide that made the roads disgustingly "un-walkable".
Anyway, so there I was...planning the menu for tonight's dinner. I got out from the supermarket and hopped on the next available taxi. I was already mentally cooking the Chicken Mami soup while cruising the roads of Baguio.
By the time that we reached Milton House, "Saan, sa kanan?"
Manong driver was asking me which direction, to which I answered "Opo."
We noticed that there was a lot of traffic on our narrow barangay road, "Sinara na naman ata yung Camp 7," Manong driver observed.
I kept silent...but I felt a sinking feeling. If Camp 7 is closed...that would mean that it would be hard for a two way lane traffic. Our barangay has a lot of rich people that can afford cars but can't build their own garage...thus, the two lane road becomes a narrow one way lane.
Packsyet.
When we reached the intersection, Manong driver cursed, "Ano ba namang putik ito!"
Again, I was silent...then all of a sudden, he stopped, there were 3 vehicles in front of us...waiting for Manong to back up his taxi so that they could pass. But because of the mud, his tires won't allow him to do so.
"Dito ka na ading. Ayaw nilang magpabigay!"
"Eh packsyet naman eh! Ang layo pa kaya nung lalakarin ko! At saka ang putik noh! Gusto mo akong maglakad diyan?! Eh di walang kwentang nagtaxi pa ako! Ayokong magbayad!"
I did not of course say that. My parents did a great job in molding my respect for elders. I kept my resentment to myself, paid Manong driver, quietly picked my two heavy grocery bags...and walked on mud.
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