I knew I'd love Jeepneys from what my children told me about them. In fact, the first thing Carmen said when he heard I was assigned to the Philippines was that I'd be learning Tagalog and I'd get to experience Jeepneys. I was psyched for this.
They look like amusement rides that escaped the carnival grounds. "I am so lucky!", I thought. "Wait til my friends hear about this!"
I step lively right up to the door and, crouching to fit through the door, climb in. It's like stepping into a bus out of Alice In Wonderland when she has grown too big! Here I am sitting on the shiny, red, nagahide-covered bench. I'm still a little bent over because my head bumps the ceiling. So I must look a little like Alice, her over-sized body squeezed into her house. I've always wanted to say to Alice, "Just how do you think you are going to get out of there, young lady?"
I glance around, taking stock of the situation: Benches running the entire length on both sides. Although there are only three of us on board, I already feel the need to bolt, as though the door is too far and too small and it's getting smaller even as I watch it. And while I'm not real smart, I figure sooner or later other people will come tromping into my space, some of them BIG Americans, boldly prepared to fill those benches.
There already is too little space for me! Should I sit huddled by the door, ready to jump out? No, darn it, that's where the other two are sitting, pretty smugly it seems to me. Well, maybe I can crab-walk my way to the front and huddle against the driver. I have a vision of my panicking and flipping over him, probably kicking him in the face in my frantic effort to get out, and then realizing there was no emergency after all. That would be embarrassing! But embarrassing, also, is having to ask everyone in a van to disembark, and fast! so I can get out of the back. I did that once in the first block of a trip from Roswell to Albuquerque. We had to get everyone repositioned and I spent the rest of the 3 hours perched on an upended bucket between the front seats.
Then there was the time I got accidentally closed into the tiny mini-elevator that crawls for t...w...o......whole......minutes....up the Saint Louis Arch. Mercifully, I was with my children and I survived that by praying the rosary aloud, which no doubt provided my children with their own Religious Experience, God help them. Sorry, children! And I just knew the park ranger was trying to torment me by not allowing me to descend by the steps. She sentenced me to t...w...o....more...minutes descent.
My family was wonderful about it, but OK, now I'm in the Philippines, surrounded by strangers in a strange land. We're talking robust and sporty Peace Corps Volunteers who are looking for a good time in town. I'm a little unsure of their willingness to put their arms around me and burst into a rousing decade of the rosary.
I can see some of those big bodies approaching... right toward my Jeepney! Before I get trapped I scurry (if that's what you call shuffling in a half-crouched position with a backpack on) out the door. I take a deep breath. Free!
Once outside, I found out a passenger or two (or three or four) can ride in the front with the driver. That's where I went. I felt kind of sheepish, though, and disappointed in myself. I was going to be here for 2 whole years. Was I relegated to manipulating my way into the front every time? I knew that wasn't even possible. I thought of PCVs in some countries, faced with drinking mare's urine to culturally assimilate and I determined, or rather, hoped, that I could get over this. I just didn't know how.
By the way, Jeepney drivers consider their "Jeep" full when there are 20 passengers in the back! 20! And I'm told the motto is, "There's always room for one more!" I guess my motto would be, "You make me nervous, ride on the top, buster!"
But back to this inspiring tale- It took me 2 months and some kind understanding from fellow volunteers, but I've overcome the phobia. I've said my prayers to myself as I breathed slowly and deeply and guess what! I have now ridden in crowded Jeepneys more times than you could count. Speaking of counting, I have counted the passengers and guess how many! 28 is my record and that is with me smack in the middle! Talk about a triumph!
OK, so my next blog will be a pictorial tribute to my psychedelic-looking rides.
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