Just jeeps.

As one who’s never had her own car, public transportation’s been my way of life.

Buses, trains, taxis, tricycles, pedicabs… If it’s a way to get around a place, I’ve probably ridden it at least once. Jeeps, as much as I have developed distaste for riding them after the sun’s gone down, are especially unavoidable.

I had quite the traumatic experience almost a year ago and still, everytime another passenger sticks his hand into his pocket, a sharp intake of breath follows and in that fleeting moment, I prepare for the worst… Usually only to realize he’s reaching for coins.

So you can imagine my horror when I chanced upon a jeep that had, blasting through its speakers, a song with a chorus that went

‘Wag ka nang matakot

May nagbabantay sa dilim

May nag-aabang sa sulok

May hawak na patalim

(Roughly translated to: Don’t be afraid. Someone’s standing guard in the dark, waiting in a corner, with knife in hand.)

Which, for one thing, makes absolutely no sense. Why would you not be afraid if someone’s waiting for you in a dark corner with a knife ready? Unless maybe that knife was to slice a birthday cake he baked for you. I DON’T KNOW.

All I know is I have once again averted the dangers of nightly public transportation.

I succeeded in concealing the little bubbles of paranoia swimming in my brain ’til I got home. But now those bubbles are of confusion, trying to make sense of 4 lines in a strange, supposedly comforting song.

Once upon a time, in a far away land, it was Monday.

I was told I got the job.

I wasn’t going to start until January but they told me to come in early this Monday anyway. So I did.

I got there, I was hungry. I ran into an old high school teacher who now worked there as a security guard at the cafeteria. I was hungry so I ordered some food.

I had friends now. My brother had traveled with me to the office, all the way to Antipolo because he had nothing better to do. I, my newfound friends and my brother were chatting about nothing.

Later, we went up a few floors. It was a bit confusing because there were several elevators of different sizes, none of which were ever in the same place twice. I’m sure we were going somewhere but the elevator maze threw us off.

Some floors had docks – where ships & passengers come in from who-knows-where. Some had a warehouse partially converted to a shop for used clothes.

Come night time, new job completely forgotten or deleted completely from the scenario as my mind saw fit, we were at the garage area of the office that looked a lot like the standard garage houses around here would have. A little gate, a cheap tarp roof strung over the monobloc chairs and table scattered around, occupied by people.

The makeshift roof was blocking my vision of the night sky so I found myself wandering onto the quiet street. Looking up, I saw 5 strange lights followed by 1… 2… 3 more. I thought, “Holy shit. Did I just see UFOs?!” I was hell-bent on getting back inside, to safety, until I noticed something else flying across the sky.

I thought I’d imagined seeing a falling star. I looked up and I saw one that stayed around for what seemed like forever. And 3 others surrounding it. I watched and the meteors just kept coming.

I went back to the gate. My voice was hoarse but I managed just enough volume to yell “METEOR SHOWER!!!”

People ran outside to ooh and aah at the beauty. Most of us walked to the very edge of the street – where the fields and concrete roads merged.

Soon enough, the meteor shower suddenly turned into a shower of debris. There were dust and pebbles everywhere. In a panic, we all ran inside. So did I, screaming for my brother the whole time, making sure he made it back safe. I shouted my brother’s name a lot. I was terrified I had lost him. (I didn’t.)

Incident of the debris-storm already forgotten, I’m now back in the office. I see the clear glass wall through which we can see the docks. A huge passenger ship just parked. The fog barely allowed visibility. The people that arrived from the ship and fog had their jackets on, their hoods up and were laughing about the cold, their breath mixing right in with the fog.

I walked to the clothes store. Amidst the South Park hats, plaid raincoats and Christmas sweaters, I tried to find one that could keep me warm.

I didn’t know where I was going, but I knew I was boarding that ship.

And then I woke up.

Well, hey, Merry Christmas to you too, assholes.

Tonight, I was supposed to take my usual route — bus, jeep, short walk to the house.

I never got around to walking to the house because circumstances made me and everyone else get off the jeep prematurely.

I flagged one down. Nothing new, nothing remarkable.

A few minutes later a bunch of guys in hoodies — 3 or 4 of them — boarded the jeep. I found it strange how, as I was sitting right behind the driver’s seat like I always do, he squeezed his way in beside me to take my spot. (In hindsight, I’m kicking myself for not leaving then.) Looks were exchanged between the hoodied boys. (More kicks to myself there.) And a moment later — I’m not even sure if it was a moment or minutes but either way — the guy beside me had his arm around the jeepney driver’s neck. I would have guessed that he was shouting, but it was overshadowed by everyone else’s frantic tugging at people’s bags and things, as well as screaming from the passengers. I was shouting too.

I had my bag strap hanging diagonally across my torso. The next thing I know, I was fighting for it, not wanting to let go, with just the straps around my fingers.

The guy pulling it was outside while I was still seated. How he got there, I don’t know. Did he jump out the window? I don’t know.

I was thisclose to getting my back bag or deluded myself into thinking that was possible, but my hands weren’t strong enough and they were getting angry and I  was getting scared.

There were threats thrown around. “Babarilin ko kayo! Wag kayo magulo!” Stereotypically uncreative hold-up shit like that. I didn’t see a gun, but I knew I didn’t want to call his bluff at the risk of my own life.

After some time, I let go. I was the only other person left in the jeep. Everyone else had run off after them or just run off to find a friend (I guess). I… got off the jeep and stood stunned. Checked my pockets. I still had my phone. And — thank goodness — most of the money I just withdrew from my bank account.

I lost my bag. And in it, my ATMs, my company ID, keys, my iPod. My iPod is the worst.

It was a crappy night.

And the jeep stopped right in front of a beerhouse.

Not wanting to be left standing there, a girl all alone, I walked to get to somewhere with a security guard. I bummed a cigarette from a stranger, then called the only person I could think of — a very recent ex-boyfriend.

It was a crappy night. And I am apologetic for bothering the one person I knew I shouldn’t bother.

So now I’m at the shop where he works, waiting for morning for the maid to wake up so I can get into the house without bothering anymore people.

I am glad I’m okay. I just hate that this had to happen to me.

There is no point to this blog entry. Kind of like how it has no structure either.

I’m typing this as I think. And I’m going to hit publish without proofreading. I’m too pissed to care.

Just… I guess… Be careful. You know what they say about Christmas season and people like those hoodied assholes desperate for money.