Between rust and rush hour

I am in my late 20s, an age when most people are drawn to modern vehicles: machines that are defined by safety, efficiency, and convenience. Yet, I have always been fascinated by something older, something with history. My interest in vintage cars began when my mother gave me a die-cast model of a 1960s Jaguar E-Type. Since then, I have been captivated by the elegance of the past.

Earlier this year, I finally acquired my first car, a 1984 Mercedes-Benz W126. I bought it for less than the price of the phone I now carry in my pocket. It felt like a dream within reach. But as the old saying goes, caveat emptor, or in English: “Buyer beware.” What initially seemed like a functioning vehicle quickly revealed itself to be little more than a charming wreck.

With my car sidelined, I found myself returning to a familiar reality: public transportation. I live in Bulacan, but my routines often take me to Metro Manila. Sometimes for work, other times in search of it.

On the day I write this, I am seated in a coffee shop, waiting for a preemployment exam. I left home at 3 in the morning. I had an agreement with a tricycle driver to pay P150 and be dropped off at the bus stop. The steep fare can be explained by the fact that there were no other available tricycle drivers at the time and that the concerned driver would not have a fare on the way back. I boarded a bus by 3:30 a.m., and arrived in Monumento just after 4. After a quick breakfast, I took the Light Rail Transit (LRT). I arrived at my destination more than three hours early; it is a habit I have developed out of necessity. Traffic along the North Luzon Expressway is unpredictable, and accidents are never out of the question. To be late is a risk that I cannot afford.

There are times when the commute would be easy, when one travels at a time when commuters aren’t dismissed yet from work, when it is not yet the dismissal time of students. On the contrary, it can be a thorn in my side. There is no in-between.

Public transportation, I have realized, is a paradox. It is exhausting, yet occasionally calming. It can be chaotic, especially during rush hour in places like Makati, where commuters press against each other in crowded Metro Rail Transit stations. Elbows collide, patience wears thin, and basic etiquette like allowing passengers to exit before entering is often forgotten. Yet, within this disorder, there is a strange sense of familiarity. It is a chaos we have learned to live with.

It used to be cheap, but with recent geopolitical developments, the rising gas prices have affected fares in public transportation. Tricycle fares used to be P70 for a 4-kilometer ride in Malolos; it has bloated to P90 for the same distance. A bus ticket from Malolos, Bulacan, to Metro Manila used to be P60-plus with my PWD discount. Now, it is more than P90. It is more expensive within the metropolitan areas.

I remember a few years ago, I was riding a tricycle from the United Nations station of LRT to my school, Adamson University. I was flabbergasted when I was charged P70 for a distance of less than a kilometer. While public transportation might be relatively cheaper as compared to driving, it can be expensive in the long run. It is expected to be more expensive in the near future with the volatile environment of the global world order.

In spite of that, I have a former professor who owned a car but rarely used it. We would often see him at the train station. He once shared that commuting relaxed him more than driving ever could. For some, public transportation offers a reprieve.

Still, for many Filipinos, commuting is not a choice but a necessity. More people would willingly embrace public transportation if it were more reliable, accessible, and humane. As more middle-class families experience efficient transit systems abroad, expectations at home are slowly changing.

We do not necessarily hate the act of commuting. In fact, some of us even find moments of peace in it. What we struggle with is the system itself. A system that is neglected, strained, and long overdue for reform. Much like the vintage car I now own, our public transportation system carries potential and history, but it has been left to deteriorate.

Between rust and rush hour, I find myself navigating both, holding on to nostalgia while confronting the realities of the present.

—————-

Romar Tiongson Malabrigo, 28, is a person with disability who is interested in vintage vehicles and public transportation.