That late-night trip

My frequent late-night trips within the metro through public transport are proving to be quite a challenge for my guardian angel – I bet she’s working doubly hard to keep me out of harm’s way lately, and last night was again another brush with potential danger.

The strong rains kept me from leaving my girlfriend’s house early, and it was already 11:30 pm when the rains let up a bit just enough for my jacket to handle.

Commuters en route to Quezon City from Makati usually become sparse at past 12:00 midnight, especially on Sundays. It takes me three jeepney rides to get from my girlfriend’s house in Makati back home to Diliman. I just got off at Quiapo, right after the bridge and near the church, to get my third and last jeepney transfer when the rains came back hard and strong.

And then it happened.

I saw the first Project 2-3 jeepney coming down fast from the bridge. I raised my hand to flag it down, but it stopped at the end of the bridge, several meters away from me. It stayed there, but no one was alighting.

The rain was fast soaking through my jacket, so I ran towards the jeepney (heck, I don’t want to get sick!).

As I approached the jeep, the man seated at the front alighted and hurried off. As I was about to enter through the back entrance, two men got off in a rush and I have to back off into the pavement to let them through. One was carrying a knapsack while other was busy stashing something into his denim jacket.

There were four passengers left inside the jeep, and everyone was talking to each other in excited voices. The only lady in the group was pale and in the verge of tears, holding her chest as if it was about to explode.

“Akala ko nagbibiro lang siya (I thought he was just joking)...”

“Pare, natangay ba yung cellphone mo (Pare, was your cellphone taken)?...”

“Kawawa naman yung estudyante, tinangay nila pati yung knapsack niya (That poor student, even his knapsack was taken)...”

“Mahirap makipaglaban sa tatlong yun, ang hahaba ng mga panaksak nila, stainless pa (It’s hard to fight those three, they have long icepicks, stainless steel even)...”

“Yung nandito sa harapan, may baril (The one here at the front has a gun)...”

“Buti na lang naibayad ko yung 100 pesos ko. Mama, yung sukli ko po. Yan na lang natira sa akin. Kinuha rin nila relo ko. (Good thing I paid with my 100 pesos. Mister driver, my change please. That’s all I have now. They took my watch, too)...”

WTF! These passengers just got robbed!

Sigh!

Incidents like this one had that taught me to develop a habit when traveling at night: I empty my wallet of any important documents – IDs, ATM cards, photos, driver’s license, SSS, etc. – and transfer them to “my other wallet”, carefully stowed somewhere in my person. I would also take off my old wristwatch. There’s little I can do about my cellphone, but I plan to get hold of that nifty “SIM-saver” gadget soon, so I won’t feel sorry for a lost SIM card (and all the contacts in it).

I would leave just enough cash in my wallet for jeepney fare and for what I called “props” – at least about a hundred bucks, in small denominations (for an illusion of quantity), so any potential robber would (hopefully) not suspect that I have my cash stashed somewhere else. There’s no point getting anyone hurt for small amounts.

But thank goodness I myself have never been a victim of robbery, and I hope it stays that way. *knock on wood*

The rest of the trip from Quiapo to Sikatuna, Diliman was filled with conversations. I just listened and watched the victims talk it out, seemingly trying to ease, share, and release their emotions – fear, anger, and relief (especially for those who managed to hold on to some of their belongings, like the guy who somehow succeeded in concealing his pricey cellphone).

For a while, they were like good friends, and not the faceless commuters you see everyday. Their experiences for the night somehow bonded them, even if it was just for the rest of that lonely, late-night trip.