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....those suicidal bugs that smash themselves on windshields of moving cars.
Actually, today I got my Philippine Driver's License!! Today, I can now officially take part in the nerve-wracking, physically-exhausting, mind-boggling chaos that is also known as manila traffic. Today I felt that I truly belong to my country, the Philippines. For me, getting my driver's license is not unlike getting to heaven after a laborious life on earth. :D
At first, things did not augur well...it was raining as we left the house early morning - the first time it did since we arrived last month. Then, Paul, our contact person, the one who would guide us through the tedious process of converting my California license into a local one, was more than 30 minutes late for our appointment. As we arrived at the LTO (Land Transportation Office - the Philippine version of the DMV) the rain has let up temporarily and the heat and humidity triggered an outpouring of sweat that bordered on the incredible. We were ushered to a tiny shack where a urine sample was taken from me and Cynthia (she would be renewing her license which expired 5 years ago) and then another shack next door for the "physical' exam which involved our blood pressure being taken and stepping on a weighing scale. Next was an eye test which I failed -because I forgot to bring my eyeglasses with me - but the examiner said not to worry about it. After the tests, Paul informed us that Cynthia needed to take a written exam again before another license can be issued her. Noticing the very long queue of would be exam takers, Cynthia decided to forgo renewing her license, claiming she would just be too stressed to drive again anyway. For me, it was sort of downhill from here..submitting my application with copies of my passport and California License, waiting to be called, getting my picture and signature taken, waiting to be called, paying for license, waiting to be called, getting my picture and signature taken (again!!), waiting to be called, and finally getting my very own, bona fide, Philippine Driver's License.
Even before I came here, I have mentally prepared myself for Philippine weather. I know it's going to be hot and humid. Even more so in summer..and summer begins in March in this country. But no amount of mental readiness could prepare me for the overwhelming blast of the heat on my physical being. I mean the moment I stepped out of a cold shower, I sweat. Profusely. Now imagine being out on the streets, under a full summer sun and amidst the smoke from the tailpipes of a thousand public vehicles..almost all of which run on diesel engines. Sweat would literally pour out of your skin.
Unfortunately, Cynthia and I occasionally had to walk on the streets and even ride on these public vehicles. One such instance was Wednesday, April 7th. I just learned the sad news that one of my classmates in high school, Juanito Baltazar, passed away that morning. I spoke with a couple other classmates and we agreed to pay our respects to our dearly departed friend later that evening. His body was in a chapel in Sampaloc, a place where it would be better to go using public transportation rather than bringing our vehicle.
My wife and I left the house at around 4:30 pm. The moment we stepped out of the house the afternoon sun started scorching our newly showered bodies. To get to Sampaloc from our place in Sta. Mesa, we had to go the long route by taking a bus (which was thankfully air-conditioned) and then taking a jeepney to Dimasalang. Jeepneys are not air conditioned and since it was rush hour, we had to share our seats with ten other, equally sweaty, persons.
It's been ages since either one of us traveled this way and we were relying only on the google map directions that we consulted early that day. Cynthia was getting antsy as we entered Dimasalang fearing we might miss our stop. I asked the person next to me if he knew where Algecira Street was (that was our reference point based on the map) but he apologetically smiled and confessed that he's not familiar with that street. One of the lady passengers overheard our conversation and asked where our destination was. When we explained that we need to go to Quinto Street she suggested we get off at Simoun. We remembered Simoun as one of the cross streets close to where we were headed. Advising the driver accordingly, he let us off at Simoun and we thanked our "angel" (this is how we always refer to strangers who go out of their way to help us) profusely for directing us to the right way.
Dusk found us walking towards the Resurrection Chapel, with our clothes sticking to our skins. Eventually we arrived at the chapel where we were greeted by Minette, the deceased's daughter. Soon Lilian and Cora, my two other classmates came huffing in, themselves a bit sweaty also. We offered our condolences and prayed for Juanito's family. We all left at 8 pm, this time taking an even longer walk towards Espana. Thankfully there was a gentle night breeze that made our perambulations a bit pleasant.
Home at 9 pm. We took another shower (I believe it was the third for the day) and got ready for bed. Thank heavens for air-conditoning!
