The Road Not (Often) Taken
by Job B. de Leon on August 23, 2010
There are several ways by which Ateneans deal with going to school everyday. The first, and arguably the most enviable way, is to troop to class from your residence in the University Dormitory or from any space for rent along Katipunan. Second, those who have the luxury of a car are chauffeured or can drive themselves to school, traveling in air-conditioned comfort. The third is joining an organized carpool to ferry your collective through the streets of the Metro.
The fourth and most overlooked option is to take public transportation— and no, hailing a cab in the city or taking a tricycle from your condominium doesn’t count.
I’m a commuter. This means I regularly take multiple vehicular modes with plenty of stops along congested thoroughfares, burning my airways with noxious fumes. I’ve sacrificed brand-new footwear while charging into the rain, knowing that I must keep moving towards home and the promise of a warm meal.
Tales of similar experiences dissuade most university students from hitting the streets. Given a choice, people would rather not risk sweat stains or getting soaked by the rain. The greatest fear is always that for personal security, regularly corroborated and affirmed by incidents of theft on nearby sidewalks and establishments.
People sometimes rationalize that if the Ateneo environment is supposed to be a bubble sheltering us from the “real world,” then the real world is something we’d like to avoid. In my case, I told myself that my lack of a dispensable vehicle shouldn’t stop me from going where I wanted to go.
I’m not going to tell you that the dangers don’t exist. I’ve found myself in places I didn’t mean to end up in. Just recently, I lost my cellphone in a public restroom. I’ve dealt with harassment from strangers on a train and the ravings of inebriated passengers in jeeps.
The safe trips aren’t always pleasant either. Sometimes I find myself standing in a bus mired in traffic along Roxas Boulevard or the SLEX. Riding a bus in the wee hours of the morning is a different animal altogether— it screams and shudders violently down EDSA, and you’re praying that every bit of metal holds, lest the speed tear the bus apart.
As early as high school, I was taking tricycles and jeepneys around Alabang, Las Piñas, and Parañaque. This skill proved more valuable to me in college— I’m not tied down to a particular sundo scheme, so it enables me to stay out late for org activities and to hang out with friends. It was okay too that none of my friends lived near me, since I can get dropped off anywhere and make my way home.
Personally, commuting brings about a very real sense of independence. It doesn’t stem from a tourist-y sense of moving through a seemingly foreign environment. Though I’m still subject to the conditions of the road and the temperaments of people around me, I’m traveling on my time, at my own pace, and with my own effort.
I took the road less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
