m a n i l a g i r l

“Hinahanap-hanap kita Manila

ang ingay mong kay sarap sa tenga:

mga jeepey mong nagliliparan,

mga babae mong naggagandahan…

Take me back in your arms, Manila,

and promise me you’ll never let go.

Promise me you’ll never let go.”

- Hotdog

“Beep! Beep beep beep beep BEEP!!!”. Buses, jeepneys, cars, tricycles, motorcycles and all other manner of transportation out plying the streets of Manila seem to be cursing each other. Incessantly: morning, noon and night and most especially during rush hours. The driver whose jeepney you are riding suddenly pulls up to the side of the road to take on a passenger that has hailed him. BEEP! The speeding pitch black Honda behind you wants to cut in. BEEP! A motorcycle rider simply doesn’t want to budge from the middle of the road so the impatient bus driver behind him honks at him full blast: BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP!!!

Getting around in the Philippines’ capital city is always interesting. There’s always so much to see, touch, smell…and hear! Especially if you choose to take public transportation. Never a quiet moment. Just go up to the highway where you’re supposed to take your jeepney or bus. When the barkers see you (and they never miss calling out any passenger, not them!) they immediately shout at you, “O, ‘Yala, ‘Yala, ‘Yala!”, if you’re bound for the commercial and business hub that is Makati. Inside a jeepney, the morning radio would most likely be tuned in to a station that uses ingenious and sometimes naughty word play to engage and titillate listeners. It’s either that or a news-and-commentary radio show that denounces erring politicians, actors and other celebrities. If you go on an air-conditioned bus, scenes from a forgettable teen horror flick or a Jean Claude Van Damme movie will hound you. If you go al fresco on one of those ancient, lopsided, just-about-ready-to-collapse buses, your ears will be treated to a deafening cacophony of honks, shouts, whistles and engine roars through the entire ride.

You can count yourself lucky if most of your fellow passengers are just too sleepy to talk with their companions; generally, there is always some moderately loud conversation going on near you. It’s also a given that every once in a while, the driver will pick up a thread of conversation with his barker who also doubles as conductor and ticket-master during the ride. Sometimes, he even provides free entertainment as he tells new passengers where to sit: “O, mangaliwa ka lang, pare, mangaliwa ka lang!”.

When you get off from your ride and walk the rest of the way to your office, school, the hospital or some other destination, you’re greeted by street sweepers and the scraping sound their brooms make as fallen leaves are swept to the sidewalk and out of sight. The heels of thousands of other yuppies, students, nurses, etc. clack and tap on the gray pavement cracked at numerous different points. Stores finally open and their steel slide doors being raised up irritate your ears as they make that heavy, grating sound. Fast-food chains remind you of all the “buzzing” activity in a beehive with harried diners coming in and going out of them.

You can breathe out an audible sigh of relief only when you reach your destination. That’s the only time when you become insulated from all the racket of another bustling Manila morning. The only other time you emerge from this cocoon and hear that same racket all over again would probably be during lunch or short snacks outside your building. Then when you do make your way home after a day’s work, you encounter pretty much the same din. To add to this ruckus at night, there are hawkers busy selling their sampaguita, fishbol, adidas, isaw, buko juice, sago at gulaman, gulay, prutas, etc. and conversing with their customers in the language of money and merchandise. There may even be children of the streets who would play patintero with you when they bar your way and ask for some loose change and you look into their eyes, shake your head and try to dodge them. Finally reaching home at night, you become grateful once more that you have a real refuge - a pahingahan - from all the frenzied chaos of the city.

I have lived in the center of this hubbub all my life. I brave the jungle of jarring sounds of the metro every morning. I panic whenever I rummage around inside my bag for my mp3 player and my hand comes up empty. Devices like these have become necessities in drowning all the harsh noises of Manila and thereby staying sane for another day. Walking the kantos and eskinitas of Manila with my music on, I feel like I am the bida in a Pinoy indie film where the Eraserheads’ comforting song “Huwag Kang Matakot”, Cynthia Alexander’s upbeat ditty “The Weather Report” and The Makiling Ensemble’s rousing rendition of “Kalayaan” are all part of the movie soundtrack. I experience snatches of happiness in the midst of all the hurly-burly going on around me. But when I look at the faces of all the other commuters I pass by – some blank, some worried, many tired – I understand why they would want to be somewhere else. The tumult of everyday living here can be very draining. Life in Manila is difficult and the city simply too…LOUD most of the time. Unlike the lyrics of that song by Pinoy rock n’ roll band Hotdog in the 70’s, “Promise me you’ll never let go” is the last thing you’d be asking Manila to do for you.

This is not a lasting solution for a metropolis burdened with off-the-chart decibels of noise, but I recommend that YOU let go of Manila some time. Plan a little scenic getaway to a nearby province over the weekend, live in another part of the country for a few months, physically take yourself OUT of Manila when it becomes too much for you. Anything, really, so it doesn’t overwhelm you. This way, when you get back, you might be ready to “go placidly amid the noise and haste” of the city a couple more rounds. By that time, then, I’m sure the sound of our Manila’s countless “dyipning nagliliparan” would have become music to your ears once again.