Mangalino 1

Joanna Patricia P. Mangalino

Creative Writing 140

Prof. Anna Sanchez

29 May 2019

North, South, and Everything in Between

There’s a huge part of me that would have wanted to just crash into the bed after another

day of school and training – letting my back rest on the comfort brought about by the pillows and

having my eyes closed to lead myself even to the shortest slumbers I could get. There is also this

small voice inside my head, whispering and urging me to go and accept the invitation from a

friend, of whom texted earlier in the day to go out and chill later in the night, likely in one of the

prominent places in Katipunan so everyone joining can get the booze they would need to put in

their system. Yet, instead, I find myself carrying not just one, but two bags that could be

comparable with weights with the amount of stuff I needed to take back home.

“Sorry for taking too long to fix my stuff,” I immediately tell the person who has

patiently waited for me as soon as I have gone back down to leave the boarding house I stay in.

He tells me it’s nothing, but sometimes, the way he looks up and meets my eyes as I mutter my

apologies – all that’s seen in his eyes is the exhaustion and the lack of sleep – makes me feel

guilty. Still he gives me a soft pat on the back as reassurance, along with the offer of lessening

the weight I carried even for a short while, until we reached the jeepney terminal where we’d get

our respective rides. Then there we were, going separate ways at the stop, but not without

numerous attempts of a goodbye, partnered with a whispered ‘ingat ka’ (rough translation would
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fall in the lines of ‘You take care’) and ‘see you on Monday’. And as soon as the jeepney leaves,

my eyes close and my head leans against the metal that barely offers the comfort that I need, but

the only consolation I get to have before having to brave another commute just to get back to the

home I’ve always known.

[Me | Today 16:58] otw home na

If there’s one thing that has been constant throughout the years of studying away from

home, it’s the struggle of commuting. Braving rush hours, hoping for even the smallest standing

room, and falling in and out of traffic jams have been all too familiar parts of my routine at the

end of almost every week. Talk about being a South kid having to go to the North to attend

university.

Geographically speaking, this North and South thing, as popularized by those debates, is

defined by as to which portion of the Luzon island those parts of the metro head to – North for

those encompassed by Quezon City, Caloocan, Valenzuela and the like (which are the main

gateways when one heads up North) and South for the cities of Alabang and Muntinlupa which

then lead to the Southern provinces – Cavite, Laguna, Batangas, and a lot more.

[Kylie | 19 December 15:32] nasa doughnut

place ako if you wanna cram papers

together!

[Tet | 19 December 15:32] magkasama

kami dali punta na dito

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[Jamie | 19 December 15:33] libre mo ba

doughnuts

[Me | 19 December 15:33] uy libre, that’s a g jk

[Abi | 19 December 15:33] i still have my

exams aaaaa di ko pa na-fix paper

[Kylie | 19 December 15:34] ok g sagot ko

na 1 dozen, basta punta kayo dito let’s help

each other

[Me | 19 December 15:34] again, a want but am

not in qc na, pls send some in my way

[Tet | 19 December 15:34] girl, where are

you haha

[Me | 19 December 15:34] cavite na since all

reqs left are online submissions

[Kylie | 19 December 15:35] punta ka dito

south girl haha, sagot ko gas mo char

The debates are mostly inclined towards friends who can’t agree on a plan for a get

together in the city, with South people having to complain being the only ones exerting effort in

driving to places that aren’t even actually considered halfway the distance between them, while
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Northerners fight that there’s more to enjoy in the North than in the South. Also, North people

have the tendency to argue that there’s less of stuff to do in the south, and that the party places

are almost always at their base. South people somehow beg to differ, saying they have Tagaytay

nearby and in as much, Southerners also cry foul, saying that all you get in the North is be stuck

in numerous traffic jams.

[Me | Today 17:18] jeep pa-mrt

[Mom | Today 17:29] ok ingat

I usually do not have an idea how much the jeepney ride from Philcoa or Vinzons Hall to

the MRT station goes, especially after the construction of the line 7 of the MRT has begun in

Commonwealth Ave. My reason: I fall into a quick nap immediately after I pay my fare. (Yes, I

know I would likely fall asleep so I pay my fare as soon as I get my ride.) Whether it’s the

exhaustion from the day’s activities piling up on me or it’s the lack of proper rest at night, falling

asleep in the jeepney ride, despite all the possible dangers of being less alert in such public

transportation, is unavoidable for anyone who tends to travel for long hours.

[Mom | Today 18:48] where r u na?

[Me | Today 18:50] mrt pa, guadalupe

[Mom | Today 19:01] late ka na makakauwi niyan

[Me, drafts | Today 19:04] haha ye i know

hassle ng travel from north

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If the first of the jeepney rides has to be somehow light, taking the MRT or line 3 of the

Metro Rail Transit is not anything to be taken lightly, especially during the rush hours. The

country’s trains during rush hours are literal war zones: one would fight for even the smallest

space as standing room just to get to tones destination. Add to that would be the sensory overload

inside the train as the city lines move past in a blur outside: random titas talking about the latest

chika from their office (“Have you heard that the boss’s secretary was…”), a seatmate continuously receiving phone

calls from his co-workers, the weird mix of the smell of sweat and perfume, a shrill cry from an

uncomfortable baby, a random phone with a completely obnoxious ringtone blaring, the scent of

some food some passenger probably has brought as pasalubong and many more.

I remember vividly one of my first few times having to ride the MRT again, after years of

not riding it for always having to be dropped off and fetched by overprotective parents. It was

almost the end of rush hour by then, the crowds lessened by about a quarter of their usual volume

and the traffic in EDSA becoming a bit lighter as well. A faint smell of a body spray with a

flowery scent lingers through the throng of female passengers waiting for the security guard to

loosen the rope barrier and let us in on the train. All I could remember from then on was as soon

as the guard lets us pass through, I moved along with the rushing crowd to get in. My mom tells

me she became aware of a situation when someone said ‘Ay, ‘yung babae nahulog!’, but didn’t

think I was the one involved until she saw me, one leg in the gap between the waiting platform

and the train. I couldn’t bear to lift my pants and check the injuries I have gotten that day, but my

mom forces me to so she could get an assessment. Every time people hear this story and I tell
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them I only got a couple of bruises and wound, angry and red, they tell me I had luck beside me

that day with no bone having been broken. Maybe it was indeed luck but still, up to this day, I

bear the mark of the incident: a scar on my leg and an extra cautious effort to ensure I take the

right steps every time I do.

Sometimes I happen to witness how strangers help each other, too. It was this one time

where I was silently sitting, on a rush hour afternoon, nonetheless. The train got filled quite fast –

standing room included that it is somehow likened to fish in a can as to how packed it is. There’s

this certain female passenger, in a plain shirt and pants and obviously trying to cancel the noise

from other passengers by having earphones plugged in, likely to have put her music in a

sufficient volume. She’s been standing for quite some time, even when a bulk of the passengers

have alighted in one specific station where she wasn’t able to find a seat of her own. No one

knows how much exhaustion she must have had been feeling, but a stop before mine, she just

collapsed, loud thud heard at the same time I turned off my music player to fix my earphones. In

as quick as she fell, another passenger went to her, and helped her up, to the point that they both

alighted on the next stop, still stranger assisting another complete stranger.

[Mom | Today 20:55] where ka na

[Me | Today 20:58] taft na, pila ng van

[Mom | Today 21:09] k

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[Me, drafts | Today 21:13] been here since

8pm pa tho, haba pa rin ng pila and there’s no

uv coming pa hahaaay i love the south talaga

If it’s not the train ride that would beat me down, it definitely will be what comes after:

either the jeepney ride or the journey in a UV Express vehicle. There lies two options in reaching

the house I grew up in upon alighting from the train, and a number of terminals in which I can

get a ride in one of those. But the main opponent I had to face in here would have to be the

waiting queues.

Having classes that end late in the afternoons which forces me to go along with the huge

wave of commuters in the rush hour makes me be part of a long line, too long to the point that it

has to snake around, making a zigzag while waiting for a van (probably trying to avoid getting

caught by the MMDA for being colorum). My phone battery usually falls halfway in here, while

I munch on a burger or anything cheap to get me through. Sometimes, the scent of meat being

grilled over charcoal wafts to where the queues are: a whole tempting smell, but of course, my

wallet would barely suffice for my fare. Sometimes, I get enough to get myself a to-go rice meal

and pick a jeepney ride instead of a UV Express one. Taking the jeep’s cheaper, but a little more

risky given that it’s in the late night.

Traffic in the South’s a major battle, too. Too many establishments: fast-food chains,

malls in their closing hours, ktv bars, name it! (What was it again with the Northerners

complaining there isn’t much to do in the Sotuh?) They all contribute to the traffic homebound

commuters have to bear.

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[Mom | Today 22:12] malapit ka na ba

[Me | Today 22:15] sm na

[Mom | Today 22:17] pasundo na kita sa gate sa

kapatid mo

There’s a sigh that I had let out, knowing someone would help me alleviate the

exhaustion I have been feeling. Moreover, someone who would treat the stray dogs roaming in

our street as if they’re non-existent would be there to help me out, pushing away my (slightly

irrational) worries of one having to bite me.

As soon as my back crashes against the comfort of softer sheets, a feeling I have craved

since the activities for the day had ended, relief washes over me, all complaints seemed to have

been gone upon getting the rest I needed.

In as fast as my eyes have closed, I fell asleep, The weekend that passes the moment that

I wake up goes by in a blur, as well.

I lost track as to how much time I have spent, since it seemed like I only had to take a

blink before Monday falls back in, and a familiar text message is signaled by the vibration

coming off my phone.

[Him | 09:03] what time are you leaving

It’s another round of the battle I have to face, a certain amount of my time having to go through

the travelling. But somehow, if it’s the Monday refreshing vibe, or something else, there’s a

feeling of anticipation in every step I have as I leave home.

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[Me | 09:15] around 11?

[Him | 09:17] Okay, Ingat ka. See you later. :)