Redoble Family

Bus ride to Moalboal is always fun, but my latest was not. But it’s worth my while staying late at the office scribbling a page or two telling the world about it.

I am comfortable with Librando drivers. They are known for their ethics, courtesy to passengers, and care for the huge piece of metal they are driving. But that driver last week, he was the exact opposite! He seemed irrationally in haste, as in super rush! I heard him arguing with his conductor for the latter’s sloppy moves in moving passengers in and out his bus. Thank God he’s not provided access to the eject button!  

I normally read or doze off on a bus ride, but not with that type of Librando driver behind the wheel. He floors the accelerator even on narrow curves, overtakes every vehicle ahead of him even if there are incoming vehicles on the opposite lane, and leaves a hair line clearance between vehicles that he fly’s by. I was about to shout to stop the bus and get-off, then I remembered my travels with Lola Iyang way back in the 70’s.

“JMYJ! (which stands for Jesus Maria y Joseph), hunoooong intawon dong manaog mi! Peste, gibate mabangga ta ayaw mi apila ug gusto kang mamatay!”

Those were exactly her lines every time we get-off either on an overspeeding Josmariwen or Gillamac Bus. There was even a time when we changed bus twice for the same reason. She could not stand the speed, the bumps, the rattles, and squeaking sound of the metals inside. When our bus ride gets rough, she never hesitates yelling to tell the driver to either slow down or stop. I could feel my feet melting in embarrassment as we walk the aisles and down the bus hearing those comments from the other passengers every time we do it. Let alone the giggles. Ulaw was not in Lola Iyang’s vocabulary. She always wanted to do things her way no matter what.

Part of our routine then was the regular visit to Tiyo Abon, Tiya Pedang, and her grandchildren in Labangon. While preparing the food basket for the boys in Labangon, she would never miss reminding me, “ Pag-purol Primo ha, para tunga ra imong plete! (Wear shorts to save 50% on fare).” I remembered bringing long pants despite the warning, and wear it after Lola Iyang has gotten her 50% discount on my fare. With my clean face, white-side-wall haircut, and underweight built on a very short shorts, Lola Iyang would surely get that fat discount.

Her favorite ride was on a Bebot Bus driven by late Nong Adjing Cabano(may he rest in peace) who caters to her whims and made her feel like the bus owner. “Hinay-hinay lang ta Djing!,” she always tell the driver without minding the other passengers. And indeed, she gets her requests, our bumpy bus ride seemed like the car driven by Fred of the Flinstone; very slow and bumpy.

Even with the extra care she took on her travel, and despite the Flinstone speed that she wished for, accident was still there just waiting to happen.

One afternoon from Cebu City, Nong Adjing was maneuvering a curve after Mantalongon on our way down to Barili. I could see the Barili Bay ahead, a beautiful site, when Nong Adjing shouted, “pang-gunit mo, nawad-an ug giya. (steering wheel is not working!)” He could not control the wheel, and could not hit the brake either, we all waited in fear as the bus swerved to the left side of the road and towards the ravine. People were shouting. Fortunately, the bus stopped at the cliff and it started leaning on its side towards the ravine, then it stopped moving. There was silence, and then chaos. Everyone’s in a hurry to get out. The front tire hit a stud and the bus was leaning on banana trees which prevented the bus from tipping over. I saw a pregnant woman jumped out and still standing on her feet scathe free. No one was hurt except the guy who jumped and could not control his movement, went rolling down the road with blooded elbows and broken ego.   

Lola Iyang was stingy to the max. He stretches every peso and takes every opportunity to save. One summer we were riding Donya Conchita, a small and old boat owned by William Lines(I am not very sure) to Iligan City. I was so excited. After we took our dinner, courtesy of Tiya Pedang, she squat on her cot slid into her white blanket provided by the deckhand and did some chit-chat with the other old woman near her. I did not have a ticket so I did not get a cot, that’s part of the puzzle. The water was calm and the small boat was wading in the dark waters like that of Jack Sparrow’s in the Caribean.

I was so tired and sleepy sitting on a white painted pipe in one corner of the deck when the public address system sounded off for ticket inspection. I looked at Lola Iyang and she asked me to approach her with her trademark beacon (mouth’s closed, biting her lower lip, fully opened eyes, and bowing her head together with the come-closer-to-me gesture of her hand). She whispered to me, “ Sulod sa kasilyas. Ayaw ug gawas kung dili mahuman ang inspection sa ticket.” So I went to the back end of the boat where I could see the turbulent water under, opened the stinky rest room door, locked myself up, and waited. I could hear my heart pounding louder than the roaring bunker engine. And I waited.

Then there was a knock on the door, “Sir, inspection sa ticket”, I did not answer. It was followed with louder knock and angrier call for me to open the door, still I did not answer. Then came the stern warning, “ dili gani ka mogawas mokuha ko ug guardiya!”, only then that I opened the door.

To make the long story short Lola Iyang negotiated for my fare, and again she got what she wanted. She bargained for a 100% discount, but she has gotten only half of it. Not bad, not bad at all!

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