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THE southbound train cutting through EDSA was packed with
working-day morning commuters. As it is everyday.
But this train had taken an unusually long time
arriving at the GMA-Kamuning station. Consequently, it was packed
from the two other stations it passed.
Chaos erupted when the train arrived. Men and
women jostled for the tiny space available left. The
air-conditioning had broken down and there was barely any
ventilation.
There, wedged between a hundred other sweating
women and their handbags stubbornly slung on a shoulder, never mind
if it ate up space that could have accommodated one more passenger,
I overheard two youngish ladies discussing our awkward state.
Girl 1: The train is always full. We could swap
faces here and nobody will notice.
Girl 2: Too many people use the train.
Girl 1: It wasn’t like this when it just
started operating.
Girl 2: The fare was much higher then.
Girl 1: They should hike up the fare again so
there won’t be too many people riding.
What an odd point of view, I thought to myself.
It would have more sense to me if these girls
wished that trains arrived more frequently so people wouldn’t
insist on cramming themselves into the first that arrives.
When we reached Cubao, more women tried to climb
in.
They snarled at us inside: Move to the middle!
Don’t block the doors! We need to get to work too! Selfish b*tch*s!â++
Those by the door acted as if they heard
nothing. Those in the aisle cared even less.
It was toasty inside. I could do nothing about
the purse poking my rib and somebody’s cologne was overpowering.
I let my mind wander in an effort not to keep up
with soaring blood pressure around me.
Only, my fanciful thoughts keep taking me back
to the train as I am reminded how much this is like a microcosm of
our larger society.
Train management was government; the commuters
are the people.
A lot of us are discontented. There is much to
be desired with respect to service. But we have something more
pressing at hand, get to where we are going so we grit our teeth and
fight our way in.
We grumble loudly but do not have the urge to
call management’s attention. They’ve always been unresponsive
anyway.
One or two try to speak out but are largely
ignored. They are criticized for delaying train operations further.
Two stations later I am literally shoved back to
reality as people claw their way out to the station platform, faces
scowled as they beat the buzzer at Shaw.
This is not a diatribe against MRT management.
Not entirely.
The MRT is one of my pet peeves. But I
appreciate that it is still the fastest way to Makati. And I am
grateful to a government that allows free speech.
I’d prefer a packed train than none at all.
This sounds much like saying that it’s better to have a government
that operates below expectations than none at all or have something
else we are totally unfamiliar with.
The rationale sounds practical and wretched at
the same time.
If there is room for improvement, we ought to go
for it.
For instance, an empty train could be sent to
GMA-Kamuning or Cubao directly so there would be space for the
ever-present throng of commuters.
Management could be more sensitive to the needs
of the commuters as government can be more sensitive to the
requirements of the masses.
Last week representatives of civil society
dialogued with Catholic bishops, bemoaning what they called a litany
of sins committed by the government. It was a broad list of
emotionally charged grievances over extrajudicial killings,
government contract scandals, violent demolitions, joblessness, mass
layoffs and landlessness.
They remind me of the one or two hotheads at the
MRT station grumbling over the situation in the middle of a much
larger crowd just wanting to go on with whatever it is they are
already doing.
The train stops in Makati. Time to race to the
turnstile.
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