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Wednesday, 26 March 2008 |
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"Makati po tayo," I told the cabby as I closed the door. He remained silent and he seemed to be confused. In a hesitant and shy tone, he told me that he doesn't know how to get there. He didn't ask me to guide him, in fact, he remained silent for a few seconds as if internalizing what I just told him.
Normally, I would just get off the cab and hail for another. Sometimes I would get off and slam the door because I don't trust cabbies nowadays. Some, they would tell you that they don't know the place then their next words would be asking you to pay for additional fee (sometimes a tip). Some would reject passengers when they hear the name of the city (Makati City is known for one-way roads and strict traffic enforcers). Some would ask you to get off and hail for another cab instead. I hate those kinds.
Tonight I did not get off the cab. No slamming of doors happened. I just simply told the cabby that I would give him directions to get to Makati City. I did not know that he was clueless on how to go to EDSA from the Podium until he spoke again in a humble tone. It was then that I felt sad or even sorry for the guy. He could be new here in the city. He could be one of those fresh from the province and he could be one of those who wanted to try their luck in the big city. I saw him touch his rosary and made the sign of the cross before crossing EDSA. He was nervous I know.
I can't help but emphatize with people like him and just saying so makes me want to cry. He was driving and I was guiding him all the way from Pasig to Makati City. Giving him even the simplest direction like staying at the right-most lane so we could turn right to Buendia. He has no idea how to get to EDSA what more on how to get to Buendia.
I even thought of getting off from the cab somewhere in EDSA so he would still have his sense of direction as I am sure he's confident just driving along EDSA but then again I thought he should at least try to drive to Makati City so he'd learn something tonight that may help him in the future.
"Lord, please bless my cabby tonight. He seemed to be new here. Please take care of him and bless him always with good passengers. Better than I am. You see, I don't have enough money but I hope he'd be able to take in lots of good passengers tonight, someone who could give him some tip, maybe? I can only give a tip as much as 20-bucks tonight, eh. You know why."
You know what I remembered during that cab-ride? I remembered every single moment in my life when I had to be left alone. I remembered every single moment in my life when I had to survive on my own. I remembered the feeling of being thrown into the ocean when I do not know how to swim nor I know which direction to go.
"Ma'am, may palabas po ba ng EDSA pag galing sa inyo?" I knew he asked me that against his pride. I promised him I'd give him direction before I get off. And I did.
I asked him to pull over at the corner of our street. I did not ask him to go inside the village because I was worried he might not get my direction on how to go back to EDSA.
"I'd walk a block, Lord, just make sure he gets to his target destination safely..."
I was surprised when he got off the cab and opened the door for me as if he was driving a limo and he was my chauffeur. He was surprised when I handed him my fare. I think he forgot about that part because he was busy worrying.
"Are you sure you got my direction right?" I asked after thanking him for opening the door for me. He said he'll be all right then he thanked me. And that was the end of our journey. His journey to Makati and me to my emotional trip.
I walked to my doorstep with a heavy feeling. I wish sometimes we have a way to know if those people, those kind-hearted strangers that we meet along the way, are safely home, too, each time they bring us home safe and sound.
But I know I shouldn't feel sorry for him nor feel scared for him just because he's a novice and he's too kind. God will guide him as He has guided me. God will bless him as He has blessed my life.
I know. I just know.
Ahhh... strangers. Sometimes I wish I know their stories. Somehow they make me stronger.
Readers have left 3 comments. 1. Untitled
tin, Unregistered i am so sensitive naiyak pa ako sa post na ito...sows 2. Untitled
mae, Unregistered same here Tin.. every time I remember, still brings tears to my eyes. Life. We gotta do what we gotta do to survive. *sigh* 3. Untitled
ria, Unregistered you will never know, but he may be an angel.... |
Silent Hollo (limited) 
I am Mae German. 32 years old. Born in Mangatarem, province of Pangasinan. I was taught and trained by Juan Dela Cruz, and I am currently being trained for more by Uncle Sam. Writing since the age of 12. Blogging since 2001. I keep a notebook and a pen in my bag, on my bedside table, and inside the bathroom. Misses a lot. Sometimes even my own voice. Loves to laugh. Sometimes even at myself. I am a work in progress. My ultimate dream is to be a SAHM. That is, if I am bound to have that chance in this lifetime... and I am.