Jeepney Drummer

Shut down the mac. Dash to the elevator. Swipe the card. Out the glass doors. Past the turnstile. Walk briskly towards the overpass.

Tic toc tic toc. Exhaust pipe after exhaust pipe. Smoke after smoke. Sidewalk gawker.

Epiphany stopped at the 10th minute. Three passengers got off as we scrambled for seats. I hollered, "Bayad po, dalawa!"* and got change for a twenty.

A bunch of teenagers seated towards the rear, a twice a week gathering on their lips.  More overheard utterings as we nudge each other with a smile. More passengers get on. A young father with his baby with a big red hoodie. More shouts of "Bayad po!"** as coins are passed from one palm to another.

Traffic at its critical mass. A guy with a torn-off right sleeve and shorts awash in grime alighted. Spreading empty postal envelopes inscribed with "Kahit barya lang po. Maligayang Pasko at Happy New Year. Salamat po."*** onto laps or opened hands.

Uninvited nth passenger who took a seat at the jeepney's rear end. Drumbeats with no metric lines. Louder and louder until I was compelled to shell out a five-peso coin and place it inside the envelope. A wave of charity finally swept. Pass it on.

The drumbeats ceased. He got up and collected the remaining envelopes that were lying on the jeepney's floor. "Salamat po!" he muttered and took off with his makeshift drum.

We don't celebrate Christmas.


*"Driver, fare for two!"
**"Driver, here's my fare!"
***"Coins are enough. Merry X'mas & Happy New Year! Thank you."