One Way

Article by: Jay Caguicla | Artwork by: Venessa Mendoza

It’s getting late as I set the noodles for dinner, without rice, far from the traditional Filipino manner. I just arrived from my studio type apartment from school and now ready to send myself to work even when I’m currently stirring the half-cooked noodles.

As I alternately sipping and munching the noodles, my eyes scan the whole place – I bought a second-hand electric stove, small cabinet and single bed from Ate Arlene’s hulugan, and a set of dinnerware for two. For two means, a spare, because I live alone. ***

Jeepneys are full.

I’m at the terminal for about seven minutes, and I keep on read-through the time on someone’s wrist as how it passes by. I know I was going to be late at work, and being late means only few customers for me tonight that is why I need to arrive early or the other girls will have a feast without me.

Today seems to be a special day, as so many people wear such great outfits in techno-color. I guess customers are on hunt to me today.

Luckily in this hell bound situation, a jeep stops with its driver shouting ‘Batangas!’ – the destination I need to be on.

Though the window clearly stated that ‘you can’t sit here comfortably,’ I shouldn’t whine even if only half of my butt got to sit. Still, it’s a relief, just for a short period of time.

A man on my left starts to move his hand beside my legs. Lucky him I’m already unwrapped with my pekpek short.

‘So traditional,’ I thought.

I simply stare at him for about three seconds before he realizes that I’ll be scandalous if he continued.

By the way, I’m Trisha – a working student, and at the same time, embarrassed of the job I am living with. ***

I look around trying to spot if there is the nuisance traffic getting to ruin my day, and yeah, the rapidly moving jeep begins to take slow and I could see the disappointment among the passengers having the same feeling as mine. I bet they are in a hurry too, excited to have fun yet have to face the most difficult circumstances of dealing with traffic.

One lady just screamed from the sidewalk as one child runs carrying the woman’s red shoulder bag, thief, I guess.

Nothing is new.

No one will help because no one cares.

And I don’t care, too.

Most people only live to survive, most of them steal – to feed a hungry stomach, or to overfeed a pocket.

People love making shits and using others to wipe their buttholes.

By the way, had I mentioned that I’m quite famous on our university? I always have better grades compared to my classmates and that’s what makes me famous in a negative way. Because a ‘no one’ like me has no right to surpass their level in any manner so as countermeasure they made stories to pull me down, you know, toxic mindset – when a tree bears good fruits, they will throw stones until it bears no more. They used me as an excuse and spread rumors, me for advertising my very own product and giving it for free to my professors.

They are brats.

And I’m just a hot girl – always on a hot topic at school, and has a hot job.

Again, I’m embarrassed with my job. But this is the only thing that gave me life, the only thing that let me continue to strive, and I repeatedly asking the world for its existence or even just the unfairness on the status.

I lost my focus as the jeep stop for unknown reason. Something just isn’t right as lot of people surpass.

I pray as they said that it is the most powerful weapon I could use if something goes on my way. I don’t exactly know what incident happened but not even a single car moving around the corner.

“What is that?” people now find fault on the atmosphere.

“Argh! I don’t have much time to waste… Manong what’s going on?!” a girl in blue dress trying to make a fuss.

“Sorry ma’am, I’m just a driver and I have nothing to do with the traffic.”

I started to feel the pain in my butt and knees, as I said it is not good to be stable in this position and that it’s unbearable that my body seems to weaken as the gravity keeps me out to the chair little by little.

My ears just fighting the horns of those cars furious to move on the road, the hopes in my nerves start to fade as the most tormented bad luck won over me.

People started getting off from the jeep and it feels great that it lessens the pain I have to take with my butt, but still… I know I am already late and I wouldn’t get a chance to explain my valid reasons for work with only myself.

Where am I going now? I don’t know any relatives – my dad died in diabetes, my only sister died in dengue and my ambitious mom left me for her sugar daddy.

Well, broken family is so normal in this country.

As the jeepney’s tires slowly rotating around the pavement, the reason behind the traffic revealed – there’s a dead man.

So, everyone rushes down from the jeep, and I just feel the urge to at least take a glimpse to the said accident probably 200 meters away from our position. And as I’m walking, there is this homeless man who begs for food. Poor little man, war equipments are more important compared to your life.

As I reach the area, all I see is a man lying on the ground with its head stuck under the bus. My eyes had enough so I decided to continue walking since it will take all of our time before the medical team reach the body. ***

“One Way”

This sign has been part of my life, the motto that makes me believe that my life is going on a right way and that this is the only way I could live.

I started to wave on people driving their cars, or even talking to people around.

Working always makes me feel exhausted – spending nights knocking on different cars’ windows and on every corner of the street near churches.

I sell candles.

And that is not the point why I’m embarrassed. It is because those candles are recycled candles from the grave of I-don’t-know-who.

Candles By: Vernalyn Montero

As I mold myself alone Soft and tender Having light colors Not strong Not bright May consume most of the time Yet, in just one way Same process You can mold me again And have the same end But I'm not offering my own self, I'm a seller Who gives what represents me A candle ... for myself