Transportation is simple—it’s just going from point A to point B.

Making this concept available to the general public is something that governments and city planners can hang their hats on—an efficient commuting system is one of the hallmarks of a successful city.

Manila’s public transportation system is an interesting thing to examine—it’s a far cry from the winding metros of France or the tramways of Italy, but is no less effective. The jeepney drivers know every nook and cranny of the city, and the LRT stations are landmarks and beacons, where weary travelers flock.

Against this system is the private mode of transportation—the car. For this challenge, an ordinary Ford Focus, driven by a team of an inexperienced driver-cum-photographer and her Google Maps equipped navigator will be pitted against the colorful chaos of the jeepney and the writhing mass of humanity that winds through the LRT stations. Plying the commuting routes are two relatively inexperienced commuters—they basically only know how to get to Araneta Coliseum and De La Salle University, which are train rides away and that’s about it.

The challenge: a dash from Leong Hall in Ateneo to the doors of the Manila Cathedral in Intramuros. Team Pet-run versus Team Petron.

Ready, set.

Go.

Swapping bills with coins

After the 40-minute discussion of what was to become of the rest of the day, the race finally began at 4:40pm. Watches were synchronized, goodbyes were said, and the teams ran off, the theme of the Amazing Race thumping in their heads.

It started to drizzle on the way to the LRT station. While the commuting team, Leon and Kara, was dodging the torrential rain that had started to fall, the drivers, Vic and Stella, had begun to negotiate Katipunan traffic.

The train ride was an easy task to conquer. Counting the minutes by the dot, Team Pet-run was halfway through the LRT 2 at 5:10pm, passing by V. Mapa station. After a few more stops, the train stopped at Recto. While the 35-minute trip mostly consisted of conversations involving hopeless romance and drama Team Pet-run ultimately came to the realization that neither of them had ever taken a jeepney before. Before any panic set in, the doors opened and the tide of humanity surged out of Recto station.

Here the team looked for directions as to where to go next. In a moment of triumph and vindication, both security guards they asked offered the same advice—take the jeep labeled, “Pier.” Boosted by the prospect of a definite plan, the team carried on and quickly boarded a jeep, saying simply “Manila Cathedral.”

After the long expanse of motels, smoke-belchers, and uncanny passengers, both finally emerged from conspicuous Avenida to a bridge built over Pasig River—Nagtahan.

The jeepney ride could not have gotten any more out of the ordinary when the rain began getting harder and things were falling out of sight. With an open window, or lack thereof, the water surged in and Kara’s jeans instantly became the sponge that prevented the seats from getting wet. Leon, on the other hand, struggled to get a hold of his phone—and with the awkward silence and long sighs, they both knew panic was about to set in for good. And no, the setting of the sun did not help them calm down at all. It was getting dark, cold, and the roads they were trudging were more than unknown.

Seeing an old ice cream parlor appropriately called ‘Intramuros Ice Cream’ made their hearts beat faster because they knew victory was definitely in the bag.

Walking to Manila Cathedral with a wave of relief for a found phone and a right leg that’s heavier than the left, both Kara and Leon savored the rush of triumph and fulfillment of getting this far with minimal damage. Camera phones suddenly became Kara’s make-shift DSLR, and he began talking like an experienced Old Manila tour guide.

Gassing up

When one learns to drive, one has several fantasies playing out in one’s head—the purr of the engine morphing to a roar as you floor the gas, the clear pavement ahead, a tank full of gas and a life full of adventure. It’s the allure of the open road.

Then one starts to drive in Manila, and learns the horrible truth. That at some point there’s either traffic or an accident: traffic caused by an accident, accident caused by traffic; and somewhere in the middle is just plain chaos. There’s nothing more helpless when you’re stuck in traffic; you really can’t do squat but sit there.

It never really dawned on Team Petron that they were going to Taft during rush hour until they started the journey. Google Maps assured Vic and Stella (the photographer and driver) that the travel would be long, as their eyes attempted to piece together their route.

They left around the end of a long academic afternoon and it took them a while to get out of school. This would only be the second time Stella had been to EDSA and the third to Taft, and so with copious amounts of backseat driving from Vic, they trudged through the roadways. The team cut through a military camp only to see that the shortcut they pinned their hopes on only led to a coagulated EDSA. What should be a glorious artery filling the city with its lifeblood, oftentimes resembles the clogged veins of someone who’s had too much crispy pata.

Finally, after going in a relatively straight line for the better part of an hour, they found Taft. And so began another stretch of plodding, honking, squealing at close calls and exhausting of profane vocabulary. Somewhere in the middle of Taft, the team began to lose hope in winning the race—and with the opposing team lounging around in fast-food pizza, calling every 15 minutes to check up on the drive, their pessimism was confirmed.

At some points the drive became an endless sequence of getting angry at the traffic then zoning out, then snapping out of the daydream only to notice the traffic was still there. The conversation digressed to the senseless, then to the silence; occasionally broken with different variations of the Lord’s name. The painstakingly awkward silence was just as unbearable as the long mass of cars that stretched on forever.

Finally, after numerous blocks of cesspool traffic they reach the end. Naturally, Team Petron got lost and wanders around aimlessly for a couple of minutes. But after just the right amount of wrong and right turns both reach what appears to be a church; fortuitously, the Manila Cathedral.

The ride back home was quite the joyride for Leon, Vic, and Kara There’s a challenge in delving through the rush hour crowd, but it is definitely another thing to be the only passengers in a jeepney that drove like the brake pedal never existed. The sight of the seedy street in front of Doroteo Jose station was a welcome one, and they regained the spring in their step and the swagger only survivors can muster.

Although commuting back, a conglomerate of confusion, dismay, and relief was infinitely better than being stuck in traffic, easily.

Regardless of the fact that there was a possibility of being stabbed, taking the commuter’s route made for a better life decision for the three musketeers who braved the mean streets of the Metro with nothing but courage in their pockets.