Christmas Shopping

Today me and Tami, and every single Filipino in the entire Philippines, along with all their relatives living in San Francisco went down to an obscure mall called 168..or 186...I can't remember now, and my dyslexic brain is taking over for the moment. It was all the way down in a city called Recto, somewhere in the heart of Luzon...Ah, the terrors that we went through none can imagine. Getting to the mall was ok, but somehow once we were leaving we went out the wrong entrance (and when I say we, I'm referring to me, Tami, and the whole of the republic of the Philippines). "We" walked around for a while trying to trace back our steps to where we could pick up a jeepney, but all we saw were hundreds of stalls containing either fireworks, fruit, or baby clothes and if you were lucky you could find one with all three.

Finally we turned into an alley that was approximately 50 meters long. Mistake number 2 (mistake number one: deciding yesterday to go to Mall 168/86 today). Once we turned into the once promising looking alley, we were deadlocked. Wedged tighter than the tightest thing you can think of- me, tami, and of course, all of manila were forced into this one alley. During this process there were times when I wanted to laugh; times when I wanted to cry, but I would say the most predominant feeling being felt during this time was one of wonder. Where were all these people going? Where did they all live? Why were they ALL following me? And where in the world are all the jeepneys. It was truly amazing. I have actually found a place in Luzon where no jeepneys exist.

Mistake number 3: Me and Tami decided to ask for some directions. Using the five words we know in Tagalog, we managed to hire a man peddling a bicycle with a medal cage attached (do not be fooled, this was NOT a tricycle, this was a peddled bicycle with no engine) to take us to some jeepneys that were destined for the LRT station. He did better than that, he took us all the way to the LRT station. We got out of the bike relieved to see the station, only to find out that the driver wanted 200 pesos for a fifteen minute bike ride...200 PESOS!!! Let me put this in perspective for you, it cost us 7 pesos each to get to Mall 168 /186 and 200 pesos to go back over the same distance. Something was radically wrong, and yet the driver had looked so jolly and nice, i even remember referring to him as a "jolly old Santa Claus". He wasn't so jolly anymore however. We were angry, we were irate, we were livid and yet we only knew five words in tagalog. We couldn't get angry, there was simply no use since all our angry expostulations were done in English.

Our now not so nice Santa Clause Driver meanwhile acted as though he didn't know what we were talking about, (and when i say "WE" i most definitely mean only me and tami... our most close and now intimate friend the republic was suddenly no where to be found in our time of need). We tried to say no...even though we had the money, no one likes to get cheated that much. We stood there, tami and I arguing using english words with a few tagalog ones mixed in, him staring at us as though we had done him a great and serious diservice, when we are the ones who are monstrously being taken advantage of. five minutes later, we grew tired...he grew tired...we reluctantly made him hold in his hand 180 pesos. We start to head towards the stastion but he follows gesturing this is not enough...WE (the republic is now back watching me and tami very curiously) look at him...he looks at us and FINALLY shakes his head and leaves.

We (only me and tami - the republic now back to their daily tasks, giving us no thought whatsoever), head up to the LRT pay 15 pesos for a ride that covers over 10 times the distance the santa claus man did and go home...
THE END