From the Backseat

In the four years that I’ve been staying in Quezon City, it’s inevitable for me to ride the cab once in a while, to go somewhere either for school or for fun. Last Friday, I had to take the cab from Medical City (venue for my med school interview!) to Katipunan. It was an interesting 30-minute drive. For those who have been taking the taxi for a while now would know that there are three kinds of cab drivers: the quiet one who minds his own business and gets you to where you want to go; the creepy one who looks into the mirror once in a while, reaches for something somewhere and makes you feel really uncomfortable and afraid that he might rape you, and the talkative one who likes to talk about the weather, about Mike Enriquez on the radio, about his family, and just about anything.

So last Friday, it was interesting that the cab driver was extra cheerful to talk to me for the whole trip back to Katipunan. He was talking about his experience as a soldier in Mindanao for more than three years. He said he was lucky enough to be alive despite of being assigned in critical locations. He went on saying how much he hated the generals for stealing all the money that was supposed to go to the needs and supplies of the soldiers. The driver told me that soldiers were supposed to have at least five sets of uniform, but because the money seemed to have gone elsewhere, they can only be given one or two and these were supposed to last for their whole stay in a particular site. Aside from his military experience, the driver shared about his family. His eldest was graduating in three years from law school while his two other children were still in college. He shared that he realized, during his stint as a soldier, that there were other, safer ways for him to earn a living and to be with his family and so he decided to be a taxi driver and give up his job as a soldier.

But why am I sharing this and not my experience in the ASMPH interview? It just feels really good sometimes to talk to a stranger without having to worry what I’m supposed to say next or what information I have to share. I’m sure a lot of us have had experiences with cab drivers who just can’t help themselves in sharing their stories to their passengers. This wasn’t the first, but it was something I’ll be remembering for a while. Do you have your own taxi stories to share?