Perhaps, the most interesting thing that could happen inside a jeepney, besides waiting for long hours during traffics, or wiping your glazing forehead, or fanning yourself with your hand and muttering curses under your breath, is when your legs get too close with another’s, and then realizing that all the legs you’re seeing are actually doing the same thing. And you can’t do anything about it.
It’s funny how I realized that just lately. Everyday, I ride the jeepney going to school and back home and it’s when heading home that I usually experience riding in a very crowded jeepney wherein even half of my butt sits while the other hangs helplessly until, if fortune does not come, I arrive at my destiny with my knees shaking and tired. Even legs, I realized, can tell a bit of who their owners are. There are some who prefer showing their smooth, bare legs while other choose to hide theirs. Others have huge ones; some, lean ones.
I think it’s the sweet part of riding jeepneys, even though some of them are too old already and run very slowly, or better, when their covers still shine under the sunlight and have cool surround-sound speakers attached inside. Even though it’s hard looking at this very minute, sentimental detail, I’m glad I’ve seen it anyway. At least I’d have the leisure of looking around different, colorful feet, then up to the varying sizes of legs, and all the way up to the different, blank faces of these strangers, and then mutter a simple thanks for the opportunity of appreciating one of life’s simple, irritating experiences inside crowded jeepneys. Yes, instead of finding myself swearing secretly in my head and hoping that I’ll soon arrive at my destiny.
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