CHAPTER 9
THE BUS TO DAET
MANILA,
The hotel clerk's eyes searched the lobby for T.A. and Malou. Eventually he spotted them seated, their backs to him, watching through the large windows at people walking past the hotel on Mabini Street. The clerk made his way past a large group of newly arrived patrons checking in at the reception desk. From the flags attached to many of the bags and the conversations in different languages, the clerk knew they were from many different countries. On reaching T.A. and Malou’s front, he crouched so they did not have to look up.
"It might be a good idea to get to the bus departure area just in case they decide to leave early," he suggested.
"O.K., thanks," replied T.A. He grinned at the thought of any Filipino transport or individual leaving on time let alone arriving early.
"If your bags are ready I'll arrange for the boy to get a taxi and instruct the driver where to go."
"Yes, thanks," replied T.A. "Those two black tube bags are ours. Also this small carry bag, but I'll look after it myself."
Getting to the bus in the air-conditioned taxi cab should only take ten minutes. From experience, T.A. wound up the windows and locked the doors as soon as they were inside the cab. He knew 'Americano' tourists in cabs were frequent targets for beggars, cripples and bag snatchers.
While stopped at one of the many sets of lights on the way, T.A. watched a crippled child beggar go into his routine. About nine years old, he was sitting on his buttocks well into the path of oncoming traffic on Roxas Boulevard. His seemingly crippled and useless right leg was cast at an impossible angle. He shuffled on his bottom towards another cab held up by the red light and carrying a tourist. Then grabbing the door handle without managing to open the door, he pulled himself up the side of the taxi and began his routine. With sad tear-stained eyes and a dirty face, he stared directly at the passenger in the back seat. Then rubbing his bared stomach with his free hand he put empty fingers up to his mouth. It did not bring any favourable reward or response. Unsuccessful, he let his body slump to the ground.
He must have decided he was not in the best or luckiest location for much reward. He dragged his leg back to a normal position, sprang to his feet and sprinted as quickly as any able-bodied nine year old to a new position on the opposite side of the road. Quickly he slumped down, pushed his leg out again, and waited for the next red light to stop the traffic.
T.A. had become accustomed to this, but the skills these children showed still made him a smile. He too had been an easy mark, but only the first three or four times; maybe it was five or six as he was still an easy mark.
Once at the bus depot, the seemingly mandatory argument over the cab driver demanding more than the pre-agreed fare price and show of the meter took place before it was amicably settled, as originally agreed. They had to remove their own bags from the taxi cab boot. At the rear of the bus a woman in a smart light blue uniform was bossily giving orders.
She exhibited a supercilious manner while she checked the tickets and baggage outside the bus. It was far from the usual casual Filipino manner. The bus motor hummed reassuringly. T.A. hoped the other mechanical parts, especially the brakes, were as well prepared.
He looked at the dozens of people standing around waiting like spectators at a fire. Several were obviously passengers; others were just 'stand-bys'. Not stand-by passengers like on an airline, but onlookers. He felt uncomfortable at the idea of passengers' baggage being left haphazardly strewn around the footpath for any opportunistic thief. While keeping a wary eye on their baggage he watched the passengers verifying their tickets with the power-proud woman. They were a wide mix of ages and races. He could not tell the difference in the European races unless he could hear their voices above all the surrounding Ermita traffic noises.
There were some English and American accents as well as some possible Australian or New Zealand accents. A couple of fit looking Arab guys were wearing tight T-shirts showing off their physique. Other voices were too faint to get a clue. A fair sprinkling of Filipinos waited to board. He wondered if any were going to their destination, Apuao Grande.
The surrounding noise was a mix of horns tooting, ineffective vehicle mufflers, jeepneys proudly blasting a loud cacophony of the music from a dozen different radio stations. He had become accustomed to the noise level, but did not think that he could ever live in this vehicle generated air and noise pollution.
"You may now enter the bus," she said condescendingly to T.A. when she passed where he and Malou were standing.
"I'd rather wait until I see the baggage is loaded first," responded T.A.
"The baggage is now our concern, sir."
Sarcastically T.A. responded "Well, in that case you wouldn't mind giving me a receipt for the bags and all the contents just in case they go missing would you?"
"I just thought you'd be more comfortable in the bus out of the heat, sir."
"Never mind, I'll wait until the baggage is loaded, thanks."
She nodded to someone behind T.A. and he turned to see a sudden flurry of activity as the bags were loaded into the open side-doors beneath the bus.
"As you can see the bags are loaded and the bus is cooler."
T.A. knew she was right. The truth of her statement was obvious from the continuous sweat dripping from his forehead. No amount of wiping ever removed the sweat from his brow for more than a few seconds.
Around 5.30 p.m., the sun was making its same timely departure for the day. Despite the time, the heat was still oppressive. He ushered Malou up the bus steps. Toting the carry bag, he followed her to their seats which she found midway down the bus. The sudden coolness of the bus air-conditioning made him shiver. He felt progressively colder as his sweat laden clothing cooled to the bus temperature.
The intended 5.30.P.M. departure eventually drifted past 6.00.P.M. Minutes later, the driver, one of three Filipinos who had been in and out of the driver's seat in the preceding 30 minutes, adjusted the seat yet again. Then standing on the seat switched on a small T.V. above his head and started to adjust the controls. No matter how much he tried, the picture kept fading in and out. It worried T.A. that the driver might watch the T.V. while driving the bus.
About 6.30.P.M. the bus finally moved off, much as he expected of "Filipino time". It meant now that arrival at the depot in Daet would now probably be an hour later at 3.00A.M., or was it 4.00A.M.? It did not matter. He hoped the arrangements for meeting them would still stand.
After the bus passed through the red light district of Ermita, he lost track of where it went. He tried, and then gave up watching the T.V. There was more snow than picture and more static than voice. T.A. looked at the passengers across the aisle; they were Filipino. The voices immediately in front seemed to be English. He had not heard any sound from the people behind him. He had only noticed it was a European looking couple.
The air-con knob above his head was only slightly directional and no way for it to be closed or switched off. The excessively cold air stream was making him shiver. Malou, oblivious to the cold, was already asleep. She had leaned on his shoulder and dozed immediately they sat down and slept for the full hour before the bus moved off. He did not want to move excessively, not wanting her to wake; she might start complaining about the cold. T.A. hoped their first stop would be soon. Because he was cold, sleep evaded him, so he wanted to retrieve something warm from the baggage compartment.
After three hours they exited the city suburbs and the last motorway had ended. It was now down to a two lane road with no dividing strip.
Though sleep deprived he could not draw his eyes away from the front and then the right side windows. The T.V. had only shown snow for the last two hours. In the Philippines they drove on the right side of the road, not on the left as at home. That was disconcerting. On these narrow roads it seemed dangerous driving at the speed the bus was going. It was frightening watching the faint underpowered jeepney and truck headlights coming toward their bus.
The r
oad was officially two-way, but its width seemed to be only about one and three-quarter vehicles wide. Too narrow for vehicles to pass without each having one set of wheels on the rough verge. There was so much traffic that the right hand wheels of the bus seemed continually on the rough unsealed verge. The extra wear and tear on the right hand tyres was inviting a blow out. At the very least it seemed they would run over some of the rural pedestrians who used the verges as footpaths.
He felt his worrying as a passenger was the spiritual thing preventing any accidents.
In addition, the too frequent checking of the time on his watch was warping the normal speed of time. His actions were slowing down time. There was never more than five minutes between one glance and the next, even though he was sure that at least fifteen minutes should have passed.
After three more harrowing hours according to his watch, but seven hours of shivering according to his mind, the bus suddenly swung from the right hand side of the road to the left between two oncoming jeepneys. It narrowly missed some lethargic pedestrians, who quickly became animated to avoid being hit. The bus pulled to a gradual stop outside a small roadside cafe.
Most of the sleeping Filipino and Filipina passengers did not stir. The driver stood out of his seat and cast a glance over his sleeping flock. Satisfied, he opened the front doors and stepped out. Many of the non-Filipino passengers followed.
T.A. gently eased his shoulder from under Malou's head without waking her. Stepping over her feet he made his way to the door. Heat hit his face as he exited but the immediate warming in his body was as welcome as a powerful three bar heater in a snow storm. It felt good.
Within minutes the sweat began pouring off his forehead and mugginess overtook the chill factor of his body. Despite this re-warming he was not going to miss the opportunity to get into his bag for some warmer clothes. T.A. located the driver who had already begun eating a container of rice and something else he did not recognise.
"Can I get into the baggage compartment to get some other clothes please?"
"Sure," replied the driver.
He tossed the keys at a man sitting opposite him, and muttered something in their common language. T.A. accompanied the willing key carrier to the baggage compartments of the bus. Immediately the side door was opened he saw the tube-bag he wanted was behind all the others. His smaller tube-bag was at the front and contained his large beach towel; that would do as a blanket. As he reached for his bag a woman's arm reached past him to get a small bag beside his. It was the woman sitting directly behind him on the bus. He stood back to let her get her bag, then quickly extracted the towel from his bag.
His co-passenger was holding a packet of cigarettes in one hand and obviously searching for a lighter with the other. T.A. too felt like a cigarette. He draped the towel over his shoulder and pulled out his cigarettes from his pocket. They were damp from his sweat. He turned to the still searching co-passenger and offered her a light.
"Danka."
"From Germany?"
"Ja."
"Going to Apuao Grande?"
"Sorry, English is not good."
"No, I am sorry. I wished I could speak other languages. T.A. remembered he had two lighters in his pocket. He showed the co-passenger he had two and offered her one.
"Here, you have one. My name is T.A."
She smiled as she accepted the lighter. Her age was difficult to judge, anywhere between 30 and 40.
"Danka. My name is Heidi. Excuse please, I getting a coffee."
Her hair was mousy coloured and thin in the straw-like style of the tennis professional Martina Navratilova. Her face too was thin and drawn with a trace of dark circles under her eyes as if she had not had much sleep in recent days. About 1.55 metres tall, she had a slim but well muscled body as though she was conscious of fitness. She was not ugly, more plain than ugly. He realised he too probably looked neither handsome nor smelt that nice either after the uncomfortable time on the bus. At least her smile was nice, even if it seemed to lack genuineness.
T.A. wandered around, including making a brief entry into the roadside cafe to see what it contained. The food looked unappealing even though it smelled nice. He did not want to risk the coffee on offer. He had ample packets of juice in the carry bag on the bus.
He sensed the eyes of the co-smoker were following him around. Yet, every time he looked in her direction her eyes averted elsewhere. Noticing the sign pointing to the toilets, he decided to take advantage of the facility to relieve the pressure of his bladder.
As he approached the toilet he could hear two men arguing inside in semi-hushed tones. He could not understand what they were saying. When he entered the toilet he saw it was the two Arab looking co-passengers from the bus. Their disagreement stopped immediately they saw him and they rapidly left the toilet block not looking at him as they left. He looked over the shoulder high toilet wall at the two Arabs walking back toward the bus. The German woman looked disparagingly at them as they passed her.
T.A. was last back on the bus. The driver nodded at him as he climbed the steps and shut the door immediately he reached the top step. The bus jerked forward and began accelerating away before he had begun negotiating the narrow aisle. It was going to be difficult trying to sneak back into his seat without disturbing Malou. He leaned on the back of the seat to steady himself and climb over Malou's feet. The couple seated behind him were watching. This time they both gave an acknowledging nod. He responded with a smile and nod. As he sat down he thought what an odd couple they made. The man seemed much too young and good looking to be with her. With strong Aryan features he looked at least 5 years younger than her and had a good build. T.A. realised he did not have any right to judge partners for other people. She must have good points. It's just that they were not obvious to T.A.
He settled and covered his legs with the thick towel. Its warmth and his tiredness overtook him. He hoped the bus driver remembered to wake them to get off in Daet.
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150 MILES WEST OF FIJI, South Pacific
Leaving Fiji with a half load of bagged processed sugar meant that the most risky part of his extended deal with the Libyans was about to start. To Captain Con Theodopolous, the idea of extracting up to 150 Libyans from a few pick-up points around the Philippines was a risky operation. He had started to get a general idea about the operation in which he had become involved. The Libyans would be gathering in groups on various islands; then board his ship from bancas at several pre-designated points.
Confirmation radio codes and frequencies had been given for use on specific days. He feared he had become involved in a covert action against a nation of people he had come to love in the past few weeks. He was also risking his life, the life of the crew and his ship.
This time, the steamer was empty of Filipinos. He had already taken three shiploads from areas in the southern Philippines, and then returned them three months later. They had been like a breath of fresh air into his life. Despite their cramped conditions there had never been any sign of discontent. The language barrier that existed between most of them and his crew had not been a source of aggravation, just another reason for laughter. The happiness and singing on the trips made him feel that he was skippering a luxury passenger liner rather than a steamer. On his ship, the entertainment was being provided by the passengers instead of paid professionals. His crew and the Filipinos mixed freely. The Libyans, by contrast, remained aloof and disassociated themselves from inter-action with the Filipinos or his crew. He did not care. He and his crew had spent many happy nights over the past few months. Alcohol was not needed to make the nights enjoyable. His crew was enjoying the trips as much as he was, except when in close proximity with the surly Libyans.
He could take his time cruising back to the seas around the Philippines. He had excess time available before his first of the pick-up points in the Sulu Sea. This trip he had six heavily armed Libyans aboard watching him and not one friendly Filipino face to lighten the trip.
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