I was in Daraga at 2:30 am last Friday for the van that was to leave for Pilar.
So there I was in front of the van. The car had to be filled first to capacity, 12 passengers in this case. There was a young lady inside. She was catching up the first trip of the fastcraft, which leaves Pilar port at 4am. I also wanted to make it to the first trip of the fastcraft. The two-trip would bring us all to Masbate at 6am. I then would have all the time check in at the hotel, take breakfast and be ready for the opening ceremonies of the Alternative Class Program in Liceo de Masbate. I was invited to talk about cinema and society.
Soon it was 3 in the morning. There were just the two of us at the van. The dispatcher kept running to any tricycle that stopped hoping there would be more passengers and we could leave. There were two middle-aged men across the street but they would not get into the van until it was almost full of passengers. They were also leaving their options wider: a bus heading for Pilar may come and they could hop in.
A bus passed by, heading for Donsol, where the butandings were - I like to think - fast asleep at 3 in the morning. The two missed that bus. They thought it was only heading to the lair of the big fish. The bus was heading too for Pilar. It was one of those RoRo buses. They would roll in and roll out of the massive mouths of the ferry.
The two men then were like us waiting. The young woman inside had declared she would pay for 3 persons; I also verbalized my plan to pay for 2 persons. That would transform us two individuals into five individuals at dawn. We told the dispatcher about this system. Counting the two men across, we were already 7 passengers. Not enough, the young dispatcher said. We would have to wait for 5 more. Remember, the van has a capacity for 12.
I asked: isn't this van the one that is tasked of bringing passengers to that first trip that will cross Pilar to Masbate City. The dispatcher responded with the elan of a politician: we cannot promise you anything. We would try to leave at about 3 and make it there. But we cannot assure you anything. If I assure you and nothing happens, you will blame me. He sounded erudite. He sounded reasonable. Just like politicians.
I felt helpless before this cunning dispatcher. He was really good. Like a politician.
I felt stuck to the ground of that terminal in Daraga, The only comforting thing was the scent of three-in-one coffee in that small store employing two young boys who looked like they were 13 and 14 years of age. Unless they were elves.
But the young woman started computing: 720 pesos for the entire trip. If those two men would just pay the regular fare of 60 pesos each, they would contribute 120 pesos. Was I willing to divide with her the remaining 600 pesos? Yes, Yes, of course.
We relayed the proposal to the dispatcher, who summoned the driver. The two men were informed about the development. I settled into the seat on the second row, all mine. I closed my eyes waiting for the van to roar into darkness. But there was a commotion in front where the two men were seated. I opened my eyes and saw that the older man did not want to pay the regular fare. He wanted to pay only 50 pesos.
We were stuck again. For 10 pesos. I wanted to shell out the 10 pesos but I closed my eyes dreaming of the butanding dreaming of tourists.