There are moments in my life when I feel proud that my parents didn’t spoil
me as much as other kids. We didn’t have (and we still don’t, actually) a posh
house, nor the biggest allowances. We had to
wait a long time for stuff that we wanted, and made sure we can prove that we
deserved those things.
But then there are other moments in my life when I’m all–”O SHI*. What the
frak is happening?!” In short, there are times when I realize that hey, you’re
sheltered, too. One such time I felt that was quite recently, when I ventured
by myself to Manila’s
local bargain deal mecca Divisoria. I’ve been to Divisoria many times before,
and I’ve always found it fun. I learned I had to really dress down, wear no jewelry, and
distribute my money in various hiding places. However, when I went alone, the
vibe I felt was completely different.
I don’t understand why I had
to go to Divisoria, so off I went. Honestly, I never bothered to memorize the
route going there because we would always take different ones. (At least I
think so.) So all the way to the market, I was texting my friend, asking if I
was going the right way still, etc. (Haha, sheltered talaga. Pano kung wala
akong cellphone?) During one stop while I was in a jeep, a taong grasa
(homeless street dweller) came in and started crawling on the vehicle’s floor,
wiping the passengers’ feet and shoes with a very filthy rug, then asking for
alms. Now, I’m not new to commuting–I had seen people who tried to sell me
dried mangoes, vendors who forced me to buy peanuts, and a thief who attempted
to slash my bag, among others, but this shoe-wiping was new to me. I’ll admit
that it freaked me out a bit.
Add to that, it was almost
sunset when I left the house on this “emergency errand”. By the time I got
there, it was dusk indeed. I think I was supposed to get off on Juan Luna street,
where 168 Mall was, but the jeepney just sped through the dizzying alleys that
I barely got a glimpse of the corner marker. “Whatever,” I thought. I’ll just
go down a place that looks more familiar. The thing is, none of the places looked
any more familiar. I stayed in the jeep until the driver said this is as far as
he’ll go. A couple of seconds after I got out of the jeep was that moment—”O
SHI*.”
The driver dropped us off at this very wide road–it looked like a 5-lane
road, but it was impossibly crowded with people, wares, produce, trucks, trash,
and other things. A car couldn’t pass through it unless they forced it. It was
getting really dark, and there were barely any street lights. People were
pushing, the ground was muddy. I think I saw Tutuban Mall, but I really wasn’t
sure. I didn’t know where I was at all.
Knowing not to ask just random people for directions, I headed for Jollibee
hoping to talk to a waiter or security guard, but it was closed. I went to Mang
Inasal next to it, and asked the girl at the counter. She asked her manager
then gave me a vague “doon” (there) with matching finger-pointing action. Okay,
good enough. I didn’t want to take too long asking for directions lest she
start asking everyone for directions, therefore attracting too much attention
to this “tourist”. Paranoid much, yeah. But true enough, a handful of
bystanders were already eyeing me on my way out.
I eventually found my way to 168 Mall, with the help of one more security
guard whom I asked directions from while walking there. I got the umbrellas,
and a couple of other things. There was a makeup stall, and being sort of a
junkie, I poked around. I was a bit wary about their goods—v-neck shirts for
P50 and watches for P25? I wonder what these things were made out of… But there
were some worthy deals in other stalls, like a battery-less LED pocket
flashlight for P50. Got a couple thinking they would come handy during a
brownout or while fishing for my keys in the dark. Or a zombie apocalypse.
Moving on–the trip home wasn’t as eventful, except that I paid less fare,
for a stop that was earlier than my intended stop. (Oops.) But heh, I was glad
I got home in one piece, with all my stuff and my money intact. I hope this post
doesn’t discourage people from going to Divisoria. I still maintain that it’s a
great place to shop, especially if you plan to source things there. Maybe just
don’t go alone on your first time, and don’t go too late like I did, because it
can get scary if you’re a Divi-rgin (You see what I did there?). It doesn’t
hurt to be cautious, especially in times like these.
It’s kind of shallow, I know. Some people go to Divi every month, every
week, every day. Some people live in Divi, not because they actually want to
but they have to, to work there. But like I said, these are the moments when I
do feel sheltered still, despite knowing that I don’t have a life as privileged
or restricted as some people I know.
But hey, at least I got through it, and I now know better. Another lesson
learned, right?
Photos from various blogs
on the net. I just used Google images because I don’t think bringing a digital
camera to Divisoria is a good idea.
xo,
Jack
