on the road to infanta

On Easter Sunday I decided to go to the market.

My mother-in-law’s house is in a little fishing village with a fantastic beach, and I wanted to go to Infanta, which is two towns away. Its market is huge and the produce is very fresh, and I could fill my laundry basket on a 500-peso budget (as opposed to the same full laundry basket in Cavite at P1,000.00).

I got up at 5:00 am and took pictures of the sun rising in the sea, then started to wait along the highway for an Infanta-bound jeepney by 6:30.

After fifteen minutes the back of my neck was warm with sun, and no jeepney in sight. I started feeling like I had to go to the bathroom, but I had this suspicion that the jeep would pass as soon as I went back to the house. So I waited.

One of my husband’s little nephews soon came to stand by me, and he started to throw pebbles at the highway, where a tricycle or a band of motorcycles would occasionally pass. Twice a group of chickens crossed the road, and how’s that for a joke? I started wanting to throw pebbles too.

After a 45-minute wait, a jeep came along. It was almost full, but you don’t know what a full jeep means in a provincial highway. I boarded, and in the middle of the jeep were two huge sacks of what looked like giant sweet potatoes. There was a spare wheel for the jeep, and assorted boxes and luggages of the passengers. There were about a dozen kids, sleeping on laps and sitting on the sacks. I got wedged between a man who was clutching a basket of pastillas and another who was clutching a bunch of brooms. My feet were up on the sack of sweet potatoes, and my basket was between my legs. My knees were almost to my chin, and the brooms were tickling my right ear. Lesson Number One: Wear a dress on a jeep ride like this, and you're risking a major scandal.

After about a kilometer, the jeep stopped to unload passengers… from the roof. Down they came, men with sacks and some coconuts. They lifted down a dog too, who, with his tongue out and his eyes sparkling, looked like he had the ride of his life. Or maybe he did it everyday.

Then the jeep wouldn’t start. The driver got out to tinker with the engine, and the passengers started to chat. Across me sat two old women who were loudly exchanging notes on raising grandchildren. One of them was wearing blue knee-length pants studded with sequins, and over it a blouse with a riot of Hawaiian flowers. She had dangling earrings. She gestured wildly. She crossed her legs, and I noted that on her feet were orange Havaianas, properly misspelled. Oh, I love funky grandmothers!

Nobody seemed to be in a hurry. It looked like my trip to the market would take me the whole morning, when I could do it in an hour back home. Lesson Number Two: Forget that time is gold. Enjoy the trip since everyone seems to be doing just that.

After a while we moved again, and we reached the first town. Now we really had to stop. The sacks of sweet potatoes would be unloaded. We had already learned that they would be made into camote cue, and that the supply would last a week, and that it was a delivery, meaning the owner wasn’t with us but already waiting for the sweet potatoes since early morning. But since everyone was practically sitting on them, half of the passengers had to get off, along with their luggages, so that the sacks could be pulled out. The other half had to lift their feet even higher (and I thanked God again I was wearing shorts).

Oh, and did I mention that the passengers don’t pay as soon as they board the jeep? They pay the driver when they get off, so we have to wait while the driver counts out the change or, on one occasion, had to dash off to a sari-sari store to exchange smaller bills. And the people continued talking. Some of the women would offer to seat the smaller children on their laps; some were exchanging opinions on the merits of plastic flowers; and the grandmother in the blue sequined pants had progressed to the food she would serve in her house during the Infanta town fiesta the following day. She still had her legs crossed.

I got to Infanta after an hour and 15 minutes, on a trip that took about thirty minutes in a car. Everybody smiled when they got off the jeep. I’ve never had a more interesting time. I was sure I could finish raiding the market in about half an hour, but I was even more sure that I would get back to the house by noon.

And that the trip back would be worth another blog.