Gridlock

Two Saturdays ago - December 3, if memory serves - I was caught in the carmageddon that gripped the north-eastern part of Metro Manila. I consider myself one of the luckier ones since I didn't have a long way to travel, but it was still pretty bad considering that normally, it wouldn't have taken me that much time to make my trip. It was incredibly frustrating and inconvenient, and it was a good indicator of how much needs to be fixed in the metro's traffic infrastructure.

I was at a bar in the  eastern tip of Quezon City's South Triangle area at the time, fresh off a benefit gig for a fellow music maker in the industry. I thought the night was going to go the way it usually did: go to the gig, play our set, hobnob a bit, have a few drinks, then go home and call it a day. It started out almost that way, when I was able to make my way to the venue with no trouble at all. I was able to see reports about the traffic on social media, but it was nothing I wasn't used to seeing, so I paid it no mind.

The first indicator that something was amiss was when my band's drummer texted maybe thirty minutes before our timeslot that he was stuck in the Cainta section of Ortigas extension. He sent a picture from the driver's seat, and it showed a sea of brake lights as far as the road stretched in front of him. 

"Cainta," said our frontman in disgust. "That's a ways away."

We had to start our set without him. Luckily, he arrived just in the nick of time, coming in exactly during the first song of our set. The rest of our songs proceeded normally, and I can safely say the people watching us had a pretty decent time. We hung out a bit with the event's executive producer, watching a few of the other bands, joining in on the festivities, and raising a good bucket for the benefit. Close to midnight, we decided to head on out. I told the other guys to go on ahead, since I still needed to get a ride. Little did I know that this was going to be my undoing.

I sat on my seat some thirty minutes, waiting for somebody, anybody to accept my ride request. That was a waste of effort, though, since nobody really picked up. I decided to get up and walk to an area closer to Tomas Morato, a section of the city that I thought would be more Grab driver friendly. I was wrong; a thirty minute walk with a bass in tow later, I sat at the 7-Eleven of a random condo along Esteban Abada, nursing a Gatorade Gulp, trying in vain to get a ride.

All told, I was able to get myself home by 4AM, nearly four hours after I started looking for a ride. 

Apparently, the entirety of Sumulong (or was it Marcos?) Highway was a parking lot that night. Several bottlenecks throughout the thoroughfare meant that more and more people were stuck on the road north and east of EDSA for the night. I imagine the traffic spilled over to Ortigas extension, and I can't help but feel some sympathy for all of the drivers who had no other choice but to navigate their way back into Rizal via these highways. 

As for me, upon getting home, I heated a meal of ginisang togue and brown rice, drank a tall glass of cold water, and called it a day. I hate commuting during Christmas in Manila.