Jeepneys express Filipino machismo and local culture.
Like three-wheeler autos in India, jeepneys are the undisputed kings — should we say devils? — of Philippine roads. Being the cheapest, these open-sided minivans, originally cloned from US military Jeeps left over from the Second World War, are the most popular public transport in its cities, and at peak hours in downtown Manila, they could be mistaken for an invading army let loose to overwhelm everything in sight.
But, while Manilans adore the jeepney as a folk icon, with its jazzy exteriors, flashy decorations, and friendly service, the authorities hate it, not because they don’t see its value, but because they simply can’t keep it under control. There are some 500,000 jeepneys on Manila’s roads, half of them illegal. They’ve no respect for rules or assigned routes. They slow down traffic, stop wherever they please, park at their whim, and, as diesel guzzlers, are the biggest polluters of the air in Metro Manila. Strict emission standards, enforced since 2000, haven’t helped much. Efforts to keep these bugs off major roads have only worsened congestion elsewhere.
Jeepneys came into being at a time when Filipinos had little by way of public transport and became an instant hit. They were like a natural progression from the horse-drawn calesas. Buses were few, infrequent, and limited. Times were slower and more affordable. Since then, buses have spread their networks and grown in numbers. Light railways have appeared as quick, efficient, comfortable people movers. A metro rail transit passes through some of Manila’s densest areas and is being extended. Such initiatives are bound to spread as passenger volumes increase and the need for quick, long-distance commuting grows. The authorities hope this will keep the jeepney population from growing further, and may even reduce it.
But nobody expects the jeepney to disappear altogether, or even significantly, any time soon, being so much a part of the local culture. Around 70 per cent of Manila commuters still use the jeepney to go about their business. So, the immediate goal is to clean it up as much as one can and make it less evil. Conversion to gas is an essential strategy and owners are offered interest-free loans to effect the change, but it’s the electric jeepney, or e-jeepney as it’s commonly called, that’s grabbing all the attention, and the headlines.
Last July, four e-jeepneys started servicing selected routes in Makati, Metro Manila’s business hub, a year after two Chinese-made prototypes had been first put on trial. Now at least 15 Philippine cities, including Cebu, Puerto Princesa, Bacolod, and Baguio, are keen to have them. Makati itself has decided to acquire seven more e-jeepneys by December and might end up having 50 in a year’s time. This number may not count for much, but it’s the idea of a clean vehicle, which is significantly cheaper to run, that has captured people’s imagination in the face of high fuel prices and fares.
The Makati e-jeepneys, able to carry 16 passengers each, are operated by 12 batteries, which can be charged overnight from any 220-volt electrical socket. A single six-to-eight-hour charge costs just about 150 pesos and lasts 100 km at 40 km an hour. Thus, the operating cost is no more than one or two pesos per kilometre, which means fares would also be cheaper.
However, even the e-jeepney doesn’t deviate too much from tradition. These new vehicles don’t have a front hood with miniature winged horses fixed on them, but have the same open sides as the traditional jeepneys and almost the same garish swathes of body colour in red, blue, green, and yellow and others in between. There are no waterfalls, trees, birds, or flowers painted on, but one can be sure they will soon be.
Somehow, Filipinos love the chaotic beauty of their jeepneys — winged horses, arrays of horns, multicoloured reflectors that exist for no reason, the altar of the Santo Nino on the dashboard decked with sampaguita garlands, the squeeze and the shoves inside, on two facing benches, as passengers jump in or jump off, the giggles and laughs, loud gossips, and sighs laced with frustrated ‘Ai Nako’s.
The cult is too strong. One jeepney-lover wrote in a recent blog: “Perhaps the most interesting thing that could happen inside a jeepney, besides waiting for long hours during traffic or muttering curses under your breath, is when your legs get too close with another’s. There are some who prefer showing their smooth bare legs while others choose to hide theirs.”
Then there are the slogans. That’s the best part. These are usually painted at the back. They could be the simple “Watch Your Step” or the more teasing “Halina, Baby” (Let’s Go, Baby), or “Welcome Chicks,” or “Wow Legs,” or “Chick Carriers.” Some boast of being “Chick Mechanics”. Filipino machismo couldn’t find a better, and cheekier, expression.
