The Price of Punctuality

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Early mornings of the school week often begin with a knock on the door, followed by a line you and I can both quote “Ma’am/Sir, sorry I’m late”. However, it does not always play out like this because some classrooms are inevitably locked from the inside. Once you are late, you are late for everything–so even if absence sounds like the worst option, it is still better on paper than making the bad choice to simply be tardy.

This is a kind of hopelessness that students who commute know by heart–a practical application of nihilism when the circumstances really deem it pointless, especially for those who truly did try. But this is not a defense, nor a take on validating the ace of excuse cards. I’m just afraid that “Ma’am/Sir, sorry I’m late” is still underplayed for what it could really mean.

It should be basic understanding by now that our everyday obstacle is traffic; we’re always wrestling with the clock of Filipino time. But even within traffic, lie numerous situational variables. Social consciousness acknowledges that when an outcome can be affected by various factors, there are always layers to understand before reaching the core intention.

Ironically, in the worst commuting scenarios, courtesy can mean giving oneself the shorter end of the stick just to make everyone’s transportation ends meet. A study on modern Filipino commuting culture, particularly within the Manila traffic crisis, titled “Emerging from the ‘worst’”, brushes on Filipino values such as patience, crab mentality, and misused resilience.

When strangers brush each other’s elbows, desperately trying to maintain the border between being civil and being sardines, prejudice in the jeepney can brew anytime. This is more so evident if an ID lace reveals an “Iskolar ng Bayan”. One might only wear it for fare purposes, nevertheless it changes everything from being an ordinary passenger to being everyone’s passenger.

The transportation crisis lives up to its name. It doesn’t just touch one aspect of experience or a particular demographic; instead, it encompasses everyone and everything—liifestyle, wellbeing, desires, and decisions. Students who commute daily contribute to the regulation of the microcosm of Filipino society. From departure to travel and the time of arrival, the real metric system is exhaustion.

They say life is the actual classroom, yet systemic layers of struggle within supposedly mundane human activities prevent efficient function–like a rage room. When students cannot show up in class, they have to show up for the driver to keep driving. They have to show up to pass the change. They have to show up to give a fraction of their seat, “upong otso” minus three. They have to show up so the other passenger does not have to be the last.

“Ma’am/Sir, sorry I’m late”.

But maybe because they tried their best. [F]

via Angel Iwag, Staff Writer