Ka-Blog!

Where we waited to flag down a minibus or
jeepney to take us to Tuguegarao, I remember, was a waiting shed that did not
allow us to see vehicles coming. It was
(and still is) idiotically placed at the deep part of a sweeping bend. We always had our ears cocked to the sound of
an approaching vehicle and when we hear something we crane our necks to see if
it was a public transport.
       It
was this curious audile practice that first got me interested in cars. And when I think which engine sound I liked
best, it can only be the venerable VW Beetle. I mean, who could mistake the distinct sound it makes? Plus, it has the most unique of shapes that
always made me jump up and point with unabashed glee whenever one passed
by.
      I
know I was not the only who got so enamoured by it. My friend Jayvee Benedicto owns a 1962 lovely
that he raced against me one late and inebriated night along Libis. My dear uncle Humberto Bauza loved his dull
red Beetle more than his books, which is saying quite a lot.  (Never mind the fact that it was Adolf Hitler who ordered Porsche to design and manufacture it. Even tyrants know a thing or two about beauty and functionality.  Look at Imelda.)
      When
I was still a kid, VW introduced an ugly sibling to the Beetle. I forgot its name now but it had no window
glass and curves whatsoever. Puro kanto. I still see one or two of those running in
the provinces but that model proved to be not as popular nor as enduring as the
world’s most popular car. Me, I
loved it as well. It had the same engine
sound. Plus, what’s not to love about a
car that took pride in being the ugliest in history? I can only compare it to the late great Rene
Requiestas whose butt-faced ugliness only complimented his formidable thespian
skills.
     As
a tyke, my Uncle Zoilo was my favorite driver. I called him Paspas Driver. He owned a Ford Escort, then the winningest
rally car in the international circuit. Sadly, it went up in flames when a moron of a welder worked very close
to its fuel tank.
      The
car that I think was the most popular on Philippine streets was the Isuzu
Gemini (relative to the number of cars running around in its heyday). Absolutely all taxis in the early 80s were
“Gemi”. It was noisy, cramped and, in
the days before air-conditioned taxis, hot. But it was the only diesel-powered car poor kids like me had the chance
of riding. Then, as now, diesel-powered
MBs and BMWs were only for the privileged in this semi-colonial, semi-feudal
social set up we have.
      When
I was attending college, a rich kid drove a Chevy BelAir to school. It had a condensada
yellow paint trimmed with evaporada white
which looked gorgeous on its Batman wings. It was chromed tastefully too. Hindi bastos like those on
MTVs “Pimp My Ride”. Even today’s
spoiler-burdened cars could not hold a candle to it. In the few times when rich classmates would
invite me to cruise around with them at the then drag race central of
Greenhills, there I would see the BelAir regally rolling and drawing all the
attention to itself. However souped-up
the Corollas, Sentras and the Lancers were, there simply was no better babe
magnet on the horizon then.
     Yeah. I loved cars so much when I was a kid and
when I was growing up. But being a son
of a lowly and honest civil servant, there was simply no way I could be given a
key to even just a second-hand car by my father. Like the great majority of poor boys, happy na ako sa aking iilang pirasong Matchboxes.
     When
I became an activist, I pretty much gave up on owning a car. Full-time tibaks
are not supposed to have any earning capacity, right? Yet, lo and behold, another activist
virtually gave away the junk rotting in front of his house to me in 2001. Hence, my first and only car. (See my earlier entry “Batik” somewhere
below.)
     I
love this car. Even in the very remote
possibility of me being able to afford another one soon (not necessarily a
brand new set of wheels) I could not bear the thought of parting with this
one. It’s a keeper.
    Today
however I still dream of owning a new car. I have an eye on several, actually.
    While I will be
keeping Batik as long as its is still being held up by its flaking paint and
rust, it would do me well to drive a fuel miser of a subcompact in this age of
privatized oil industry. A Kia
Picanto? A Honda Jazz or City? A Toyota Vios? A Hyundai
Getz? A Suzuki Swift? Heck! Even a ‘matic 600-cc Norkis Legacy double crew cab
or a Suzuki Bravo (Super Carry) would do.
    Nangangarap na lang din naman, hindi masamang magkaroon ako ng all-wheel drive sa hinaharap. But I abhor those American-sized SUVs. Any Suzuki would be just fine, thank
you. The bantam-sized Suzukis are
perfect for our narrow and perennially choked streets and my perennially
shallow pockets. A Jimny should be fun
to drive, ‘no?
     Next, I dream of owning an Aston
Martin for no other reason but its being the best car out there, bar none.
    But I am not
holding my breath.