I could still remember the first time I did it. My friend, Arrjae, hanged out with me at home that afternoon. Since I was left bored and restless the moment he left, I decided to go to the PNR station in Sta. Mesa hoping to catch the train that would take me to Bicutan so I could visit my grandparents.
My first impression about the Metrotrain is that it's for the masa. Those who cannot afford to ride a decent bus going to Manila, or Sampaloc for that matter takes the PNR train because it is unbelievably cheap if not convienient. However, since the trains were all dilapidated and the route it takes bring you to the deepest poverty pits of the Metropolis, nobody in his right mind takes the train and expect to be fresh and clean when he arrives at his destination.
Besides, the memories of squatter folks throwing their garbage bags, including their human wastes on the passing trains is still deeply imbedded in my mind.
That afternoon, despite second thoughts about taking the train, I decided that I would do it for experience's sake.
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My first train trip was an eye opener.
For the first time in many years, I had a great deal of exposure with the masa. Inside the train, I was rubbing elbows with the factory workers, palengke people, janitors and messengers and security guards. While outside the carriages, you can see different images of people spending their lives in meager existence.
The muddy tracks remind me of how life had treated these people who live by the riles. Yet despite the fact that they live in one of the most dangerous places in the city, it seemed like what they have there is a community. The trains that passes daily inches away from their homes is already a normal part of their lives. The dangers they faced everyday, every hour and every moment those machines started whistling to warn them to get away from the tracks had become part of their routines.
Of course, the flying garbage were not there anymore. Though there were some kids throwing some objects at our windows, I guess their infamousness had faded away after it was reported on TV years before I took my first ride.
Along the riles, one would find homes as big as a German Shepherd's cage. Funerals were being held on the other side of the tracks, while multiple families huddled in the space between the railroad tracks watching their favorite TV shows. Young children would play as the train passes, while occassionally some visitors - from the shanties below would check out the passing train and take a peek at the passengers going elsewhere.
As I catch my breath to observe a life I rarely see, I told myself that maybe a PNR trip would be good for those who have never seen poverty with their own eyes. Here, they would see people and families trying to have an existence in a perilous location. They would find homes in between the two railroad tracks where people who were most unfortunate not to afford a home on the sides of the riles lives. Perhaps these eye-opening reality would make well-off people appreciate what existence had been given to them.
Maybe they would get humbled by the fact that they are enjoying many things those people out there would never enjoy in their lifetime.
---
Time had passed and I found myself riding a train again.
This afternoon, I went to Muntinlupa to attend a funeral in behalf of my mother. When I left the place, I decided to take my chances and ride a train instead so that I would never have to pass Makati and Mandaluyong just to get home.
Good thing, a train coming from Tayuman was about to arrive when I arrived at the station. I had 10 minutes to spare so after I bought my ticket, I decided to have a chat with some of the vendors near the station.
We talked about the trains going to Albay and about the stations that the train passes through going to Naga. We also talked about the future of the PNR and there, a vendor mentioned about the controversial upgrading and restoration of the Metrotren system thanks to the Chinese government.
She said the work is already in progress. In less than a year, the work which they started in Calooocan would eventually reach Alabang. She never mentioned about the demolition, but I've seen them happening in Bulacan and Pampanga just to give way to the tracks again... However, what would I see later along the way is something I am nothing expecting
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The train finally arrived and since Alabang was the last station in the city operations of PNR, the locomotive or engine must detatch itself from the first carriage so that it can move to the last carriage which would now serve as the first one.
The preparations and inspections took at least 15 minutes to complete so that when we left Alabang, it was already past 3:30. If I took the bus instead, I would have reached Makati by the time the train started moving again.
Along the way, I once again saw different people living along the sides of the riles. Still, the small shanty homes were there and the structures at the middle of the two tracks were still intact. It was a typical train trip, except that it was humid, and the smoke coming from the diesel engine enters our open windows.
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However, when we entered the bounderies of Makati, things along the railroad suddenly became less typical and more painful to see.
The once tiny and multiple level shanties were all gone. In its place were debris and ruins left from a recent demolition that happened.
There were some homes that remained, but one can see that those homes who survived the demolition would soon become part of the ruins as well. People you would see in the area were rather collecting up the things they left as the demolition took place. One would see in their faces the grief and pain of loosing one's home and community in the name of progress.
From Makati to Manila, I saw a different kind of riles from the one I saw two years ago. There were no more communities that lined the tracks and the people who you used to see staring at your train as it passes through their homes were no longer there. A ticketman passed by. and in my disbelief, I asked him what happened. He said they were relocated to give way to the expansion that would happen in PNR.
As a person who is constantly threatened of loosing my own home, somehow I felt how is it like being in their position. Imagine loosing the things you were used to seeing everyday in just a snap of one's finger; Imagine seeing strangers tearing down your home with your own eyes, as the memories of staying in that place suddenly floods your thoughts.
Of course, those families were all paid. Perhaps they were even relocated in a much better place, but I doubt if they have the basic amenities in their new community. Knowing how the government promises one thing then breaking them after, I guess those poor folks were abandoned in a place much more worse than what they have left.
In the name of progress, many must sacrifice for the benefit of the few...
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The later parts of the journey were rather boring and uneventful.
I was too much preoccupied by the sadness I felt, while staring at those empty homes and vacant lots that used to be thriving communities along the riles. I know that for many, such change is a sign of relief.
Sabagay nga naman, tingin ng marami sa kanila eh panggulo lamang. Besides, I'm pretty sure that in everybody's opinion, they were much safer out there in the open rather than living dangerously along the riles.
But I doubt if they ever thought how it felt like being uprooted out of your own world... I do not know, for some reasons I felt more sorry to those families being affected by such demolitions.
For all I know, the routines were working perfectly even before the government started casting their eyes in the riles.
---
My plan was to get off at Tutuban Station so that at least I could see the beginning and the end of the PNR line for the first... and probably the last time.
But because of a minor mistake, I thought that the Tutuban Station and the Tayuman station were only a single station, just like what the construction guy I had a conversation with in the train told me.
When I got off at Tayuman station, I could have walked towards the PNR gate and hail a jeep that would take me to SM San Lazaro. But since my mind was already made up, I decided to reach the end of the line even if it means walking inside the PNR property.
So there I was, walking along the tracks in order to reach the end of the line. Around me were old abandoned carriages that were once used during the past decades. It could have been a museum piece if the railway authorities would decide to.
The space inside the complex was wide and open. along the sides, one would see the works being done just to maintain the fleet of trains our railways are using. Since the grass were tall and lushful, herds of goats even converged at a distance.
The air now was more soothing that the one I felt in Alabang. It was far more cooler and breezy now while I walked through the last few grassy meters before the final station. Several minutes after I started my journey from Tayuman, I saw a slab of concrete connected to a tall empty building at the end of the compound.
I arrived at the Tutuban Station.
For the first time after the passing trains in Espana sparked my interest two decades ago, the end and the beginning of the line was finally revealed to me.
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