Coming Home

I just got back from a foreign assignment, which got extended for almost a year. I witnessed all four British seasons, yet none of them made any of my winter apparel easily dispensable. I had been looking forward to coming and staying home, and seeing my family, relatives and friends. They are the very people who always make parting a bit painful and coming home always something to look forward to. My excitement was almost difficult to bear when I learned that my fly home date was definite.

Finally I was on a flight bound for Manila. Looking down from the plane, Metro Manila glittered with thousand lights. For a moment I was oblivious to the heavy traffic and to the pollution that the metropolis was notorious for. When the plane touched down at the Ninoy Aquino International Airport, I was engulfed by a stronger sense of excitement. I was ecstatic at the prospect of seeing how the country had changed since I left.

Except for a cousin and few officemates, I practically told no one that I was coming home. As no one was there to pick me up, I had to take a cab. I was escorted out of the building by a security guard and he pointed me to a small office where I could arrange for my transfer. I was surprised to learn that the fare going to Makati was nearly half what it was several months before. What was more surprising was the absence of barkers who would coerce passengers to avail of their service. The staff explained that the President mandated the scheme. Not long ago, passengers arriving at the NAIA had to rent trolley carts for US$1 each. When Mrs. Arroyo stepped into office, she rightfully abolished the absurdity. I was impressed at the progressive developments that were obviously shaping the historic airport.

I was almost ready to be generous with my praises when suddenly the cab made an unexpected U-turn. The driver informed me that although arrangements were made from the office at the airport, payment had to be made from the cashier that services different cab operators. The cashier was located almost clandestinely near the flyover along the Sucat highway. I handed the payment to the cashier and I expected 125 pesos to be returned to me. As if miscalculating my payment, the cashier handed me only 120 pesos and hurriedly got back to her paper work. She was obviously just acting out to collect extra cash for herself. Regardless of the amount, I thought what she did was wrong and should not be tolerated. Therefore I demanded for the remaining amount and the cashier apologetically handed it to me asking, “kulang po pala, Sir?” I could only chuckle in disbelief. Take out the evil weed and you can bet that it grows quite quickly some place else.

As if sensing my disappointment, the driver started to talk about our political situation as he drove the cab. The topic did not serve much to uplift me, but my interest was roused by what the driver had to say. Just like everyone else, he was practically fed up with politicians advancing their individual causes, but mindless of the nation’s arrested development. His view embodies what seemed to me is the collective consciousness of today’s Pinoy. Indeed it is tiring to witness political showdowns day after day. The branches of the government have virtually turned into primetime soap operas with a powerhouse cast. The only obvious difference is that everyone seems to be the villain and a happy ending is nowhere in sight. I find it unfortunate that we have no one in the government that we can call a statesman. Everyone is just another distasteful politician. The likes of Jovito Salonga and Ninoy Aquino could very well make a difference these days.

The ride took faster than I expected. I soon found myself standing in front of my condominium. The humid air was familiar. The balut vendor at the other side of the street cursed as a car sped past him. From afar, the skyscrapers of Makati towered with pride like monuments to demigods.

I quickly said a prayer of thanksgiving for a safe journey. As I clutched my keys, it dawned on me – I am home, and things have pretty much remained the same.