“Tatlo Pa! Tatlo Pa!” There are already 11 people on the jeepney, but the driver is convinced that he can fit three more. Reluctantly we pull our bags and our children farther into our laps. I move forward on my seat a little as a lady I’ve never seen before sits down nearly in my lap. There simply isn’t room for all of our hips to fit side by side on the bench, so some move forward and others back as people continue to pile in. Finally the driver is satisfied that he has a full load. We hang on as best we can as the driver lets the clutch out and the jeepney lurches out onto on of the busiest streets of Manila. The street is as filled with jeepneys, taxi’s and cars as our jeepney is with people and we weave in and out through diesel exhaust, pedestrians and traffic. As we near our apartment, the driver moves over to the left lane and picks up speed. Quickly I try to get his attention, worried that he will pass our stop. “Para po” I say, then again a little louder as I realize that he can’t hear me over the horns and engine noise surrounding us. Finally he gets the message and I grab for bar above my head as he slams on the brake, honking his horn (a crazy laughing sound, not the normal “beeeep” that I expect to hear) and changing lanes all at the same time. Amazingly, he has managed to stop right across from the entrance to our apartment complex and we hurry toward the back, trying not to step on peoples feet or hit them with our bags. We stumble out of the back of the Jeepney and take advantage of the small traffic jam our stop has made to hurry across the first two lanes of traffic. We wait on the yellow line as traffic whizzes past on either side. Finally there is a break in the traffic – not enough to get across, but enough that the oncoming traffic has time to stop. I hold out my hand as we step into the traffic lane and the oncoming traffic slows to a stop. I step past a truck that has stopped for us, then jump back quickly as a motorcycle cruises past the stopped traffic on the right hand side. A little more cautiously this time, I check for oncoming motorcycles, then lead my family through the gate to our apartment complex. “Magandang umaga po” calls a guard from the guard shack. We reply “Magangang umaga rin po” as we continue to the elevator that will take us back to our cozy ninth floor apartment.
People People People!!! For us, the greatest culture shock has not been Filipino culture as much as big city culture. We moved from a ranch where the nearest town had only 1,000 people, to Metro Manila, Population 11,000,000! We dream of trees, green grass and clean, smog free air, but it is so wonderful to be where God wants us. We are five weeks into language school and (in theory) should be able to recognize close to 600 words now. We start grammar classes next week, and our schedule will get very busy. I will be spending eight hours a day learning language and Candy will be spending at least six hours. Pray that we will be able to retain and use the vocabulary that we are learning, and that God will bring more opportunities to build relationships with Filipinos.