They’d rather endure the cold, the snow, the rain; the many risks along the slippery road; the wait and all the discomforts that come with being a commuter. When told to transfer to another bus because the one they’re in has just been ordered to short turn, the situation turns from bad to worse.
From my experience, a bus making a short turn means skirting a scheduled route and turning back somewhere along the path, forcing dozens of passengers to get off and wait for another bus that would continue the journey.
Buses run on a timeline and most often on TTC (Toronto Transit Commission), they are late because of a host of factors that may include a traffic jam, an accident, and weather. It’s perhaps for these same reasons that buses, two or three of them, come tailing each other to a bus stop.
Sometimes, I am reminded of Manila almost 20 years ago where buses competed for space and passengers and rushed to their destinations in the shortest time possible without regard to posted speed limits. I remember setting aside the commute – more than one hour – from Pasay City to Diliman to read and prepare for the day’s lessons.
The easiest to compare Toronto’s short turns is with Manila’s so-called “cutting trips” mostly by jeepney drivers who are lured to discontinue plying an assigned route in favor of moving to another where there are more passengers. This could be the same practice here except that it is officially sanctioned, thus the less abrasive term.
The commuters who complained the loudest against this apparent whimsical decision to order a bus to turn back and abandon its scheduled route were of mixed races and yet nearly half of the passengers, including myself, were Filipinos, most of them women.
And so when the driver announced he was doing a short turn – meaning passengers had to exit and wait for another bus, unless the destination still falls within the next stop he was turning to – the Filipinos merely shrugged it off without as much as a meaningful protest.
The first short turn, for me, was at the No Frills stop near the intersection of Wilson Ave. and Bathurst. That two buses tailed this bus I was in eased my discomfort because I didn’t have to waste time waiting for another that would continue to ply the route.
There were commotions, however, from other passengers. Later I learned that they’ve been previously transferred. Where? I didn’t ask. The biting cold (on Sunday, March 4, a cold alert was issued by the City of Toronto) was no match to the bright sun and I was in a hurry to get into the bus.
At least a dozen-and-a-half Filipinos, in groups of threes and fives, were among those in this bus, which is not a rarity on weekends. In fact, on Saturdays and Sundays, every single bus that services the Bathurst north-south corridor from Steeles to Bathurst station and back is half-filled with Filipinos, usually church goers who trek to the Our Lady of Assumption, a Catholic church ministered by Filipino priests.
A weekend is one occasion where one really gets a feel of being Filipino in the huge number of train and bus commuters all over Toronto. Lately, Filipinos have also become talkative. Without meaning to listen to their cell phone chat, one can readily tell how diverse the Filipino community is in the way of communications in different dialects.
Within the confines of the bus, at least three Philippine dialects stand out – Tagalog, Ilocano and Ilonggo. One Sunday on my way to downtown, I recorded the market-like chatter on my digital recorder for about three minutes, hoping it would become handy as a sound track in one of my videos about Toronto’s visible minority.
What I’m saying is that Filipinos could be articulate and outspoken, especially within their group, among their peers and with their families. I was hoping this would translate to something outwardly bigger, something that would uplift their standing among the minorities here.
In the bus, for example, they kept quiet; their conversations reduced to a murmur after the driver of this second bus announced he was also short turning. In the meantime, the non-Filipinos were verbalizing their displeasure at being literally dumped again at a bus stop a few hundred meters to its final destination.
The Filipinos took notice when I brought out my camera from my backpack. I asked them if they’re willing to talk about their frustrations on camera so I could broadcast it on You Tube. That way, I told them, the authorities at Toronto Transit Commission would know how commuters feel about short turns.
“Huwag na lang kuya,” was the instant reply. Another said that because the driver was Filipino, “pabayaan na lang natin”.
I had to explain that it wasn’t about the driver regardless of his ethnicity. It is that we’re railing against this practice of short turns that impact commuters who are left stranded for hours in the cold and rain.
It was quite disappointing to say the least. Why can’t Filipinos empower themselves and be more assertive like the non-Filipinos who expressed their disgust at the system, I asked myself. What’s stopping us from speaking out?
I’ve witnessed many situations like that in the last two years of commuting by train and bus to my media coverages.
Quite a number of these instances involved Filipino women yielding their seats to white people who looked far stronger than they are who don’t even know how to say thanks. I say this in the spirit of open discussion. My statement should not be construed in any way as racist.
Of course, Filipinos are gracious. Gracious to a fault.
An elderly Filipina in this same bus told me she was disheartened that many Filipinos lower themselves by saying “ma’am” or “sir” to the person given their seats. I also notice that myself.
A few times I’d ask why they readily yield their seats when it’s uncalled for. And they would just smile. For me, I thought it was so way out of courtesy to feel inferior in such a multi-ethnic setting as in a bus or train.
Well, it’ll be a long time to see ourselves as co-equals if there’s hardly any attempt to empower ourselves. #