To the left, to the right, to move forward. Browsing for the most affordable school bag is not that easy. I found it hard to really know what I like and what I am looking for. I am way too choosy and fuzzy and nothing is good. Nothing seemed too perfect for my stuff. I was looking for a shoulder bag that can carry my school supplies, important paraphernalia, books and notebooks, my wallet and other miscellaneous items. I want something that is easy to handle, carry and most of all easy access of stuff right from the pockets of that messenger bag.
I roamed and travelled from Makati city and browsed to shop at the mega malls, arcades, small boutiques but hopelessly didn't get the result that I want. My friend cousin who was with me at that time didn't feel annoyed nor angry about my being so fuzzy about just one thing > looking for that bag that I wished to see and hopefully to buy if I found the right one. Not contented in Makati, we travelled to Baclaran and browsed to the many open bazaars but no, there is nothing that really suits my taste. From Baclaran to Quezon City to Fairview? I end up buying shoes or clothes instead at SM. The bag that I like to have? There is none. Nothing that really can satisfy my taste. So the search was over on that hot Saturday. Good that it was Saturday no class, no school. The entire day was just for that finding the right bag.
Comes Monday, after school my classmate and I tried to walk along the Quiapo area, under the bridge where the Filipiniana section is located. Many native Filipino handmade crafts are on display and still I cannot find what I really like. Then across the Quinta market, beside a handicraft store which I ushered my friend that we should try our luck inside that shop maybe they have it. Then suddenly an older woman grabbed our hands. The street was busy with too many shoppers and vendors back and forth the walkway, the sidewalk and hustling and bustling sound of peddlers and the honking of many vehicles and pedicabs stranded on the road my goodness it was chaotic. The noise is absolutely irritating plus the smoke belching cabs, buses and jeepneys. The pollution is rampant. My friend tried to get away from the old woman, we tried to avoid her. "Come over here,"she said to us. "Please try my special pancit palabok, as she ushered us inside the market where too many small stalls built like a food court and the vendors-cook are keeping their customers by their hands and arms to have lunch at their food stalls. It was almost by force. She didn't let us go until we sit down on the long bench and the pancit palabok was offered on the counter. Both of us are nervous and we just stared at each other and asked ourselves do we need to have this meal? Anyway, with the old woman's persuasion we ate the palabok. It was good. It was special indeed. The old woman was proud to say that it was the best pancit Malabon and she was the best cook in that open market. Of course we paid for the meal. You think it's free?
What happened next is of course the bag was forgotten. I have to use my old bag that I bought from last year's from Cartimar that can carry my wallet, my coin purse, my notebook, pad paper, my ballpen, my tech pens, ruler, pencil, hair brush, candies (halls and chiclet o juicy fruit gum) my toothbrush and colgate, my baby powder (yeah I consider myself like a baby) my avon Forest interlude roll on cologne, my books: Psychology and Economics books either I have one book inside the bag or carry the other hard bound book with my left hand.
Why I'm into that kind of abnormally searching for something that I can't find? I don't know. What I have in mind got nothing to do with other people's mind. The bag that I was looking for that time is a messenger bag that is affordable, easy to carry and handle and comfortable enough for me to walk and run from one building to another because my class schedule has no extra gap for me to rest or even think. College life is when you have to be like a super human machine wherein you have to think like superman having extra vision and a cape to fly. That you can just fly from one room to the next room but to another building which is situated miles apart. elevators don't help either that you have to run from the concrete stairs going up to the 4th floor or to the 6th floor of those buildings and you end up almost breathless. So glad that I was still alive when I get there on my seat right on time or the doors will close down on me.
Not enough? waiting for the bus, jeepneys and pedicab or tricycle is also a hassle. You end up waiting for hours and hours. Millions of people waiting for the vehicles to arrive can make your eyes red. The smoke from air pollution and the many scents here there and everywhere could suffocate your well being. That's everyday life in Philippines, rain or shine people are waiting for drastic change. By the time you arrive at school or at the workplace? You're late! I woke up at 4:00 AM and end up late at 7:30 AM Sociology class.
What I did the next time? I was running after the jeepneys on the road together with other guys wanting to get in the jeep. Know what ? Too many witnessed what I did and some of them were schoolmates from High School and they thought that was hilarious.
It was funny they thought to themselves. They felt like seeing "bionic woman" running steadily fast almost like a stealth. The music please. .. I was a fighter. I changed my style of clothing feeling like a man. It was a tough world out there and I want to be strong and tough. That I can use my hands and arms for grabbing the door handle and my legs to stand straight and get in to that rushing jeep and bus so that I can finally tell my Sociology professor that I tried to be in her class. So that her sermon everyday will definitely wont hit me in the face when she always claimed in that class that she is always prepared that's why she was there in class before 7 AM.
NOTE: This story ^ my story has nothing to do with Nikki Blonsky'smovie with John Travolta although I like her acting in that musical comedy wherein she was waiting for a ride and she end up riding a truck of some kind. I can relate to that. I had that experience of waiting for the right transportation with the right number and with the stereo that can play my favourite songs, include the disco lights and sounds. So bizarre eh?
