What drives us

The rain was relentless that night. Crowds were packed under the fly-over on the intersection of Katipunan and Marcos Highway. It was almost 7:00 pm and my friend and I had not been able to find a jeepney with space for even just one of us. We must have spent an hour waiting, holding and pointing our umbrellas to the left where the rain was getting under the bridge. Our bags were heavy with laptops, notebooks, papers. It was especially hard for my friend who was also carrying another set of clothes and toiletries. I could feel my shoulder protest in lingering pain as I pull my friend along. I tell my friend to get in the nearby jeep even though its route was not towards my house. I make sure my friend’s seated inside while I latch myself at the back, hanging on for dear life while the jeep thunders along Marcos Highway in the pouring rain. Eventually, after some creative re-thinking of our commute, we reach our house. I turned to my friend, face red with embarrassment, and told her, “I’m sorry. That won’t happen again I promise.”

That was probably the most embarrassing and powerless feeling I’ve had. That was no way to bring a girl to your house. Drenched in rain, sweat, and absolutely exhausted. This is what pushed me to get a license and ask my dad for one of his cars. It’s a privilege that I should have exploited a long time ago. You might call me an over-privileged kid, but an opportunity is an opportunity and I wanted to take it. I also know for a fact that I am not alone in desiring a car.

It's no secret that Filipinos love cars. One quick glance of EDSA and it really reveals just how much we adore cars in general. Our streets are filled with cars parked in front of houses, establishments, schools, and even churches. Name the place and it probably has a car parked nearby. But why all this much love for cars? Filipinos have many reasons for wanting to own and drive a car

It could be that you find our public transportation system poor. Who could blame you? The jeepneys are either smoke belching or delapidated, the tricycles are limited to small streets, the trains are always breaking down, Grab and Uber are being castrated by the government, the taxis are overpricing, and the buses have limited routes. By the time you've reached work, most likely late, you're already covered in smoke, dirt, and the drool of the passenger who slept on your shoulder.

It might be because you have a family and relatives that regularly goes out together. It's impractical to hire multiple cabs or to take jeepneys to shuttle a large family between locations. Hence why 7-seater vehicles and vans are popular among Filipinos. Everywhere you go, private Toyota Hiaces, Fortuners, Monteros, BR-Vs are the norm. Anything with 7 seats or more is a must for the Filipino household.

One might view car ownership as a sign of prestige. A car affords you the luxury of a personal cocoon with A/C, your own music, and arriving as fresh as you left the house. Cars are fashion statements too. So you cherish every "Aba ganda ng kotse ah" and "Uy pasakay naman". If you're a guy, it's an asset for picking up girls. If you're a girl, guys everywhere would be crushing on you (especially if you drive a manual). Having a car is also statement of financial prowess. It is, after all, an expensive, lifelong commitment. People are able to tell someone's financial status by the sort of car they drive and how many they have parked in front of their house.

On the other end of the spectrum, there are car owners who make a living out of driving. Taxis are very much alive and present on our streets no matter how much anyone says they overprice worse than a five star hotel. TNVS companies such as Uber and Grab have enabled everyday motorists to earn extra income by letting them use their cars to take commuters much like how taxis do but with the convenience of an app. In such ways, the car becomes not only a tool for the family, but an instrument of financial empowerment. 

Then there are Filipinos like me who have grown to love driving. Not all who hold a license love to drive. Many find it tiring after a while and can't wait to get out of the car as soon as they arrive home. But for me and many others, the feeling of driving fast (but safe), taking on a corner beautifully, and enjoying the feeling of how a car handles is so much fun. Whenever I find myself on a winding, asphalted, provincial road, I cannot help but put on my driving music and drive just a tiny bit faster.

But these can all be summed up to just one word: freedom.

Ultimately, the Filipino motorist has, in his or her heart, the desire to quite literally be behind the wheel. To be in control of where you want to go, when you want to go, and to take with you the people you care about. We love the car because it empowers us. It liberates us from poor public transportation. It gives us the anytime anywhere sensation to go to places. It's given us pride and joy experienced only by those who can see beyond cost of ownership and see the car for what it truly is: a tool for liberation.

For this 22 year old college kid, it's the same. Two years of having a license and driving inside and outside Metro Manila has been nothing but rewarding. The car has taken me to all sorts of places Luzon has to offer. The far reaches of Laguna, the western shores up to Vigan, the remote beaches of Baler, these are all amazing places and the drives there were just as good. Even just driving around inside and around the metro has made an otherwise regrettable commute into something enjoyable.

 Aside from the places traveled to, the car itself is a place of irreplaceable memories. 

The car has been a place where I've eaten great food, slept when I was too tired to go home, cried when I wanted to cry alone, and laughed when I had the company of the best friends I could ask for. Even way back before I was driving, the travels my family and I had are unforgettable memories I hold dear. I know I'm right in saying that the car is one of the most emotional places for me. 

So the car isn't just some middle-class privilege as some might say. It's as valuable as a house, or a wedding ring could be. 

Still need proof? The friend in the story at the beginning of this post is now my girlfriend. Guess where I popped the question.