Photos by Gabriel Maramba and Reily Garcia

‍

Last May, the Metro Manila Development Authority (MMDA) boarded up sections underneath the Katipunan overpass—long since occupied by local Jeepney drivers—to make space for their brand new rehabilitation project. At present, Katipunan drivers continue to adapt to this displacement by keeping on top of high parking fees, rising diesel prices, and diminishing space to park and have room of one’s own after a long day. 

Last year, the construction of Torre Lorenzo’s West Tower and Gallery also moved the Rosa Alvero tricycle bay closer to Katipunan Avenue, away from the trees that have now been cut down. There they remain, at the side of a tutoring center, with a mini tiyangge right next to it as their only shelter.

These corporation-led infrastructural projects, together with their expansion into already established areas, question who has the right to claim these spaces. The targeting of transportation bays especially sends a message to the Public Utility Vehicle (PUV) drivers that their place is something ephemeral and movable, without permanence.

The MMDA phrases their project as “rehabilitating” and “beautifying.” Torre Lorenzo advertises “elevated living” for prospective residents of their soon-to-come Gallery building. The imposition of these “development” plans displaces the values used to justify these onto newer, pristine, unlocalized edifices; that which is not built up or imbued with the stories that used to fill the transportation bay space now boarded up, the trees that have now been cut down.

But taking a ride in our PUVs and conversing with the drivers makes it very apparent to the local Katipunero that beauty does in fact exist in this place. These PUVs perhaps stand as one of the few remaining capsules of localized, community-built beauty that are undisplaceable, for they are always in motion. You cannot displace further that which has found its place in movement. If this is the space our local drivers find themselves in, then we must move with them. 

This set of photographs includes direct quotations from the short interviews I’ve had with our local PUV drivers, which alone back up my observations:

‍

Kuya Eric has been a tricycle driver for 30 years. Within that time, he has developed an interest in arts and crafts. He makes plants out of plastic bottles and engraved a mirror with handmade stickers on his tricycle spelling out his wife’s name, Liezel. He reminds you not to handle the plant so roughly, as it breaks easily. In the top right corner of the photo, he drew a flower.

‍

63-year-old Kuya Doming has been driving a jeepney for at least 20 years. He bought a banner from local artisans embroidered with the phrase “GOD BLESS US,” serving as a piece that can provide calm to the minds of not only his commuting passengers, but to his own. He travelled from Pangasinan in order to make a living for his family. To the left of his wife’s bag, he displays an illustration of his passengers, drawn from his point of view.

‍

Kuya Gury has been in Loyola Heights for 25 years now. He also displays a plant and hangs up things his passengers have accidentally left behind so that, in case they wind up in the same trike, they can reclaim what’s theirs. He does all this while driving a trike he doesn’t own himself. Even with the added rental fee substantially reducing his everyday income, Kuya Gury sees the importance of making a place for yourself in a world where it is hard to do so. In the lower left corner, he drew a stickman. 

‍

Kuya Dexter has been driving for 19 years. He struggles with the traffic on Katipunan Avenue and the drama that comes with working as a Jeepney driver. It is his friendships with fellow drivers that he values most. Above the mirror is a left-behind bracelet. In this jeepney, there is a place for the lost. He was unable to sketch anything as he was in a rush to get moving.

Gabriel Maramba is a student writer, photographer, and activist based in Quezon City. You can catch him walking around Estaban Abada in flipflops, laptop at his side.