Reasons to Hate the Commute

#309 Punggok ~ D'Exterminator

One word: Punggok. [1]

I'm not being mean. That's what they're called - those THINGS that attach to Sinauna jeepneys, from God knows where.

Seriously, I wish we could at least know how they get there, so we can learn how to avoid them. But not even the drivers know, apparently.

My sister, with whom I often commute, tells me they're not that annoying. THEY ARE. They move around like monkeys, their long arms and legs clinging to everything. Swinging from the safety handrails and whatnot. And who wouldn't hate to share a small enclosed space with a wild, free-moving monkey?

No, it can't hurt you. A Punggok barely weighs anything. Even if it lands on your face, it'll feel like someone blowing air onto your face.

But it's not about getting hurt. Thing is, you better not wear good clothes when you board a Sinauna jeep with a Punggok in it. God forbid, for example, that you wear a nice white shirt for an important job interview. A Punggok could bounce off you on the way to taking fare from someone on the far end of the jeepney, and you can be sure it'll leave a soot stain.

Good thing it's usually one Punggok per jeepney. I've never heard of any jeepney having two, it seems like they fence their territory as soon as they step in. Can you imagine having more than ONE of those things in a single jeepney?? How can you relax through your commute??

Right - for those who haven't experienced the Punggok yet, they take fares. That's why they love jeepneys: they're close to the ground and open to the elements, so they're easier to sneak into than buses. The truth is, all they're after is the fares.

And no, I can't explain the attraction of fares to you. I wonder about that, myself. Do they not have money where they come from??

The little things are absolutely captivated with cash. You can see their giant pitch-black eyes glowing with glee as soon as they can sit in peace with money in their hands. They'll hunker down over the fare they've collected like misers. They'll sort out the coins in their large palms with their spindly fingers. Sometimes they even make happy snuffling sounds as they hand the passengers the change they're due.

Taking fares is their sole reason for existing. That's all. There's no kinder way to say it.

If you haven't paid your fare as soon as you enter, they'll sit on your lap and stare up at you. That's probably what upsets me the most. They'll take the other passengers' fare and hand out change, but they won't budge from their seat. Their creepy huge eyes stay fixed on your face until you rummage for your hard-earned cash and hand it over. Then, and only then, will they leave you alone.

With the smell and stain of exhaust pipe soot all over your clothes. Little thugs.

I know what you're thinking. They're like assistants for the drivers, right? Because the Punggok can help them with the fares, the drivers can keep their eyes on the road. So they should be grateful for them, right?

WRONG. Not all drivers like them. Case in point, Mang Gerry of the E.Rod-Quiapo route. I asked him if he liked having a Punggok around. He said no way, and even said he'd get rid of his Punggok if he had the chance.

"I don't even know how I got it," he lamented. "I think it was that one time I stopped to pee in a wooded area. But I said 'tabi-tabi po,' [2] I swear!"

He's tried catching it so he could throw it out, but apparently 1) catching a Punggok just doesn't work, because it's too fast for ordinary humans; 2) baiting it with cash doesn't work; you just lose money, and it never sleeps; and 2) even if you catch it and throw it out somehow, it'll find its way back to the jeepney - at least that was what the other drivers told him.

Mang Gerry has resigned himself to the thought that it's there to stay, taking up an admittedly tiny, unobtrusive space in the back of his jeepney. It keeps its creepy lidless eyes trained on the repair crew as they change the worn upholstery. It sits there calmly taking a bath every time the jeepney goes in for washing. After that unintended shower, it stinks of gasoline and smog anyway.

But the Punggok sometimes leave, and no one knows the reason. Mang Gerry says he just has to grin and bear it until then. Not even the Sinauna management can do anything about it. The Punggok, they say, are harmless, and part of the natural order of things.

My sister thinks they're cute. My sister has a problem. They are NOT cute. They're small, stinky, hairless, long-limbed, money-grubbing THUGS.

(Editor's note:

[1] "Punggok" is an old Filipino word meaning short and squat/stocky. It's not actually known if that's their name, because they never speak, but they have never revealed that they don't like it.

[2] "Tabi-tabi po" is a greeting from ancient times, which also serves as a warning for the listeners to stay clear of one's path. When you suspect there may be supernatural creatures living in a particular area, and you have to pass through it, you must say "tabi-tabi po" and duck your head, indicating that you mean no harm or disrespect.)