Marc and I haven’t ridden the MRT for over a year now. We usually just take the car when going to Makati—it’s more convenient since we don’t go there during rush hour anyway. Yesterday, I had to go to Greenbelt to meet a non-web/graphic design client (ah, feels good to finally say that!) for the startup my sister and I are putting up. Marc didn’t want to bring a car, so we took the MRT instead.

I didn’t notice the segregation until we were on our way home already. There was a booth there with a guard and a sign that says something like “For women, children, elderly, and disabled only”. Marc and I felt like we were going to board the Titanic (“Women and children only! Women and children!”). I was really tempted to ride on the women’s passenger car. No, I thought, I would accompany Marc. But as it seemed like more and more people were waiting to board the train, Marc and I became apprehensive about me boarding the men’s passenger car. When the train came, Marc and I made the final decision that I would ride the women’s car (the men’s cars were already SO FULL, and I do mean FULL).

So anyway, there I went to the other car as a last minute decision. Lo and behold, a MAN made that last-minute decision as well. He pushed me aside to get to the train. In the middle of me saying, “you sonafa…!!!” (believe me, it sounded better in Filipino), the security guard shouted, “huy! Ikaw! Babae ka ba?!!! (Hey! You! Are you a woman?!!!)”. Obviously, he’s not. Duh. This rude guy looked like he had “PERVERT” stamped across his forehead.

Well, anyway, pervert aside… I was in the last compartment of the women’s car. I looked over where Marc was, and theirs was jam-packed. Poor guy. He was reeling how much it stank in there after the ride.

There were still men inside the car, actually. Old men, men accompanying old women, men accompanying old men, men with pregnant wives, men with children, young men (as in, KIDS), and men pretending to be women (nah, just kidding, I invented that one hehe). Simply put, there was a very few number of scrotums inside the car. 😀

It was still a tight squeeze (it was rush hour, after all), but at least it didn’t reek. This is another testament that men sweat more than women, and majority of women don’t stink when they’re sweating. My nose only got irritated with the mixed scent of different flowery and fruity perfumes. But hey, you can’t have everything.

Marc was in complete disarray when I met him at the Cubao station. He was squashed, and it totally reeked in the car he rode. Collective sweat, he said. Eww. :p

Anyway, I really hope they’ll keep this up. Because honestly, we Filipinos seem to have a bit a problem when it comes to discipline. You got to put fences on roads to prevent pedestrians from jay-walking… But even then, I got to witness a guy trying with all his might to climb over the fence (he looked like a monkey dangling over the fence from afar, to tell you the truth). Put a sign on a wall that says “Bawal umihi dito (Peeing here is not allowed),” and then guess what? In a couple of days, you get to see a man peeing EXACTLY where you put the sign on the wall. Worse, you might even be lucky enough to see a woman squatting and peeing under your message. And now, they had to segregate the men from the women. Another “method” to force in discipline.

Some would find this amusing, some even alarming. Some will just shake their heads, but others will go shouting their heads off at the President to resign in graduation cermonies. But one thing we can agree on: we are one COLORFUL culture 😀

Lesson learned: Pee in the toilet, not on the wall.