Care for a Ride?

My father used to live in a mountain but my Lola stays there even until now. When I was a kid, the thought of traveling to mountains creeps me out (although I always love to meet my Lola). Especially if I think of a particular ride that my father used to dub the fastest transportation to heaven – the Habal-habal. I swore to myself that I would never ever ride such a crap. Don’t ask me why. It’s just that the thought of me taking that ride, scares me. So, I usually walked it from the highway up to such a steep and rocky road to my father’s place.

          But fate has played on me. I guess it’s true that the more you hate something, the closer it gets to you.

 
I received my first teaching assignment last June 2007. Do you know where my first assignment is? The DepEd sent me to an 18 – km – ride mountain place. It is called Nalundan. I can’t possibly walk it from the highway. It is too far. The name is even medieval to me (though I am born Bindoyanon). I did not have a choice then but to ride what my father called fastest transportation to heaven – the Habal-habal. Yes, I had my first taste of a terrifying habal-habal ride.

How was it? All caps: SCARY.

 Here it is. Imagine a TMX motorcycle. And, there were four of us excluding the driver. Take note, excluding the driver. So, technically, we were five people riding the habal-habal. And worst, I was the one seated on the driver’s lap since I happened to be the smallest among the other three passengers.

Not only the number of passengers made my first journey scary but also the twisted and bumpy paths. Those stones, as if angry every time we pass them, are gritting their teeth (as if they have) against the hard wheels of the habal-habal. Every big stone was instinctively evaded by the driver’s skillful maneuvering of the habal-habal. Sitting on the driver’s lap made the journey even more menacing since I felt as if I was going to nudge my head to any of those stones we came across with. My bum hurt a lot every time we passed a hump. Very painful, indeed that I decided to busy myself with the trees we passed by. Those green beautiful trees, where birds hover, somewhat ease off the discomfort I felt.

Then it rained. God, it rained. Just the time we needed it the least. We were all drenched like poor chicks having no place to take refuge to. We were soaking wet and never did we were able to find a haven to pass the time. The rain stopped after a while. To cut it short, we arrived at the station totally spent, worn out and drained. Well, at least, we arrived safely. Thank God.

Even now, every time I take my weekly ride, it still feels the first time. It seems like an ordeal that I have learned to embrace since this has become a part of our service. No matter how difficult it may seem to ride it, the fact still remains that this crap has turned to be very important and the fastest means of transportation towards our station.

This is a ride that sends us off to our chosen occupation – the teaching profession.

So anyone, care for a ride?