All for the sake of making money

“Mabuti na eto kaysa sa wala kaming makain.”


Such was the claim of Mang Nanding, a pot-bellied man I know whose cream-colored shirt with holes on the sides seems to be his uniform. His shirt is up midway, showing his belly button and his faded denim short pants is really pants shortened to fit him as he is too short and his legs too stubby. He has a supposedly white “good morning” face towel wrapped around his balding head like a Rambo thing, and his face, as I see it, is full of mirth.


Everytime I visit my tita in Balagtas, which is once a week, I get to have a glimpse of this seemingly toothless man whose voice needs no megaphone shouting “O, SM, SM! Miss, Divisoria?”. He would be the one eager enough to approach prospective commuters and ask them their destination. Actually, ask is such a mild word. The truth is, he is the one who shouts the destination of either bus or van right at your very face then points you to where it is as if you are too short-sighted not to see it. I couldn’t remember exactly the number of times I glared at him, but I could still remember elbowing him. And that was the time he blocked my way just to shout his all-too familiar line not even mindful that the bus he was shouting about was already getting away. Not being a sprinter, I was left seething; waiting for the next bus to arrive.


It was at that time when my Creative Writing professor assigned us to do a character sketch on ordinary people that caught our attention. The pot-bellied man I elbowed, I thought, should be it. I thought of it as a brilliant idea because I would get to interview him. After all, if I could not tell him that he is quite bastos without sounding like a brat then I could actually imply it in my questions. I was not supposed to visit my tita that same week, but I did, not because I miss my tita, but because of the walking pot-bellied megaphone.


I found out that he is shy after all. He couldn’t make out the fact that I chose him to be my subject that he simply could not stand still and could not even look at me straight in the eye. I thought, at first, that maybe he was just embarrassed over what he did to me a few days back or he simply could not stand being out of job for even ten minutes, that he was itching to call out the next commuter. In my haste and fear of not being accommodated, I offered to pay him for his temporary rest saying that I would pay him the exact amount he receives as a barker for one Public Utility Vehicle. That was a bit clumsy of me. The good thing was, the amount he normally receives is, at most, twenty pesos.


Mang Nanding a.k.a Andrew Gonzal is married to one and lover of many. As to why he told me that, I don’t know. He has three legitimate children, all in elementary, and one illegitimate new-born child. This forty year-old man is a high-school drop-out and has been a “barker” since sixteen years old. He claimed that he had no choice but be a “barker” because no one would accept him, not even his mother who was a fish vendor. At least, he said, that he has a regular job and could actually support not one but two families with his income of at most Php 300.00 a day. I asked him if he is satisfied with the pay, he smiled broadly and said “oo naman,eh yung iba nga walang trabaho. Istambay lang”. The thing is, I could really see how proud he is with his odd job for when I asked him about the life of a “barker”, he plainly told me that it is “masaya” and does not demand time. He does not need to log in or to file vacation leaves, sick leaves or anything like that or even feign sickness when he feels too lazy to go to work. He added that “pa-upo upo ka lang habang naghihintay ng pasahero tsaka di ka talaga mawawalang ng pera hanggat may mga sasakyan”.


I had this pre-conceived notion that “barkers” are self-employed. I thought that anyone could actually be “barkers” just by shouting at commuters and ushering them to the PUV. I was proven wrong. Mang Nanding told me that for you to be hired as a “barker”, you should apply to the association of jeepneys, fx, vans, and bus drivers. He added that “mas okay talaga kung may kaibigan kang mga draybers para siguradong pasok.” You see, I found out that many are actually lining up for this job. After all, you don’t need a college or high school or even elementary diploma, an experience, a beautiful face, a certificate of good moral character or anything else needed when you apply as a sales person, kargador, driver or to any low-paying, unstable jobs.


Then came the one million dollar question. I summoned all my courage and asked him why he had to shout at commuters’ faces. He merely laughed. I did not like the answer so I asked him again, making sure that he would get it this time. Mang Nanding admitted that commuters are so snob that the only way they would be noticed it to shout at them. Of course, he confided, that it is also for show. If the drivers see how much effort they have to pull off, then they would not entertain the thought of not having them around anymore. I smiled at this, but I could not help but suggest that he should make it a point to tell his fellow “barkers” to do their show in a respectable manner. I calmly pointed out that their shouting is actually irritating. To get the message across I asked him: what if a man gets so irritated he would punch you right then and there? What would you do? What if the drivers would not want you anymore for fear of violence? He nodded rather enthusiastically that I had to smile.


Mang Nanding’s job does not come as a surprise to us Filipinos for anywhere you go in the Philippines, you would see people involved in amazing odd jobs. Much more odd than the odd jobs of the Americans like walking dogs to parks, babysitting among others. Their odd jobs, I believe, would pale in comparison to our odd jobs. Have you heard of the women hired as guinea pigs by deodorant companies? These women actually endure the job of having their armpits applied with all sorts of chemicals. Of course, the same goes with the guinea pigs of shampoos, facial products, skin products, etcetera. The list does not stop there. Who could overlook the watch-car boys and girls, the pulot boys and girls, the extras in movies and advertisements among others? The thing is, these odd jobs I mentioned are somewhat needed, though unheard of, but, depending on context, needed nonetheless.


An American author once commented that pinoys have a knack for mediocrity while observing a konduktor in one of Cebu City’s jeepneys. A konduktor’s job is to collect the fare while hanging onto the rear part of the jeep, bills neatly entwined on their fingers forming a fan. It is supposedly his job to act as a “barker”, but poverty says that he should designate it to others who also need a small amount of money. When you analyze the situation, it is so true that a PUV does not need a konductor or a “barker”. Drivers could do the collecting and the cardboard signs in front of the PUV could serve as “barkers”. But in the Philippine context this could never be. With the economy down, the VAT raised to 12%, the number of people homeless and jobless, more odd jobs would come pouring in. What the American did not know is that in the pinoy’s eyes, a konduktor is somewhat a legitimate job, and could pass off as not being too noticeably odd. I wondered why he overlooked the “barkers” in his commentary. In my opinion, a “barker” is unnecessary, I strongly believe that they even contribute to the congestion of both vehicle and human traffic. You would see them stopping people, hailing PUVs and pointing them to spaces where they are not even allowed to park or drop people off, walking or jogging along the side street chasing vehicles and, believe it or not, talking loudly to drivers. They contribute a lot to noise pollution.


The job of a “barker” is to collect passengers for real PUVs and private-turned-public utility vehicles. You see, the signs on the windows of the PUVs are not enough to bring in passengers maybe because these are too small to read. If you are a commuter, being met by two or three or sometimes more “barkers” all at once shouting the destination of the vehicles in terminals or waiting sheds is a normal thing. It is also normal to smell garlic, onions, alcohol and cigarette combined in their breath and have their sweaty arms brush against yours. Of course, you could never escape inhaling their bath-deprived bodies. It is also normal, if I may say so, based on experience, to be sprinkled with spit as the “barkers” see to it that you get the message by placing their unkempt faces two or three inches away from your face.


I have to admire these “barkers” for their ability to be heard even though they are surrounded with honking cars, loud people who are either laughing or quarreling their hearts out, street vendors calling out costumers, blaring music/noise emanating from vehicles, the whistles of traffic officers, and the pleading of street children who would never give up blocking your way until you give them a peso or more.


The state of the Philippine economy is such that would really compel the increase of “barkers”. Mang Nanding is just one of the many victims of poverty that is really consuming the pinoys to the extent that many people belonging to the lower class would not mind if their job is not honorable. But when you look at the “barkers” in a positive light, you would see perspectives you would never get when you delve on their bastos image. The first thing I realized is that these “barkers” did not dream of becoming a mere “barker”, but society dictated that this is one of the ways they could survive in this poverty-stricken country. These “barkers” are an uneducated lot not because they chose not to study, but because they are or their parents are too poor to finance their education. In this society that values prestige, they could never be anywhere nearer to the society’s concept of success – a graduate of UP or Ateneo with a title before their names.


A “barker”, as I see it, is a symbol of perseverance. Mang Nanding proved to me that he is one of the many who are employed in odd jobs who never gave up on life. When struck with poverty, humans have the tendency to wallow in self-pity that they usually have a difficult time getting themselves out of the pit of depression. Then they would either want to die, stop looking for a job altogether, or, the easiest, beg.


I could never thought of “barkers” in contempt after realizing these. I now see them as fighters, as real people immersed in jobs they did not choose but have learned to value it. They are people who dared to take a step in a strange, dishonorable, humbling occupation just for the sake of making money, just for the sake of putting food into their mouths and live a somewhat easier life.