The Megaphone

There’s this intersection in Noveleta where traffic tends to get jammed. You must be thinking, “oh, traffic jam, cool, it’s everywhere” but think twice to include the fact that Noveleta is a very small town near the heart of Cavite—where cows are still used to sell trinkets, goats roam freely in green spaces—ideally, traffic jams should be unheard of. But there’s this intersection, and it makes impossible things possible. I’ve been stuck there for a record time of thirty minutes.

No, but really, the lack of discipline by the drivers and the absence of the proper authorities to regulate the traffic are to be blamed. In this intersection, there are two spots that mini buses use as mini-terminals in the narrow, two-lane intersection. I know right! Only in the Philippines, swear. The drivers (while playing Bon Jovi cassettes or Love Radio in full volume) amble along waiting for passengers, not caring shit about the rest of the world waiting for them to move the hell out of the way. Of course, it totally helps that there are no traffic lights in this intersection.

The local government tried to put some officials on the street to give out tickets to traffic violators but this move was ineffective. Why? Well, they’re sissies. They back down from the drivers since the drivers tend to pick a fight if flagged down or simply ignore them. Thus, the traffic patrol usually lasts for two or three weeks before mysteriously disappearing. 

Until the advent of The Megaphone. 

There’s this small shed in the corner of the intersection that was supposed to serve as some sort of police outlook (can’t think of a better term). For some years it was used as a temporary sleeping place for the homeless. Now that it’s all cleaned up, the traffic patrol people hang out there with a megaphone, yelling at offenders to get out of the way. And you know what? IT ACTUALLY WORKS. The screech of the megaphone works well with the Pinoy usisero nature—the scandalized stares of the people makes the offender move away as fast as possible. Apparently, kapal ng mukha is no match for an impassioned megaphone.

It’s amazing how subtle social pressure could work better than the threat of losing income from missed passengers and unwanted tickets. I say, if someone with an extra-loud megaphone could call all our public officials to account for their perf, the problem of corruption would be instantly solved—as long as we, the People of the Philippines, can still care enough to be scandalized about corruption.