did you ever stop wondering?

I’m starting to think that the current shortage of Stored Value tickets in the MRT is just a way to create artficial demand for Globe’s G-Pass.

Makati Avenue Underpass at the corner of Ayala and Makati Avenues

MRT Radio has an email address and they accept greetings.

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I just heard yesterday “Don’t Stop Crying Your Heart Out” by Oasis being played on the MRT Radio.

(I was supposed to post this before the typhoon hit the Metro. But, you all know what happened..)

And so the MRT already has its own “radio station.” It plays house music and shuffles “reminders” in between every song. The quality of the sound coming form the train speakers seems to be ok, which makes me wonder why the drivers’ voices crackle when they announce the current stop.

Because I went home late one night during the work week, I caught the underpass empty.

We really had a fun week in Singapore and I really loved it there. But, since it’s back to work for me I haven’t found the time to sort throuugh all the photos yet. Right now, I can only pick one from more than a thousand that we took.

Singapore Cable Car (on the way back to HarbourFront from Sentosa)

The taxi ride tonight was a bit surreal. At first, I thought I was hearing some pseudo church music along with the cab’s two-way radio. Then I realized that the music was coming from the car stereo. The cab driver was playing music with nothing but “Hare Krishna” in the lyrics. (more…)

Lately I’ve been taking round trips going home when riding the MRT so I can take a seat. Usually, I get on the last car going south so I’d be on the first car going north, which is a lot closer to where I get off (Quezon Ave.).

Now, I won’t be able to do that anymore since they already have this segregation policy, much like the one on the LRT1. The first car is now reserved for the elderly, disabled, children and female passengers. And apparently an able, non-elderly adult male may only be allowed in the first car if he is accompanying his pregnant wife.

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Alone, I sit but with a lot of other people, with their own lives to ponder upon. The train moves as we all move together in some syncopated rocky motion. I can’t escape the fascination brought about by wondering about my “companions’” lives. A couple of foreigners in their school uniform were seated, probably yearning for learning, braving an unknown and somewhat unfamiliar culture. Men in long sleeves, cellphones holstered along their belt, strutting their english, probably talking about their kids and family. (more…)