Road rage

It’s a huge relief that taxis around the city now carry the “How’s my driving?” text, in accordance with a 2007 Memorandum issued by the Land Transportation Franchising and Regulatory Board (LTFRB). Bearing the LTFRB hotline numbers, the stenciled text offers an outlet for grievances of passengers and other drivers. I believe the regulation has abusive, reckless tendency of many taxi drivers.

Taxi drivers are known to race at death-defying speeds, wedge the vehicle between the tiniest spaces and cut into lanes every chance they get. While their maneuvering skills look worthy of exhibition stunts, many taxis are accidents waiting to happen. “Defensive driving”, my mom tells me, but too bad that doesn’t pay the insurance plan.

Before the strict implementation of the “How’s my driving?” text, I once hailed a taxi and got in, but I didn’t take note of its name or plate number. It was a dilapidated Nissan Sentra with mud-caked floor mats. A veteran in riding public transportation, I knew that most taxi drivers tend to be hurried, but I’m sorry to say, that one was quite insane. The radio blared one of those programs wherein two callers, a male and female, would “meet”, talk and exchange cell phone numbers for about 5 minutes on air. While he muttered reactions to what the young callers said, the driver sped viciously through the streets, as if we were being chased, and apparently he was indecisive because he’d switch lanes every minute. And each time we were breath away from collision (which was more often than not), he’d stomp on the brakes, sending me catapulting forward. A longer distance in that vehicle, I’m sure my lungs would’ve flown out my nose.

When we finally got to my destination, I handed him a P100 bill and like many taxi drivers say, he also said he had no change. Well, what was I supposed to do about it? After a tense silence and with molars fused together, I told him tersely that he could keep the change. I was in a terrible hurry, and apparently so was he. How ironic. A generous tip is supposedly awarded for good service. The driver was beaming and thanked me, blissfully overlooking the frown on my face. I wanted to kill him, but with those driving skills, I figured he could manage that himself.

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When I worked as one of the paralegals for camp BOPK last May elections, Minnie Osmeña, sister of Mayor Tomas Osmeña asked each one of us what we’d want for Cebu City. I replied that I hoped for wider roads, and she said that road-widening projects were underway. But what we also lack is road maintenance. Many of our busy city streets are riddled with potholes, which cause long-term damage to vehicles. To name a couple of deeply potholed roads are F. Ramos Street and Junquera Street. They serve many private vehicles, jeeps and taxis, because those are bustling areas of business and such streets call for immediate repair and maintenance.

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Some taxis are fueled by LPG (liquefied petroleum gas) and are duly registered with the LTFRB. Reports say that the conversion cost may be pricey but overall, it saves the vehicle up to 44 percent in fuel consumption costs. Earlier in the year, Land Transportation Franchising and Regulatory Board Chairman Thomson Lantion eased our doubts about the safety of LPG-powered cabs. “There is no need to be concerned. LPG-powered taxis are safe, LPG is already being used worldwide as alternate fuel for motor vehicles,” Lantion said. Maybe I’ll take his word for it. But when some taxi interiors have such a stringent smell of LPG to the point of that it makes me nauseated and uneasy, I find that very difficult to believe.

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