The jeepney was a temporary solution that became a permanent fixture on Philippine roads. Much like other aspects of the post-war scenario, we had to make do with what we had, abandoned as we were by our "liberators." While Europe had its Marshall Plan and MacArthur set up camp in Japan to oversee its recovery, the new Republic of the Philippines was left to languish under the reins of a "government run like hell."
Like the new republic’s path to self-reliance, our public roads were also paved with good intentions, but woefully with thin asphalt – that melted at first contact with rain. The robust jeepneys were the ideal transport for our so-called roads. Since mass transport systems were nowhere in sight, the jeepney became the primary means of transport. Capacity grew from apatan (four to a side) to animan (six to a side) and then to waluhan (eight to a side) in the blink of an eye.
What the jeepney also became was eye candy. The borloloy décor that used to be lavished on calesas made its way to the hammered and riveted bodies of jeepneys. This, I believe, was a natural reaction of the Filipino to the ugliness of the city. The more visually chaotic and demented the city became, the more colorful and decorated the jeepney evolved.
And evolve it did. The jeepney grew in length and in the amount of chrome, stainless steel, and accessories. The horses that used to pull calesas were replaced by miniature hood ornaments. The bigger the engine, the more horses it had. Buntings of vari-colored plastic were attached to any place that could hold them. Destination signs and their holders became artwork in themselves. Exterior body paint made them the pintados of the 20th century while the interiors and undersides of their roofs became canvases for folk art that rivaled that of the Sistine chapel. (Though the outstretched hand was not of God but the corner policeman collecting tong – a Filipino term derived from the Chinese dong lui.)
In the meanwhile, jeepneys proliferated in the tens of thousands in Manila and its suburbs. Cebu and other major cities around the country saw a similar rise in jeepney population. Bus services were more efficient but the conditions of the roads and anarchy of traffic favored the agile jeepneys. Filipinos loved (and still love) to have these vehicles stop for them anywhere – even in the middle of the road. Besides, they provided thousands of dyipni dribers with a livelihood. Eventually, the numbers were so great that they became (and still are) a political force – a major reason why we can’t ever get rid of the jeepney.
In the ’50s, ’60s and ’70s, the jeepney ruled. Despite numerous attempts to get rid of them, we did not have viable alternatives for transport. Subways, tranvia revivals and monorails were planned since the late ’50s but there was neither money nor the will to build any of these till the mid-’70s. The success of the jeepney spawned a few other experiments instead.
In the late ’60s, jeepney-like buses appeared. They had large capacities but passengers still entered through the back just like regular jeepneys. They were dangerous and soon disappeared. Then came the mini-buses. The passenger entrances were at the side. They lasted till the ’70s but they too posed danger to their passengers and many lost their lives in accidents that trapped them in wreckage too mangled to pull survivors from.
Finally, common sense prevailed and these experiments were curtailed. Jeepneys were banned from the highways and concern for safety led to re-consideration of jeepney design and driving. The big gasoline firm ESSO even backed a program called Jeepney King. This involved safety seminars and contests for the best drivers that saw thousands of would-be kings trying to negotiate trick circuits in the fastest time.
At the height of the jeepney’s popularity in the early 1970s, they even became ambassadors of goodwill. Jeepneys journeyed around the world – to London, Paris and New York – making heads turn everywhere they went. (Decades later, when I traveled to Vietnam, I found two that still served a golf course north of Ho Chi Minh City.)
Then, the jeepneys were appropriated by the upper class – the Hotel Inter-Continental in Makati built a café around several of them. The beautiful set came to sip overpriced coffee here while on the streets, the jeepneys rivaled the popularity of beauty queens like Gloria Diaz, Margie Moran and Aurora Pijuan. They were, in fact, the folk royalty of the city – wearing the best of Filipino craftsmanship, handmade, handcrafted and handpainted.
The LRT had by then already made its debut and Love Buses wooed passengers away from macho jeepneys, which by that time had evolved into eight-track, cartridge-playing, black-lighted traveling discotheques. The overall transport system was never fully integrated though and transitions between modes of transport (LRT to bus, bus to jeepney, and jeepney to tricycle) were never really accommodated in the city’s physical infrastructure. Plus, the effect of over two decades since the shift to diesel engines was making its presence felt in increasing levels of air pollution. Thick black smog blocked out whatever color jeepney exteriors provided to city life.
The ’80s made things worse. Metro Manila and other urban centers were hitting the big time, in terms of population and sprawl. Make-do planning (or the lack of it) generated a greater need for transport and the jeepney still lorded it over – it was still being tolerated for want of any option. Nevertheless, by this time, the jeepney with its drivers and the huge segment of urban populations that depended on the system had solidified its strength in local politics. A local action star was building his power base exactly by taking the jeepney driver’s image as his own, the ordinary man struggling to make do – maginoo pero medyo bastos.
The rude awakening came in the ’90s as vehicle pollution, not just from jeepneys, but from other vehicles (like thousands of smoke-belching reconditioned monster buses) in the city cast a permanent haze over much of the landscape. Respiratory diseases became a recognized part of (so-called) living in the metropolis.
With that reality came a partial solution – the FX. New jitney services sprung up using air-conditioned Asian utility vehicles. The ride was more comfortable but a bit more expensive. Nevertheless, with ever-growing demand for travel into the city from super-sprawled suburbs, the jeepney still grew in number mainly to accommodate those whose budgets for travel were getting smaller and smaller.
The solution again is only partial. Although more LRT and MRT lines are being built, they are not realizing their full capacities. Despite a new anti-pollution law, franchises of buses and licenses of jeepneys are neither decreasing nor are the vehicles in operation obviously less pollutive. Almost all of the new FXs, of course, are diesel-powered and ill-maintained. Terminals for transitions in modes of transport for these new jitney services, as well as for other new pests (like the two-stroke noise-generating tricycles), are still not integrated with the city’s infrastructure making life as a pedestrian truly Third World in feel and actual reality.
The problem of the vehicle itself is being tackled by commendable programs like the electric-powered jeepneys of Francisco Motors. An article in this paper last year ("Jeepney goes electric," Motoring, October 2, 2002) tells us that it is possible to build and operate a fleet of such pollution-free jeepneys. What is needed is support from the government, investors and the acceptance by a riding public.
Another option is for all utility vehicles to convert from diesel to compressed natural gas (CNG) or liquid petroleum gas (LPG). This is the only sure way to clean the air. Even if we were able to enforce anti-smoke belching laws, the amount of pollution already present and the sheer number of fossil fuel-burning vehicles preclude any hope of cleaning the air in our lifetime. The solution needs to be more drastic. The whole structure of cities themselves needs to be reconsidered, too. Sprawl should be replaced with more sustainable paradigms of urban growth; one that does not generate continued reliance on fossil fuels or extensive and expensive road infrastructure.
Necessity is the mother of invention. The jeepney was an offspring of drastic circumstance. Our foul air and unruly city make life today an unbearable ride for all 10 or so million of us. The romance of the jeepney can be recovered, but only in electric or alternatively-fueled vehicles. The technology is available. Other Third World cities like New Delhi have been successful in switching completely to alternative fuels. Their vehicles are as colorful as our own.
The color and texture of the jeepney can still be used to express our creativity and cultural distinctiveness. This distinctiveness makes the image of the jeepney iconic of our wonderfully mixed and continually adapting and evolving culture. A conference on Philippine-American relations at the UP this July celebrates exactly this aspect of our culture and uses the jeepney as its logo. On a more commercial note, a world-famous vodka-maker even chose the jeepney to represent Manila in its award-winning series of ads.
Jeepneys are absolutely wonderful and unique. We need not give up such uniqueness or cultural expression. We could and should, though, give up noise, pollution and bad physical and transport planning. We just need to find proper venues and vehicles for sustainable expression and develop an urban culture based on permanent and not temporary solutions. If we do that, arriving at the solution of much of our urban ills will be even shorter than a jeepney ride away. The King of the Road will, at that point, have to give way and we will all become kings (and queens) in our lives.