O Blessed Travels

Each city in the Philippines has its own mode of public transportation. In Manila and Cebu City, people rely on jeepneys—sort of open-air vans or short buses that follow designated routes. Manila jeepneys are famous for their brilliant decorations. 

Dumaguete City, a regional capital of Negros Oriental, is relatively small. There are jeepneys to and from neighboring towns, but within Dumaguete we rely on three-wheel motorcycles with room for extra passengers. There are roughly 2000 licensed tricycles, as they’re called here, that taxi us around the city. 

A Manila jeepney: though this one is shiny chrome with bold blue accents, it's rather tame compared to most.

The day we arrived to Dumaguete in January, the tricycle drivers were ending a strike which protested a fare reduction from nine pesos to six. (The local transportation commission had claimed lower fuel costs warranted lower fares.) Though the strike didn’t last long—or result in an official return to the higher fare—I've observed that people who can pay the nine pesos, usually do. To travel from our house to the center of Dumaguete, about two kilometers, costs about Php20, or about 50 U.S. cents.

 Most of the tricycles are operated by private individuals, though there are a few company outfits with multiple tricycles: Honey & Sweet, Vanessa, and Dodot are a few I’ve noticed. 

All of Dumaguete’s tricycles are painted different colors with their own designs.

 The most distinctive design element of the tricycles, though not at all surprising in this very Catholic country, is the frequency of religious blessings or invocations painted boldly on the top of their carriages. These messages most often ask for blessings from God or Jesus, St. Catherine or St. Anthony. A very common invocation is to Señor Santo Niño or abbreviated as Sr. Sto. Niño, which means Revered Holy Child and refers to the child Jesus icon that Magellan is said to have given the Filipinos when he landed in Cebu in 1521. By far the most common tricycle message that riders travel under is the ecumenical “God Bless Our Way." 

About a quarter of the tricycles leave out the religious messaging, but paint their family or company name on the tricycle. I’ve managed to find only a handful of tricycles that vary from these two designs.  L. Ron Hubbard’s Dianetics has a tricycle emblazoned with its Website (no comment). I love “The Rock” tricycle design and have spotted him a few times. Two tricycles have banners that seem original, if maybe just a little subversive given the context: “The Power of You” and “One World is Enough, a Wise Man Said.” A third says on top, "So What?" and then answers below, "Oh Yeah..." The ellipsis seems crucial here. Another tricycle I’ve spotted twice, but failed to record in a photo, announces itself boldly: “I Don’t Know!” I'm not sure if the driver is trying to throw shade  (I hope I'm using that term correctly) on Dumaguete's believers or if the driver is just wryly warning passengers of his geographic limitations. Below the passenger window on the front of the tricycle, a panel reads: “Cheap Ride.” 

My all-time favorite Dumaguete tricycle banner was spotted only once a couple weeks ago, and unfortunately, I didn’t capture it on camera. (I’m beginning to suspect this tricycle was a day-tripper from another town.) The tricycle says, very directly, “Sad but True.” Is this a warning to passengers about the ride if they climb aboard? Or maybe he's just making an honest statement that, unfortunately, could apply to too many things in this life.