TALES FROM THE DAYS OF QUARANTINE 1: THOSE DELIVERY BOYS

 First and foremost, let me get this straight.

Times are hard. And as if I had to remind anyone on this planet living in the year 2020 about it.  Jobs are scarce and even the few ones left are slowly diminishing.  

All it took is a little over four months in this country and businesses have gone kaput.  Rentals continue but there is no money coming in.  Malls that used to be the mammon of commerce have literally turned into caverns so much so that when you talk, you hear an echo (and considering that you are still wearing a mask and a face shield while delivering the utterance).

So because times are hard and nobody prefers to go out of their houses unless necessary, other businesses boomed while others were doomed.  The delivery service is one of them: all these zigzagging weaving men in helmets riding their motorbikes in almost every street in the Metro since the strict lockdowns were implemented.

Well, why not?  The whole idea of commerce has been completely reconstituted with the boom of online sellers peddling everything from industrial quality chainsaws to kakanins like biko, pichi-pichi and kutsinta following Lola's secret recipe.  While disenfranchised workers have resorted to feats of resourcefulness (or survival) --- to selling everything from succulents in pots to kare-kare, lugaw na may tuwalya at bituka, or bopis, the need for the delivery boys is but imminent.  Whether you pay COD or through GCash or bank transfer, you still need Kuya Delivery Boy to bring the goodies right to your doorstep.

And since the quarantine I have practically bought everything edible and imaginable from Facebook Market.

I have ordered the entire spectrum of longganisas produced in the 7000 islands called the Republic of the Philippines.  Whether it is from Vigan, Lucban, Alaminos, Pampanga, Cabanatuan, Cebu, Davao ... name it, I have bought it.  Then there are all sorts of Keto conditioned peanut butter, cheese spreads ... pati na nga tenderloin, ground beef, bacon, chili sauce, four kinds of local vinegar.  Oh, not to mention the air plants, succulents, snake plants ... and my challenging purchase, a four-tiered pinewood plant holder na bitbit ni Kuya Delivery all the way from Imus, Cavite.

Part of the many great lessons I received from these past four months plus-plus is that all these online purchases have completely changed the way we are doing commerce.

In the Age of Social Distancing, the malls will remain like hollow caves where disturbing silence has replaced the cacophony of shoppers or even the sound of credit cards being swiped at the Cashier's counter.  Instead, you get these Delivery Boys who can provide you with enough challenge and sense of adventure and an understanding of the human condition.

Before anything else, there are certain points that should be established.

(1) Hindi madali ang trabaho ni Kuya Delivery Boy.  I do not know exactly how much they earn ... or what manner by which their daily take-home is computed but spending your entire day criss-crossing the cities at a time when exposure to people --- all kinds of people --- can be dangerous because of the pandemic, these guys must endure a lot to keep their wits about and focus on their driving.

(2) Kung sinu-sino ang nakakasalamuha nila. Whether they are the sellers or the customers, Kuya Delivery exposes himself to a great variety of people and they, in turn, are exposed to all sorts of possible conditions.  I feel somewhat queasy having to wear a mask each time I step out of the house and meet Kuya to receive the parcel but then that is part of the protocol.  You assume that he is a virus-carrier inasmuch as he assumes the same with me.  

(3) Hindi ito career, trabaho ito na dala ng masidhing pangangailangan. This is self-explanatory.  Considering the number of businesses that have closed down ... or if they remained open, the level of downsizing that has taken place --- doing a delivery job is not a step down the ladder.  It is keeping your head above the water.  I know of a lot of men (and women) who have joined the delivery service because they need jobs and it looks like there is no light at the end of any tunnel to provide better alternatives in the near future.  Besides, what is really wrong with delivery work? It is an honest job ... and that is all that matters. It provides food on the table.

But ...

There is an entire gamut of experience one gets with Kuya Delivery. I have tried to figure out what it is but (in all honesty) dealing with some of them can be an ultimate test of patience and understanding.  Di nga ba? Times are hard. Kaya let us be a little bit more pasensiyoso and try to understand that theirs is a more stressful situation that for us, the customers, who are just sitting on our derrieres waiting for the deliveries

Yet despite all these considerations, there are still these most trying moments in which you have to simply bite your lower lip as you try to deal with Kuya Driver.  It is not like each and everyone of them was sent to you to pay for some karma.  Some are very good, very smart, very sharp and very polite.  Some even strike an interesting conversation. And then there are the others.  

To make things clearer, here are some scenarios.  These are snatches of conversations over the cellphone when Kuya Driver either sends you a text message or makes a call.

CASE STUDY 1:

ME:            Hello?

KUYA:        S'an ba papunta diyan sa inyo?

ME:             HA?  Sino 'to?

KUYA:        Yung delivery. Taga-_____! S'an ba dadaan papunta dyan, ha?

(Teka, wala kang GPS, Kuya?  Gawain ba akong WAZE?)

ME:        Saan ka ba?

KUYA:   Nandito pa sa Ilaya.

(Gusto mong bigyan kita ng directions from Ilaya to Alabang?!)

Or what about this scenario?

CASE STUDY 2:

KUYA:     Sir, ikaw ba si Joey?

ME:         Ako nga. Who is this please?

KUYA:     Sir Joey, ako po si _____. Yung pipick-up ng binili nyo.

ME:         Ah, OK. May problema?

KUYA:    Sir, ano po ba yung binili nyo?

ME:         Ha?  Bakit? Tela.  Pang-kurtina.

KUYA:    Sir, marami ba?

ME:        (Sincerely confused now) Bakit?

KUYA:    Baka po kasi malaki, hindi magkasiya sa box ko. At saka baka mabigat.

ME:        Twelve yards ang total.

KUYA:    Naku, mahaba yon.

ME:       (Internally cursing) Nakatiklop yon!  Hindi naman ibibigay sa iyo yon na nakaladlad, ano?

Okay,  What about this one?  Again, in my fascination for bed sheets this time. 

CASE STUDY 3:

KUYA:    Sir ... may problema. Saan ba dito yung tindahan?

( Para naman kasing alam ko ang exact location niya sa Planet Earth at para ring alam ko ang pasikot-sikot ng Divisoria!)

ME:        Saan ka na ba?

KUYA:    Dito na sa Ilaya.  Saan ba dito?

ME:         Hanapin mo yung (name of store) diyan ...

KUYA:     Saang pasilyo?

( At this point, humahagulgol na ako sa galit, awa sa sarili at higit sa lahat sa tukso ng tadhana dahil gusto ko lang naman bumili ng tela for bedsheets.)\

Or what about this?

CASE STUDY 4:

ME:    Hello?

KUYA:        Nandito na ako sa labas ng village ... Ano nga ang address mo?

(Exasperated pero pa-cool pa rin.)

ME:        (Gives the address)

KUYA:    Ano ang number?  31?

ME:        Hindi.  21.

KUYA:    Ano nga ang pangalan mo?

Gano'n ang pagkatanong, ha?  Gan'on ka barubal?  As if kainuman ko siya ng Red Horse noong binyag ng kanyang anak kung saan ako ang ninong.

Okey, here is another:

CASE STUDY 5:

I was in my work room, writing when my phone rings.

ME:        Hello?

KUYA:   Sir, nandito na po ako outside.

ME:        OK . I-ring mo yung doorbell.

KUYA:    Saan yung doorbell?

ME:         Eh, di sa may door! Alangan naman sa bubungan!

or a corollary to the same scenario.

ME:        Hello ...

KUYA:   _____ po ito.  Nasa labas na po ako ng bahay nyo.

ME:       Ah, OK.  Sandali ...

KUYA:   May tao ba diyan?

(A moment of silence.)

ME:        Wala.  Kausap mo ang aking kaluluwa.

But this really bakes the proverbial cake.

CASE STUDY 6:

I was standing outside my house because Kuya messaged me that he was already outside my residence but he was not there.

He sends me a text message stating that he could not find the number of my house. So I texted back.

After around then minutes, Kuya arrived feeling exceptionally grouchy.

So I asked.

ME:        Bakit ka naligaw?

(And he answers me in a not so pleasant tone of voice.)

KUYA:     Ang labo naman nitong tirahan ninyo.  Ang hirap hanapin ng mga numbers.  Sabi mo 31 ... umabot ako hanggang dulo, hanggang 72 .... wala namang 31 ... may 32, 34 ...

( Hindi na po ako nakapigil.)

ME:       Eh, kasi nakatingin ka sa kanan ... eh, lahat ng odd numbers nasa kaliwa. Hindi mo talaga mahahanap yung number ng bahay ko.

KUYA:  Kahit na. Ang gulo pa rin.

ME:      Halika. Puntahan natin ang Village Manager. Gusto mong mag-complain?

Then finally this.

CASE STUDY 6:

I open the front door and Kuya's eyes lighten up.

KUYA:     Ay, Direk!!!  Ikaw pala yan, Direk!

ME:          (Smiling)  Ako nga.

KUYA:     Direk, fan po ako. Galing mo talaga, Direk.

ME:          Thank you.

KUYA:      Ano nga uli ang pangalan mo?

ME:          (Controlled pa naman) Direk Joey!

KUYA:     Sabi na nga ba, eh. Direk Joey LAMANGAN!

I rest my case.