THE North Luzon Expressway (Nlex) is built for speed. If, like me, you spend long hours traversing Edsa, you will understand how much I enjoyed tooling along Nlex one Friday morning…until, as I approached the northernmost exit, I was flagged down and surrounded by law enforcers from the Land Transportation Office (LTO). They really do have radar guns along Nlex and they will catch you.
The LTO agent who asked me to roll down my window showed me a list of license plates that included mine and said, “Good morning, ser. Tumatakbo ho kayo ng 125.”
Come on, 125 kph?! That’s a 90-year-old grandmother’s driving speed! What’s the big deal? I considered flashing a media ID, but I had done this on only one occasion many, many years ago and at that time, the policeman said, “Ang hirap naman sa inyong mga taga-media, kapag kayo ang naiipit, gusto niyo pagbigyan kayo ng pulis. Pero ’pag pulis ang naipit, inuupakan niyo.” Since then I have never hung a press ID on my rearview mirror, or put a TV network sticker on my windshield. So, on the day I was apprehended for going over the 100-kph limit on Nlex, I thought about playing the media card only fleetingly. Besides, I figured, what’s the worst they could do to me? Give me a ticket? Wrong. They confiscated my driver’s license and told me I would have to go to the LTO central office in Quezon City to redeem it. Argh.
Many of those who hear this story ask me why I didn’t just slip the traffic cop some money. I’d like to say that I have never bribed anyone in my entire life, but, hey, I was young and stupid once. In my old age, however, I am trying very hard to live righteously. Or, maybe, I’m still stupid. If it had been my wife who had been caught, she would have dropped the tiger lady demeanor, put on her mask of charm and quickly convinced the enforcer to let her off with a warning. Alas and alack, I have no charm.
Anyway, a couple of weeks after the Nlex incident, I showed up at the LTO to reclaim my driver’s license. Security guards kept pointing me further into the LTO compound until I saw a tent in a parking lot where I was supposed to get in line to enter the adjudication service building. Except that there was no line. When someone shouted that they were letting people in the building, there was a general rush for the door. Latecomers cut in front of me. Others appeared out of nowhere and jockeyed for position. It was a mess. But then, what did I expect? All of these guys were there precisely because they had violated traffic rules!
Inside the building, we were issued numbers. Mine was 203. Thinking that I was 203rd in some queue and seeing that nobody was being served at the counter yet, I settled in for a long wait. I texted and tweeted and played games on my phone until they started calling out, guess what, names. I never found out what the number was for. The guy who called my name turned out to be a Hearing Officer, and he handed me a document entitled Judgment. Apparently I had been found guilty of reckless driving. The hearing officer had not conducted any hearing. I never got to confront my accuser, never saw the evidence against me and never had the opportunity to speak up in my own defense. My constitutional rights had clearly been violated, but the waiting time had bored me into docility. I was so happy that my name had been called that I was willing to accept anything. So, OK, guilty. My sentence: a P1,277 fine, plus, I had to attend a driving seminar and afterward pass a written exam. Arrgghh.
I went out to tell my driver that we would be at the LTO beyond lunch time because I had already missed the morning session of the seminar and exam. My driver Jhenny (yes, Jhenny) said, “Naku, sir. Kukuha kayo ng exam? Mahirap yan! Bumagsak ako dyan.”
“Ano? Driver ka. Binagsak mo ang driving exam?” I laughed in his face. Defensively, he replied, “40, sir, ang passing score. 39 ako. Nag-take two ako. Pumasa naman ako, sir.” Hahaha.
The seminar consisted of a video on the history, vision and mission of the LTO and some other stuff I committed only to short-term memory, as the exam was scheduled immediately after the seminar. I looked around the seminar room and noticed that all my classmates were men. All appeared to belong to the lower socioeconomic classes. Most were bus, taxi and jeepney drivers who were complaining bitterly about losing a day’s income. I did not see any lawyers or doctors, not even any people who might be lawyers or doctors in disguise.
As the proctors distributed the exam booklets, they asked if anyone wanted the English version of the questions. I raised my hand. I was the only one who did. A little murmur of fear ran through me. What if I failed? It had been decades since I had taken any exam. I reassured myself that I had passed the fricking Bar Exam—four whole Sundays in a row on all the goddam law that had come out of Congress and the Supreme Court since the start of time. I could certainly handle this pop quiz. I buckled down to work and proudly submitted my test paper ahead of everybody else.
There was a long agonizing wait as one examiner checked all our answer sheets against his template. When our names were called one by one, we, candidates for reissuance of driver’s licenses, had to take a long walk down a hall to get our exam results. It was like a graduation ceremony, or a walk of shame. I confidently strode forward, convinced that the LTO guy would raise my hand in victory and announce that I had topped the exam. Instead he simply handed me a slip of paper and and I looked at my score: 42! I had passed. Barely. With a score only three points higher than Jhenny’s.
All told, I lost an entire day to this experience but gained some valuable insights into Philippine society, human relations and life in general:
First, either rich people do not violate the traffic laws or only poor people get punished.
Second, no matter how many degrees and Latin honors you might have, you do not know everything there is to know about driving.
Finally, drive slowly and never laugh at your driver. As the kids say, nowadays karma is digital. Mabilis.
****This incident took place a few years ago. I hope the situation at the LTO has improved since then, but I think the conclusions are still valid. If you have a more recent experience or if you have other insights, please let me know. Join the conversation at thelonglunch1@gmail.com.
1 comment
This made me laugh… Thanks, Dan de Padua!