How my father learned to drive

Me and my father

by Susan Palmes-Dennis

This is a story of how my father (tatay) became a great driver without having to own a car. He was already driving at an early age thanks to all the past jeepney owners in my birthplace of Tagoloan town, Misamis Oriental in northern Mindanao, Philippines.  

I learned all these stories just recently from him as I spent two weeks at the family home there in the middle of July this year.  

I had a grand time conversing with my father Semeon Barros Naelga over a cup of coffee and “bingala” (cassava rice cake). Did I tell you that he is a driver first and a farmer second? 

He is the best at both of these trades, though. He has driven jeepneys, trucks and cars in his lifetime. In his childhood, he drove vehicles even if his family had no jeep.

This didn't stop him from dreaming I guess and he waited for opportunities to drive even other people's vehicles. At the time, there were jeep owners who rented their vehicles.

His story
I thought renting out a jeepney is being done nowadays but his stories tell me otherwise. I asked him if he was sure about his stories and he would answer by giving me that look that showed he is sure of what he's talking about.

To believe otherwise would mean the end of our lively conversation.  I can tell he searched his mind for a long time as he caught his breath and I know he was ready to tell his story. 

He said the first jeepneys that he managed to rent were those owned by Iyo (Uncle) Naking Cosin. He said Naking Cosin was married to a  Seno. 

I remember that one of the sons of Naking Cosin was married to the late Jenia Valdehuesa. Sure I recalled Naking Cosin--he was a businessman.

I couldn't exactly point out how much I remembered though. Could be I was still in my Nanay (mother's) womb or I was still a little girl then.   

Fare 
But the next jeep owner he mentioned was only a reminder of  memorable moments about it that are not only visions but images. Those good memories in my childhood. 

The next jeep owner was Iyo Telo as in Othelo Emano. Now, Iyo Telo I can remember. Othelo Emano’s house is strategically located in what is now fronting the manok (chicken) dealers at the other side of the highway. 

The old house is now, I think, a pharmacy and faces the store of my classmate Rolando Emano. Iyo Telo is the father of my Home Economics teacher Marilou who married my arithmetic teacher Ray Abejo. 

The late Othelo Emano is the younger brother of the father of former Misamis Oriental governor and former Cagayan de Oro City Mayor Vicente Emano.  But back to my father's story:

He rented the jeep at P7 a day. Wow, P7 a day you can’t beat that. But at that time that was a huge amount. My father told me that fare for adults going to Cagayan de Oro at the time was 20 centavos and it was 10 centavos for students. 

Memorable
This jeep, I recall, isn't as big as it is today. It's half of that size with a seating capacity of six people on each side I think with three people in the front including the driver. 

I remembered those days when my mother and I would be seated at the front as we headed to Cagayan de Oro. That was the time when I imagined how it felt good to own the jeep as I sat in the front with my parents. 

That in a way was how I felt because my father rented the jeep from Iyo Telo so technically it was ours for a day.

I previously said that going to Cagayan de Oro was one of my more memorable moments since everytime we go there my mother and I would visit Ludenas store to buy ready-made dresses.

Sorry, I forgot to ask my father how many times he has to go back to Cagayan de Oro and Tagoloan daily. Those trips honed his driving skills but my father admitted that there were days he couldn't drive since he was drunk at times.   

Detour
Then he mentioned the third jeep owner named Lucas Remolador who's married to Nang Udiang. Nang Udiang and Nong Lucas are the parents of the Remoladors like Rustica and Pilar.

My father also said that Lucas Remolador was one of the best mechanics in Tagoloan town. I knew the house of the Remoladors in barangay (village) Natumulan a few meters away from the house of Tio Memen Nemecio Neri. 

That was the time when barangay Natumolan from Centro can be reached via  short cut and you can still see coconut trees and fruit trees without the shanties that now dot the area.

Nowadays, we have to find the road because even a road right-of-way is a thing of the past. Sorry for the detour in my story.  

Eventually my father became a truck driver of Del Monte Philippines and he delivered pineapples from Bukidnon province to the Bugo Cannery. He had lots of stories about the kapre (giants) in Mangima, Bukidnon. 

Crossing the river
My father got his own car in later years given to him by his brother Mauro. Oh, how he loved it even if the car's body was deteriorating (kagangkagang.) 

At this time I asked him where did he learn to drive exactly since our family didn't own any vehicle. 

He gave me quite a lengthy story not only of how exactly he learned how to drive but a history of Tagoloan town so I ask you to bear with me as I go along with his account of what the old town was then.

My Lolo (grandfather) Felix “Ingge” Quilang Naelga worked in the “balsa”  and had my father as his buddy. Since there was no bridge from Centro to barangay Sta. Cruz  a “balsa’ was used. 

A balsa is a raft made of bamboo poles and rattan tied up together and uses a long piece of wood usually made of bamboo as a tool for crossing the river.   The balsa as he described it must be big to accommodate everything. 

Memorized
The balsa was used to ferry “isda, kahoy, lugit (fish, wood, rope) and passengers,” he said. The passengers are from Gingoog City and Malitbog, Bukidnon areas and the fare is free only if they hand carry their own items. 

The balsa navigates the Tagoloan river and the captain learns to navigate through the current. It cannot be used when the water level rises so the truck drivers would pay extra money to my grandfather to watch over the vehicles parked at his home.

Since it could not be transported to the river bank it was up to my grandfather to do something about it and my father watched how grandfather would start the ignition and park the vehicles to the front of the house. 

My father would drive the vehicles without grandfather's permission at times and he was scolded for it. He didn't mind it and told me that he memorized how to drive and the parts that went into these vehicles.

My father would observe how grandfather would drive the truck. He has no formal training as a mechanic or as a driver but eventually he taught himself how to brake, take out and attach the tires and so on. 

Salute
This started his love for jeepneys, my father said. A chance to drive these vehicles came when his cousins, the sons of Jesus Barros, would find means to skip classes so they would wash the trucks of “Gimpang Lim” (I hope I remember the name right). 

His cousins didn't like school and would hang out with my father and invited him to work with them in delivering the gravel (grabas) if he wanted to learn how to drive.

My father joined them, not because he didn't like school but he wanted to learn how to drive. He said they were among the laborers who worked on the pier of what is now Gingoog City.

He said they would deliver the sand and gravel to the construction site but there were times he had to do it alone because his cousins were too drunk at the time. They didn't even ask him if he knew how to drive nor if he had a license.

My father said he got nervous whenever he passes a policeman but his fears were unfounded since the cop would salute him. He said the truck bore the message “government projects do not delay.”

Humble
My father and his cousins stayed in Gingoog for several months and while his cousins were busy learning the tricks of drinking a lot of “tuba” (coconut wine) my father was busy honing his skills as a driver. 

My father went back home to Tagoloan as a confident young driver a year later. He applied for a license and he drove the vehicle owned by Naking Cosin who had no driver at the time. 

This is the (admittedly very long) story of how my father learned to drive and the people who helped him learn how to drive. My father is still of sound mind but the years have slowed him down physically.  

Still, I learned a valuable lesson and that is to never stop dreaming and live your dream, however humble it may be.

My father and I with family

(Susan Palmes-Dennis is a veteran journalist from Cagayan de Oro City, Misamis Oriental, Northern Mindanao in the Philippines who worked as a nanny and is now employed as a sub-teacher and a part-time teacher assistant in one of the school systems in the Carolinas.

Read her blogs on susanpalmesstraightfrom the Carolinas.com and at http://www.blogher.com/myprofile/spdennis54. These and other articles also appear at http://www.sunstar.com.ph/author/2582/susan-palmes-dennis.
You can also connect with her through her Pinterest account at http://www.pinterest.com/pin/41025046580074350/) and https://www.facebook.com/pages/Straight-from-the-Carolinas-/494156950678063)