During some long weekends, like Holy Week, Labor Day, or the week between Christmas and New Year, you might have found yourself home here in Metro Manila while everyone else was out of town. In truth, when I’ve found myself in the city at a time like this, rather than feeling FOMO, I’ve found a renewed sense of wonder.
For one, there’s less traffic. And that translates to less lines at establishments, which means the baristas and waiters are less rushed or stressed and more likely to be more attentive, leading to a good, insightful conversation. Related to this, the ambiance of a gallery, bookshop, cinematheque, park or bistro really comes through when it’s less crowded, and equally so, the quality of time spent with whoever you’re with—family, friends, a special someone—is more pronounced.
As such, it’s in times like these when I realize what Metro Manila can be if it’s decongested, sans a pandemic, of course. Ang liit pala, ang lapit-lapit lang pala ng mga pook. The city only seems vast because of the heavy vehicular traffic that plagues it most days of the year.
The theory of relativity
I heard back in the day, in the 1960s, you could see Cubao from Katipunan Avenue, and Intramuros from Cubao.
“It’s just one kilometer, isn’t that walking distance? You’re going to book a ride for that?” Some might ride a tricycle or jeep if that’s what budgets allow. I know I’ve had to do so. I’ve noticed too how the barker calls for stops barely 500 meters from each other.
Well, one kilometer along a languid, white sand beach obviously feels different from one kilometer down EDSA, cutting through jackhammers kicking up concrete dust amid falling debris, smoke-belching trucks with engines long overdue for an emissions test, and cracked sidewalks eaten by too-large electric poles or pungent puddles.
I’ve heard that today’s most walkable cities and neighborhoods, from Amsterdam to parts of Taipei, Tokyo, and Seoul were once smoke-choked and car-centric concrete jungles with barely any greenery, too. Now imagine that in our hot and humid tropical climate and you have what’s called a heat sink.
Look at it this way: Another diskarte I’ve developed working almost a decade in Metro Manila is to base commute routes not on total price, not even on shorter distances, but sometimes on which public transport modes have air conditioning, especially in the morning, even if it means taking a more circuitous route. I save the “sweatier modes” like jeeps and trikes from when I’m heading home, without the pressure to appear, to smell, fresh.
Here, I also plan out my “commute walks” based on a combination of what trees are there, what mall sections have air conditioning, and yes, which suki eateries are friendly enough to let me refill my water. Have you noticed how over the last two decades, malls have swapped (free!) water refill stations in their food courts for bottled water?
If cities like Taipei, Tokyo, and Seoul were able to learn, hopefully we do too, and it seems the sporadic initiatives at car-free mornings or whole streets pedestrianized seems to be a good sign
So yes, I could walk one kilometer, but not to a client meeting in our metropolitan heat sink.
Still, if the above cities were able to learn, hopefully we do too, and it seems the sporadic initiatives at car-free mornings or whole streets pedestrianized seems to be a good sign.
Layers of privilege
Recently, my run club finished a long one in May weather. I’m not sure how we did it, last I checked, sacrificing bulls to the elder gods isn’t as effective as lighting sage incense in 2025.
As we nursed our (black) coffees (the best post-morning workout painkiller if you ask me), we shared stories about other long runs. The topic came to inter-city runs and we noticed it was mostly the guys relaying adventures here. Right, they never had to map out a route where they had to consider cat-calling (and from those on vehicles, too).
I’m sure it’s not just me who’s observed guy friends wax poetic about “the joys of flannery” or idle walking while the girlies nod silently, stealing knowing glances at each other now and then, emblems of patience and forbearance.
If walkability is a challenge for all aspiring flaneurs in metropolises around the Philippines, what more for female pedestrians? The ability to explore and solo travel has the underbelly of gender-based privilege. All this gets more complex when you factor in the presence of supposedly PWD-friendly or elderly-friendly infrastructure which is anything but.
Of course, we still cheer on those, especially PWDs and elderly folk, who intentionally climb Mt. Everest ,Kamuning, Cubao. Don’t let anything hinder you from achieving what others can and competing with them, friend!
Schrodinger’s street cat
Given what one kilometer means in cities within Metro Manila, I won’t be surprised if there exists data (even from undergraduate studies) tracking the incidences of, say, respiratory illness among jeep drivers, traffic enforcers, and commuters, comparing their lungs to that of smokers.
We’ve all likely read about the billions of pesos lost daily to traffic, and if you count the gasoline and maintenance spent per car per hour of traffic, the aforementioned healthcare costs per person on the road, and add to that the lost productivity and work hours from everyone, it can check out.
If anything, on the other side of these challenges, lie solutions. Can we walk the distance towards a truly walkable, green, and equitable metropolis?
Suppose you don’t really care about parks and reducing global warming, or the health of citizens and employees, suppose what you really wanted was the bottom line (at least we’re honest with ourselves, right?). It’s still in your best interest to advocate for greener, walkable, car-free (or less-car) cities.
If anything, on the other side of these challenges, lie solutions. Can we walk the distance towards a truly walkable, green, and equitable metropolis?
Well, this is Metro Manila, if I can make it here, I can make it anywhere, right, Alicia Keys?