Soon after Cebu's taxicabs were required to use meters, I began a little journal. Each time I boarded a taxi, I would jot down the plate number, destination, fare and date. It was a simple experiment borne out of a mistrust in taxi drivers when the sabot-sabot system with the erstwhile PU cabs had proven to be disadvantageous to the commuter. I quickly learned how to spot a fast or slow meter.
If I board a taxi in the vicinity of Robinson's and BPI-Mango, the taxi usually turns around Fuente Osmena before the meter registers the initial rate between RCBC and B. Rodriguez St. By the time I reach Private Road, the fare for non-aircon taxis is either P15 or P17. In one case of a very fast meter, it ticked twice before we got out of Fuente. Alarm bells rang in my head when it reached P18 as made the turn to Urgello St. Keeping my cool, I informed the driver his meter was "defective." He calmly advised me to pay my usual fare.
There are really slow meters, too. It only registered P13 when we got home so I gave the driver P15 and told him to have his meter checked. The poor guy was still holding the money and staring at his meter with an open mouth when I got out of his cab.
After several months, I discarded the journal. My little experiment already taught me that seven out of ten taxis have sound meters. Beyond that, I learned that nine out of ten drivers -- legitimate ones, not moonlighting part-timers -- are basically alright. Three out of five won't hesitate to help a passenger unload his baggage. On several occasions when I'm short of one or two pesos, the drivers are surprisingly forgiving.
Unlike haughty security guards, grumpy receptionists and sullen salesgirls, taxi drivers respond more easily to friendly treatment. Get friendly and they become talkative. Taxi drivers are a good source of information about Cebu, its denizens and visitors. Short of revealing names, they like to talk about their passengers. With little prompting, one veteran driver casually enumerated the casa's around the metropolis. When we got to Colon St., he pointed out the hangout of gays, adding that gays give bigger tips to taxi drivers than mamasans.
During one long trip to the airport, our taxi driver popped a tape of ballroom music into his cassette player This prompted a spirited discussion among my parents and I about the merits of Cebu's ballroom dancing venues. He couldn't resist pitching in, said he used to be a dance instructor himself. "Lisod kaayo kay duol ta pirme sa temtasyon," he explained why he quit and turned to driving.
As the number of taxis continued to increase, so does the number of new and inexperienced drivers. A friend and I once got into this taxi whose driver has never heard of Baseline. It turned out he's from Iligan and had been to Cebu for only a month. We had fun pointing out the major thoroughfares and landmarks for him.
It's a different story altogether when one tries to give unsolicited directions to veteran drivers. They feel insulted. They think they know the byways better. Manila drivers, on the other hand, always ask "saan dadaan?" This way if the passenger does not know or speaks with an accent, the driver can take a more roundabout route and extract a higher fare.
Teaching these drivers to understand and observe road signs is a losing battle for our hapless traffic enforcers. On our way to San Jose St. from Gen. Maxilom Ave., the driver positioned the car past the white lines, ignorant of the weight sensors on the road.
The rule "Don't nag, pester or argue with the driver" should be carefully observed when riding a taxi. You've seen how they drive, throwing all caution to the wind, recklessly ignoring road courtesy and violating traffic rules. Imagine what they're like if they're in a bad mood.
When I'm in a dead hurry, I am thankful for them. Trust a taxi driver to find a way out of a tight spot. When I feel up to it, I tag along with them to wriggle out of a traffic jam. And I can always count on a taxi driver to get me to the airport on time. They love that kind of challenge. They can demonstrate their skills with impunity and get tipped by grateful passengers who are only too happy to catch their flight still in one piece. Mention the word "airport" and observe that glint in the eye followed by a rush of adrenaline when they ask you the time of your flight. One driver was clearly disappointed when I waved to him, "take your time, I'm not in a hurry."
Unlike taxi drivers in Manila, the ones in Cebu don't mind taking their passengers on short trips. They also get to their destinations sooner than the passenger expects. See how they drive like mad as soon as a passenger hops into the car. Generally, taxi drivers in Cebu abhor getting stuck in traffic and would always look for the quickest route, not necessarily the shortest. This makes taxis the scourge of the streets. They drive private motorists crazy, they scare the living daylights out of pedestrians and vendors whenever they swish by an inch short of the raised sidewalk.
For this reason, we easily forget they're human, too. That like everyone else they're also trying to earn a living to support their families. Taxi drivers are decent, honest -- though not always law-abiding -- and God-fearing. Many of them adorn their cars with rosaries, crucifixes, and figures of saints. One guy in particular buys a lei of fresh sampaguita every morning for his Sto. Nino altar-cum-dashboard.
Of jeepney drivers and tricycle drivers, now that's another story.