Disaster magnets
Driving back to Manila from Bolinao in Pangasinan on Black Saturday afternoon, traffic crawled along the highway starting in Alaminos all the way to the next town, Sual.
The reason? Motorists stopped for fresh and dried seafood at a roadside talipapa in Sual, on one side set up along the narrow shore. Everything was overpriced. I’m not sure if it was just because demand for seafood spikes during Lent, or the locals always try to squeeze as much as they can from travelers throughout the year.
That traffic should goad the government to widen at least that road segment, or perhaps develop a seaside area for vending so fishmongers, consumers and motorists just passing through can go about their respective businesses with minimal disruption. With so many fatal road accidents caused by defective vehicle brakes, it’s also good for hawkers to keep a safe distance from highways.
The horrid traffic must have added about an hour and a half to our drive. By the time we reached Camiling in Tarlac, darkness had spread. Which can be dangerous when driving along Romulo Highway, the main road linking Tarlac and Pangasinan, since there are no lights throughout much of the 77.2-kilometer road.
Many years ago the driver of someone I know, who was driving at night along the highway from Manila to the Ilocos Region, struck a kuliglig and killed two persons. The homicide was settled out of court and the driver stayed out of prison.
The kuliglig – not a cicada, but a two-wheeled trailer pulled by a small, two-wheeled, motorized tractor – is a popular mode of transporting people and crops in the provinces. The kuliglig moves slowly, but its drivers have a propensity to drive the contraption across highways, seemingly believing that speeding vehicles would always avoid hitting them, which makes fatal accidents such as the one I mentioned pretty common.
Avoiding a kuliglig obviously becomes harder in a road without lights. By the time the headlights of a vehicle traveling at 120 kilometers per hour catches the kuliglig crossing the highway, it’s usually too late.
* * * There are many stories of fatal accidents involving kuligligs. But people continue to take them for the same reason that commuters still risk riding in that symbol of corruption and incompetence under daang matuwid, the Metro Rail Transit 3: there are few alternatives.
Transport operators are businessmen; they need to turn a profit to keep the business viable. They want transport franchises in routes with high population densities, not in mountain villages where their drivers also risk being shaken down by armed New People’s Army extortionists.
In areas where there are few jeepney or bus rides, people will take whatever conveyance is available, including kuligligs and carabao-drawn carts. They don’t mind squeezing into packed buses, and they are ready to risk their necks sitting on jeepney rooftops together with crops, chickens and goats to reach their destination. Never mind if the bus or jeepney is clearly dilapidated and begging for retirement; fatalism runs deep in our country. What will be, will be.
The risk of brakes failing in old, poorly maintained vehicles rises with overcrowding, when the vehicle is burdened with more than it can carry. Compounded by unsafe roads, such public transport vehicles are inviting disaster.
* * * Traveling outside Metro Manila during the Holy Week break, I was again reminded of how unsafe land transportation can be in our country.
In many areas, dirt roads have been replaced by concrete pavement, but basic devices for safe driving are lacking even in tourist destinations.
Our bridges and highways including the Romulo Highway lack cat’s eyes and similar devices to guide drivers at night. Steep, winding mountain roads lack sturdy railings or concrete posts. These may not be enough to keep a speeding bus with defective brakes from hurtling into a ravine, but slower vehicles might be saved.
Not too long ago I visited Sagada, driving from the Banaue Rice Terraces in Ifugao through Bontoc. It was disappointing to see houses blocking the spectacular view on the mountain pass from Nueva Vizcaya leading to the Banaue town center. Equally disappointing was the poorly managed development of Bontoc, with its slopes starting to look like congested, polluted, forest-stripped Baguio City.
But I was pleasantly surprised to find the road from Banaue to Sagada much improved, making the trip faster through one of the best mountain sceneries in the country. The winding road, however, lacked safety barriers in many areas. Locals warned visitors against traveling at night, not only because there were no lights but also because rebel extortionists operated in the area.
There must be road safety standards that every civil engineer is required to know, and which contractors must meet before they get full payment for any road project. Do national agencies or local government units omit some safety specs in awarding projects to cut costs? Do contractors scrimp on safety devices? Or do contractors cut corners because a hefty chunk of the project cost goes to paying fat commissions to crooks in government?
Many areas in the country, like Bolinao, have benefited immensely from the tourism that resulted from the construction of highways, paved town roads and bridges. Getting to these destinations is truly half the fun; long drives can be a pleasant experience. But fun need not mean endangering lives.