A Local’s Take On Baguio’s Recent Taxi Fare Increase

The recent increase in taxi fares definitely shook the community of Baguio City. More than a tourist hub, Baguio is home to students, a growing workforce, locals who mostly rely on PUVs, along with a very small percentage of the elite who would probably blink twice about the hike.

Manong, Bayad po

Having the Php 2.00 travel time rate, and Php 13.50 per kilometer additional charge on the flag down rate nearly doubles the fare this town has been accustomed to. It doesn’t end there; jeepneys are clamoring a hike, too.

As a response to the uproar of jeep drivers to increase the fares, which is being currently being processed, LTFRB released a statement as read in the Baguio Midland Courier. They review concepts of changes and how it affects the community even before rolling out the said changes.

To a child who grew up in Baguio for most of his life, like me, I have experienced firsthand how the meter hiked up and down the slopes of this small town. As a student who had the customary P100.00-baon in his college years, having to take a taxi due to some emergency was never a worry, even in days when the roads were congested.

Hail a cab now in the rough-and-tumble streets of Baguio and be prepared for a ride. On a good day where people can actually walk to where they need to be and traffic isn’t as heavy—say, from home to work—the increase might seem minimal.

Come the monsoons of June and July where everyone is fighting for manong to pick them up, the roads jam-packed with the hustle, bustle and the guzzle of vehicles, and you might find yourself flinching with every tick of the meter.

Here is when I actually think: Was this price hike studied well?

In our daily lives, we cannot avoid to be late or be in a rush, hence, we must take a taxi to our destination to make it convenient, to not hear a mouthful from our boss, to avoid being late—or, worse, absent—marks in our subjects in school.

To even consider the rising population here in Baguio, you can feel it through traffic—the influx of vehicles in densely commercialized areas (which is to say, almost everywhere). Where traffic used to give you a headache, now it leaves a hole in your pocket.

With a big frown on my face, I ponder how to survive yet another day. What does it even mean to budget your money if your inadequate salary or allowance that you even begged for your parents to add is only enough for a day or week through riding the jeepney?

Along with the pitter-patter of the rain, a cacophony of thoughts like, ”There goes my meal for the day,” or, “How do I cut my losses?” run through my mind. Punctuality is rarely the answer—not in this tiny town with narrow roads, at least.

I once rode a taxi where the meter ticked the second manong driver pulled over to drop me off. I’m pretty sure he heard my guts wrenching over the tires screeching on the asphalt.

What I think about the NEDA 10,000 monthly budget

Recently, NEDA came up with a survey that yielded results, handing a hypothetical example that P10,000 pesos were enough for a household of five to get by, monthly. This is taking into account the budget for the commute.

Whoever came up with that number must have fallen asleep midday and smashed his face on the keyboard. It would work for a single person, perhaps, but definitely not five heads. Or they could at least give a realistic example.

A Peep Through the People’s Looking Glass

To consider the fact that other people are buried in debt or living through debt, how can progress occur when a huge part of it is already hindered by this taxi fare increase?

To tackle a topic too complex is a pointless effort—not when I have piled up bills to pay, not when I’m cutting corners to make ends meet, not when it’s raining and I’m forced to choose between braving the storms barefoot or breaking my piggy bank.