Topload Passengers of the Mountain Province
I’ve always pictured toploading to be liberating and smooth sailing. I found out that the latter is negotiable. We were on a dirt road a few miles up a mountain. The trip down to the highway was treacherous; getting jostled by uneven surface and constant bumps was painful… in the behind.
Interweaving with the usual sound of rural mornings and the revving of engines were the clamors of people’s laughter. Coming down the forest slope we gripped so tightly at the handle bars of the topload shelf. Apparently, happiness can be found from almost getting thrown overboard a jeepney.
With its ridiculously overjoyed passengers, the jeep’s tires finally thumped concrete and the road balanced out. The din was soon replaced by a serene appreciation of the unsullied landscape.
Then a discussion about where to eat breakfast.
I apologize for the picture. I have an aversion to posting images bearing my face and the faces of people in my circle.