Ang mga dayo
A funny thing happened on the way home this early morning.
Around 2AM, SO and I got on the jeep en route to home. At the corner of Meralco and Ortigas Ave., 4 foreigners — one guy and 3 girls — got on the jeep. Pretty noisy bunch, guess it was their first time to ride a jeep. They even took pictures of themselves inside the jeep.
We were already cruising past Medical City when the girl beside me instigated a sort-of conversation:
She: Do you speak English?
Me: Yes.
She: Where are we going?
Me: Binangonan, Rizal.
She: Where?
Me: Binangonan. Rizal.
She: Is this going to pass Crowne Plaza?
Me: Uh, no.
So there. They almost got lost. Adventurous tourists. Why didn’t they have a local tour guide with them?
We told the driver to drop them off someplace they could ride a taxi. They got off at Rosario. Another guy (he looked pretty sleepy that time) got off the same stop and helped them find a cab.
Sheesh, if they didn’t ask where the jeep was going, they’d arrive at Binangonan without a clue how to get back to their hotel. What’s bad is that there are a lot of poeple who’ll take advantage of you for being a dayo. I’m not generalizing, but you know, you should learn from the movies Turistas and Hostel. Just my point.
