Even though this man has a new motorcycle, he doesn’t seem happy. He seems worried, uncertain, expecting something bad. That may be, but for certain he would be even more upset without the motorcycle under him.
There are more motorcycles in Dumaguete than in any other city; thousands of them, crowding the slow streets by day, racing down the empty streets by night, shattering all ears with hideous ripping noises.
And motorcycles are not just for the young, either: old people on bikes are common enough. Even more common are entire families- mommy, daddy, and little kids: all precariously balanced on one machine- and all of them without helmets. This helps to keep the local hospital busy.
These motorcycles fill the air with fuel fumes and dirty gases; they leak and spray dirty oil on the streets. Rubber dust from their tires kills plants along the roadside. altogether, motorcycles are an ecological nightmare, an environmental disaster. Perhaps they should be restricted. After all-
Motorcycles are expensive to buy and maintain; and very few people here can afford to pay cash; so they buy on credit and end up paying twice the purchase price in added interest. And gasoline isn’t cheap either. So then-
Why are these motorcycles so popular? Why is it that everybody wants, needs, must have one, at almost any cost? Why not consider the social price? Why not take pedicabs and jeeps, or just walk, for wellness?
For freedom. Effortless, individual freedom. To know that you can move freely in life, go wherever you want, whenever you want, with whomever you choose- that is freedom, that is liberty, that is being master of what surrounds you, master of your own life. It is worth almost any sacrifice.
Most people here lead restricted lives- low wages, high costs, hold them down financially; social pressures nail them down to the whims and demands of those above them, even within their own families.
Like the man in this picture- he seems to be concerned; perhaps he’s waiting for something that might not happen, someone who might not appear, some obligation that he might not be able to pay. But when he finally rides away, all those things will be left behind him in the wind:
“This is to be good, great and joyous, beautiful and free;
This alone is Life, Joy, Empire, and Victory”
