Barking at the barkers

bark•er (bär-kər) a person who stands at the entrance of an establishment especially movie houses or theaters and tries to attract customers to it.

In the Philippines, barkers call the attention of passengers towards public utility vehicles like cabs, buses and jeepneys. Not only do they make the job of drivers a bit easier by saving the latter’s throat from hollering whole day, they also help commuters locate PUV terminals and inform them about a PUV’s destination.

You can’t expect barkers to exert so much effort without asking for anything in return. Back then, they live on tips from drivers who are grateful for their assistance, but nowadays, it seems like everyone is mandated to pay them for the service they rendered, and that is where the problem lies.

A few months ago, I was in Pasay to visit a diagnostic center and undergo medical examination. Since I just underwent surgery due to a torn ACL, I had to take a cab. After a few minutes of waiting, a cab was eventually coming my way. As I approached the vehicle, a barker got to it before I could (ACL tears weren’t meant to make you faster). The barker, a man, opened the door for me, but before letting me board the cab, he asked for money. I ignored him, thinking that he understood my gesture meant I didn’t have bread to spare (I don’t carry a lot of cash with me, and besides, I do that to beggars and they know the drill). The barker didn’t let me inside the cab, insisting that I should I give him money first. I got mad because my left knee was already hurting, so I bursted and said, “Why should I give you money when it was I who hailed the taxi?” in Filipino.

He eventually gave in and I got inside the cab. But being the persistent fellow he is, he tried to extort some money from the cab driver but before their conversation could eat more of our time, the driver sped off leaving the barker empty handed.

This incident got me thinking, what are barkers for anyway? Because from where I stand, I just don’t see the need for them.

The relationship of commuters and PUV drivers is a mutual one as they need each other in order to survive the urban jungle. Hardworking drivers will always come along to pick-up passengers who are willing to pay. And commuters will always look for a ride in order to get to work or any other destination.

So while a barker’s assistance is appreciated, it’s not necessary especially when unsolicited.

Barkers demand money from people they help and get something as low as Php 1 to something as high as Php 20 in return. In some parts of Metro Manila, some barkers would be insulted if given anything smaller than a five peso coin. And since barkers usually work in groups, refusing them could get you in trouble.

So aside from basic needs, boundary fee, gasoline expenses, muggers, traffic violation fines and toll gate fees, a PUV driver has to worry about barkers which I don’t find fair.

In a time when multitasking is a trend, it’s hard to believe that drivers can’t do what barkers are doing. I mean, attracting passengers is not that difficult, especially when their looking for a ride in the first place. In PUV terminals, signs already indicate the respective destinations of every jeep or bus, so obviously, there’s no need to wail “Quiapo” or “Baclaran”. Why pay someone for something you could do, or to put it in another way, why pay a barker for doing something that doesn’t need to done?

And while I make them sound like leeches, barkers take pride in what they’re doing. I do understand them from the at-least-we’re-not-stealing-from-others perspective, but being a barker is not something one should consider as a job or a source of income.

As implied in my story earlier, one could see barkers as beggars, or worse, extortionists. Demanding money which they’re not entitled to in the first place, providing service not requested or required, such is the life of our Pinoy barkers.

Yesterday, at around 6:00 p.m., after getting off from the MRT at the Quezon Ave. Station, I saw a cab. As I approached the vehicle, I barely noticed that there was boy waving at me while I dragged my feet towards the taxi. Since the boy was beside the cab and had some coins in hand, I had a feeling he was a barker. I boarded the cab with no problems. “This wasn’t your typical barker,” I said to myself. After all, the kid’s still got a long way to go. But before the driver could step on the pedal, I saw the kid asking money from the driver. With his youthful charm, the boy got his way with the driver and scored more coins.

Alas, another extortionist in the making. When will Filipino barkers get a real job?