Mang
Alberto and child having dinner along T. M. Kalaw Avenue (left); office
employees have lunch Jalibox food stalls in Makati
(right). Photos
by Dabet Castañeda
Amid
the rise in oil prices and basic commodities, how does a typical Filipino
family make ends meet?
A walk along the streets of Metro Manila (pop.: 10 million) shows
that Filipinos from the lower classes to the upper middle class is feeling
the crunch of the country’s fiscal crisis.
Those
belonging to the D and E classes are the most hit by the crisis.
Along
the streets of Barangay (village) 327 in Sta. Cruz, Manila is a three-storey
house with windows nearly hidden by the clotheslines full of laundry.
Eighteen families live in this house, each of them occupying a
two-by-three meter room and use a common toilet and kitchen.
At
three o’clock in the afternoon, 33-year-old Liza Aldaya sits on a sack
of gravel and sand, waiting for her husband, Cesar, to come home after
selling taho (a popular nutritious snack made from soybean) since
dawn.
Cesar
has to have a capital of P150 (US$2.68 at P56=$1) for the taho he
sells everyday. He earns a minimum of P200 and a maximum of P400 a day.
Liza and Cesar pay P50 a day for room rent inclusive of electricity.
They
spend around P100 for a whole day’s food for their family of five. Their
meals usually consist of fish or vegetables. If five years ago they could
afford to buy a kilo of fish which they budget for the day’s meals, they
could now only afford half a kilo at P30 to P35. Liza said she only buys
cut-up mixed vegetables which can be bought at a cheaper price of P10 per
small plastic bag.
When
Cesar is unable to sell taho for a day due to lack of capital, they
buy cooked food from a turo-turo (food stall).
An order of a vegetable dish costs P10 to P15 while chicken or pork
dish costs P25 to P30.
“Pinagkakasya na lang namin ang isang order” (The dish
is shared by the whole family), she said.
In
2000, they could still buy new clothes, Liza said. Today, she said, they
have to make do with old clothes from relief centers or well-off
neighbors.
Her
eldest child, a first year high school student, had to drop out of school
this year because they could not afford to send him to school. Her second
child is in Kindergarten in a nearby community day care center and spends
P10 a day for baon (provision). Her youngest is only three.
Two
of her neighbors sit on the sidewalk; one doing the laundry and the other
uses a tabo (dipper made of plastic) to get water from a waterpool
created by a cracked water pipeline buried under the pavement.
The
residents said their water have been cut three months ago because the
landlord refuses to pay the water bill. A poso (deep well) has been
put up in front of the house but residents said the water coming out of it
is murky. Thus, for drinking water, they ask neighbors on the next street
to give them some.
But
while Aling Liza’s family can still afford to rent a room for shelter,
many families in Metro Manila have made the sidewalks their home.
Alfredo
Sevilla, 56, lives with his wife and five children along the streets of
T.M. Kalaw Avenue, a street adjacent to Rizal Park in Manila. In 2000, they
left their home in Brgy. Bagong Silang in Novaliches, Quezon City, a
two-hour ride from Manila where livelihood for them was scarce.
Mang
Alfredo makes a living in Kalaw Avenue, a busy street in downtown Manila,
by selling seasonal fruits and cigarettes. Four years ago, he said, he
could earn as much as P500 a day. His family enjoyed three meals a day,
spending P10 for cooked rice and P5 to P10 for lutong ulam. Then
they pay P10 for bathing and another P2 using the toilet in the nearby
public toilet.
But
early this year, their earnings have gone down to P200 a day. Mang Alfredo
said too many families have flocked to the streets to live there and earn
from the same kind of job as Mang Alfredo’s.
When
members of the Metro Manila Development Authority (MMDA) confiscate their
products, their earnings dwindle further down to half. Vendors like Mang
Alfredo used to pay P110 to be able to redeem their products. But now,
they have to give P220, just P20 more than Mang Alfredo’s daily earning.
Thus,
in March, he was forced to bring his three children to an orphanage
because he could no longer afford to send them to school.
Just
a few blocks away from Liza’s Brgy. 327 and a few minutes’ ride away
from Mang Alfredo’s T. M. Kalaw St. is Tayuman St., still part of crowded
Manila, where Shirley dela Cruz, 46, lives with her husband and daughter.
They have a small sari-sari (variety) store and operate two
jeepneys.
From
the passenger jeepneys, they earn P800 a day, while their store brings in
an additional P200 daily. “Mataas ang puhunan pero mababa ang tubo”
(High capital but small income), she said of her earnings.
Their
earnings go to their daily necessities like food, water and electricity.
Each month, they pay around P400 to P500 for water and P1,500 for
electricity.
While
five years ago, they were able to send their elder child to college, the
younger one, who was taking up nursing, stopped going to school last year
because they could not afford her tuition of P22,000 per semester.
Even
the rich
It
isn’t just the lower class that is reeling from the crisis. Bulatlat’s
interview
with an automotive agent shows that a family of eight earning as much as
P160,000 a month has also been severely affected.
Bulatlat
chanced upon Eufemia Arel, 42, an automotive agent and proprietor of
Aramax Marketing, a car dealer, eating lunch along Valero St., Legaspi
Village in the country’s prime business district, Makati City.
Sitting
on the steps of a white van, eating sweetened buko (coconut milk)
with pandan (a type of screwpine used for flavoring) flavored
gelatin for dessert, she just finished lunch bought at a stall called “Jalibox.”
The stall has aluminum sheets for walls and offers lunch packages of P50
each. It
consists of a serving of rice, viand and a piece of banana.
This
kind of food stalls has mushroomed all over Makati the past years. Stall
owners used to load their wares on jeepneys and park them at strategic
corners or near building entrances. The local government however has
disallowed the practice, opting to make them get permanent locations (and
thus be able to tax them).
There
are four Jalibox stalls in Valero St. alone, proving the high demand for
low-priced lunch packages. They provide tight competition to the regular
restaurants that sell P90-meal. Jalibox servers believe they attract more
customers because their prices are cheaper and their products clean. This
gives customers like Arel, who could eat at the higher-priced places if
she wants to, a nice option.
The
economic crisis has made Arel and her family extremely more cautious in
their spending, bringing drastic changes in their lifestyle, particularly
in the last three years.
“Kahit
mga bata naninibago” (Even the children feel the changes), she said.
Her
husband, an engineer, has a monthly salary of P70,000. As an agent, she
herself used to earn from P200,000 to P500,000 a month. But after the
elections this year, her earnings dropped to P80,000 to P100,000 a month.
Arel
said she used to have around 10 successful transactions a month, selling
mostly brand new cars.
But this month, she has sold so far only two secondhand
automobiles.
Most of the clients, she said, could only afford secondhand cars
that cost half the price of brand new ones.
Most
of their earnings go to food and the children’s education. Five years
ago, their family used to spend P10,000 a week for groceries. Today, this
has been cut to half. She also said her five children spend around P3,000
a month for the snacks they take to school and another P3,000 for their
meals at home.
For
schooling, they pay P25,000 a year for each child plus P1,000 a month for
extra curricular activities like ballet and taekwondo lessons.
Before,
Arel said she spent P1,000 a week for new clothes for the children. The
buying sprees however have now been discontinued, too. She says she is
already teaching the younger ones to use hand-me-downs from their elder
siblings.
“Pwedeng mag-cut sa damit pero sa pagkain, hindi”
(Expenses for clothes can be reduced but not with food), she said.
If
before her children’s birthday parties were held at popular fastfood
chains, costing her P30,000 above, their parties are now done at home.
She
had to give up a lot of her personal luxuries, too.
She said she has not gone to a parlor in months, and her metallic
orange nail polish was already peeling off. Her family has also shied away
from the malls whereas before, they would spend around P3,000 in just one
day in a mall.
Arel
lamented that she could not even avail of a health card worth P150,000 to
cover medical emergencies of family members.
Arel
also noted that the high cost of living has also caused a higher crime
rate, narrating how loan syndicates have victimized her twice.
The
walk around Metro Manila illustrated how much the Filipino people suffer
everyday, regardless of their social status.
With the prices of basic commodities perpetually rising, the
Filipino people have no choice but to tighten their belts some more. (With
additional research by Angie de Lara) Bulatlat
