Got a tip? Send it to us at manila@coconuts.co.
On what would turn out to be my last 30 minutes at the Land Transportation Office in Pasig, I found myself reading a dude’s text message to “Babes”.
“Tsaka ka na magparenew ng lisensya mo. Ang dami-daming tao,” I watched him type. “Ang init-init pati. Kawawa ka dito.” He sent his thoughtful message, shut close the black leather case of his huge Samsung phone, and took out a towel to wipe his perspiring face.
I wanted to borrow his towel and wipe my face. It was already past 1pm, I had been in this shithole since 9:30am, and with all my batteries dead, I was bored, annoyed, and sweaty.
I lost my license on a trip and because that’s one government ID welcomed by offices everywhere, I quickly acted on getting a duplicate. I knew I needed the following: an ID, a photocopy of that ID, and a notarized affidavit of loss.
What I didn’t know was that several LTO mall locations were closed because they were being renovated — all at the same time. The result? Bigger crowds at main branches like the one in Pasig, which in turn moved at a slower, almost glacial pace.
On a normal day, getting a duplicate license usually just takes 30 minutes, an hour tops. On the day I went to get mine, it took me more than four soul-sucking hours.
It started with a long line at the entrance welcoming one and all. A makeshift sign said it was a public assistance and complaints desk, so I ignored it and skimmed through the very many windows that were arranged to give an OC person a heart attack. I was looking for Window number 1 to do step 1 of the process.
Apparently, that complaints desk was step one. It serviced everyone: license renewal of both professional and non-professional drivers, applications for student permits, and those who needed their licence duplicates. As I would learn later on, it’s going to be like this all throughout the process. A practice on democracy with very little rhyme or reason.
I showed the LTO officer my documents, filled out a form, and got a number. When I asked what will happen next, he half-waved, half-pointed me to the left side of the office: “Ah, eh, you wait for your number to get called.”
The left side of the office looks like a bank lobby, with a row of tellers and a seating area that can drive any ordinary OC person mad. The metal seating, typical to airports, faces the wall, not the tellers so that when you sit down, the tellers are on your right.
Next, window numbers are not arranged properly. Windows 1 and 8 are right smack in the middle, opening outward, like a blossoming flower: to the left, the numbers moved from 1, to 2 and so on until Window 7, where ID photos are taken. From Window 8, they moved to the right, all the way to Window 11.
Notice the window numbers
At the other side of the complaints desk are Windows 12 to 16. Save for the two windows for the cashier, many of them were closed. The seating at this part of the office faced the right way, at least.
The LTO office opens at 8am and closes at 5pm daily. When I arrived at 9:30am, I was already number 95 and the waiting area was already crowded.
With the idea that it was going to be a breezy affair, I ignored the few vacant seats still available and proudly stood in front of the fan, never mind that there were signs saying standing was prohibited. Then I heard the next number called out: 38. I ate my pride, got my computer from the car, and decided to work instead.
Inefficiency at any government office was almost always given anyway, so I squeezed myself between two delivery drivers and got to work. Occasionally, I’d hear LTO officers call out reminders, but I paid them no mind.
By the time my computer hit 30% battery life, I looked up and I was surprised to see that the waiting area was already at choke point. At 11am, even the posts, which bore the “no standing sign”, had comfortable tenants leaning on them. I thought I heard my number called so I went to Window 2. The lady at the counter, Susan, looked surprised when I called her by her name. She did a double check on me, looked at my papers and told me to wait again.
With my seat quickly taken, I stood among the many renewal applicants who took the day off just to accomplish this task. “Hindi rin naman ako makakamaneho so nag-day-off na lang ako para magawa ito,” Rey told me. He expected it will take an entire day just to renew his license.
Time check: 12pm
I was told the next step was to get my ID photo taken so I positioned myself near Window 7. At least it’s not that crowded, I consoled myself. As it turned out, it wasn’t crowded because that portion of the office stank like the toilets above it. According to someone who came from the john, “Walang tubig.”
This area wasn’t very crowded because it didn’t smell too good. God bless the people able to withstand the smell.
I moved back near to Tita Susan’s window, where I learned that duplicate applications need not to go through Window 7. Just a few minutes later, she passed me back my papers and told me to go to the cashier. It was around 12pm.
Of course it wasn’t that simple. The two-step procedure (get your papers checked before paying) had yet another line. Here, we lined up sitting down so that every few seconds, we’d stand up, move a seat, and sit again. It was tiring, but at least I wasn’t sedentary.
By 12:45pm, I handed PHP500 to pay for the PHP472.63 bill. I expected him to hand me my license in return, but no. He told me I needed to go back to the circus on left side of the office and wait — again — for my license card to be released. That’s when I got impatient, eavesdropped on people and turned voyeur to read the message meant for “Babes”.
I heard Korean nationals talking to each other in broken English, saying it was much faster in Megamall. Somebody else scoffed at the system of LTO: Why renovate mall branches all at the same time? Another said out loud what I had been thinking all along: Bakit lahat ng uri ng application sama-sama at sabay-sabay? And still another: Alam naman nating lahat kung gaano sila kabilis mag-trabaho.
Waiting game: still very strong. Time check: 1pm
I started comparing notes with the lady beside me. She arived at the LTO office at 11:30am and was number 155. I arrived at 9:30am and was number 95. That meant 60 people were serviced in two hours. “Pansinin mo, limang katao every 30 minutes,” she said.
That was already 1:30pm. I told her, maybe we also need to consider all the usual things that often go wrong in an office: computers that hang, employees who need to take a piss, the boss getting mad, emergency calls. She only smirked at my remark.
My license card was finally released a little past 1:30pm, almost 2pm. I told myself, at least they had the license card ready and didn’t require me to come back again to retrieve the card.
I left feeling sorry for myself and for everybody else who need to go through this. At least Babes got a warning.
Reader Interactions