New EDSA: Melts when wet

One successful project walks into another successful project and they start mugging each other. Very government.

We propose a reasonable solution. A roof over EDSA. Monumento to Roxas Boulevard. Waterproof. Maybe yellow. Maybe DPWH orange. Maybe gutters, too. Curtains during typhoons. Giant “Do not get wet” signs. During habagat, motorists can wipe their tires before entering.

Then we roof the flood control projects. They work wonderfully when there’s no flood. Drainage systems are magnificent on sunny days. Pumping stations perform beautifully when there is nothing particularly unpleasant to pump.

Cars are terrible for roads. Heavy things. Constantly driving on them. Get the buses out. Even heavier.

Take those away and you would be amazed at the quality of our public works.

P80 billion. P100 billion, give or take. Expensive? DPWH had already suggested the budget version: “Dapat na-anticipate na natin ‘to.” Ahh, anticipation.

Anticipate. Rain. In the Philippines.

We don’t know who the next President will be. Could be anybody. Terrifying thought. But one thing we know: It’s going to rain. Absolutely.

You built the road in the Philippines. What were you expecting? An asteroid?

Rain does the same thing every year. It falls from the sky. Then somehow, every August, we act shocked when roads in the country start looking like they were bombed.

What’s weird is that, stand beside one of those potholes on EDSA and look up. There it is. The other Philippines.

Glass towers. Condominiums. Hotels. Malls 20, 30 years old. Still standing. Still beautiful. Roofs somehow informed about rain. Storm hits Shangri-La: nothing.

Then look down. Same rain. Concrete. Very suspicious. We just seem to become much better engineers when the building is owned by Andrew Tan.

Two countries occupying the same street. One gets polished every morning. The other gets patched after every rainy season.

No one can say Filipinos don’t know how to build. Ridiculous. We can build a 50-story tower with an infinity pool cascading off the side. People are drinking cocktails up there. Nobody is screaming. But cascading water on the road into a hole called a drain?

The private Philippines keeps showing us what the public Philippines could be.

You drive down a public road and right beside you there’s a condo driveway. Smooth. Perfect. Not a crack. Then the driveway ends where the road begins. Bam! Government. How does the road know? There’s no sign. Nobody told the asphalt. But somehow it reaches the property line and says: “OK, enough quality.”

And people keep saying, “Look at Japan. Singapore.”

Why? Look two feet to your right. We already have Singapore. Then you cross over one gutter and you’re back in the Philippines.

We know how to build a good road. Apparently, we just know exactly where to stop.

So you get fantastic at living with bad roads. You hit the pothole once, you blame government. Twice, you remember it. Third pothole, you blame yourself, “Idiot. Left lane.”

Wait. I’m the idiot now?

The road stays broken. You improve. You know every hole by heart. Where to slow down, where to swerve, which puddle is lying to you, the crater before the flyover.

You see orange barriers: “They’re fixing it!” Exciting. They’re fixing the thing they fixed after fixing it.

Then one day the barriers are gone. The road is smooth. You feel grateful. You paid for the road. You paid when it broke. You paid to repair the repair. And, somehow, you’re the lucky one: “Wow nice!”