For much of us, we
were made to believe that the communities that lined the aging Philippine
National Railways tracks were nothing more than squatter settlements; clusters
of improvised homes said to be occupied by people who stole steel from the
rails themselves. There was a widely repeated story of a segment of track sawed
clean off, halting the Manila-Bicol line years ago, and it became an easy picture
for the way many of us viewed those who lived beside the railway: as
troublemakers, the batang riles, or drifters, or people who existed
beyond the rules that governed everyone else.
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| The Skates of Quezon |
It turns out that
not all impressions exaggerated by movies and headlines accurately reflect the
communities that exist along these old PNR tracks.
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| Inventiveness with whatever materials available |
Over time, many of
these neighborhoods have settled into ordinary, stable communities. In the town
of Lopez in Quezon Province, the old railway corridor now reveals something
else entirely: a hub of local craftsmanship. Homes that once stood beside the tracks
have become small manufacturing spaces, producing woven pamaypay made from buri
or anahaw leaves, coconut-shell crafts, baskets and even blacksmith-made tools.
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| It rans smoothly on the old PNR rails |
Beyond that, it is
also a place where ingenuity is patching a band-aid to an ongoing problem: a
novelty ride that offers visitors a unique experience while serving as a daily
lifeline for local commuters navigating the country’s neglected transportation
system.
Riding my first
“Skate”
Together with members
of the Tourism Promotions Board Philippines (TPB), the marketing arm of the
Department of Tourism, we set out to scout communities that could be included
in the agency’s community-based tourism (CBT) program. Our journey took us
along the old Philippine National Railways tracks in the town of Lopez in Quezon
Province, and getting the chance to ride the region’s most unconventional form
of transport: the so-called “skates.”
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| Because the public can't wait anymore for decent public transport in the country |
My first ride on a
skate was a lesson in local initiative. Rather than letting the abandoned
tracks fall into decay, residents had repurposed them into a makeshift railway
for hand-built trolleys. Constructed from wood, steel, and salvaged materials,
these vehicles move along rusted rails, powered by pedals or by hand, their
clattering wheels echoing across fields and small villages.
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| A ride aboard the skates of Quezon also brings you to witness the communities built along the old rails |
Known locally as
skates and sometimes jokingly referred to as “kits” or “bullet trains”, these
trolleys carry schoolchildren, passengers, and market goods, following the same
route once traversed by PNR trains. In communities long underserved by
conventional public transport, the skates have become more than a novelty: they
are a practical, grassroots solution, connecting people to schools, markets,
and neighboring towns, and sustaining daily life along a railway that has
largely been left behind.
Discovering Lopez’
Craft Hub Along the Tracks
Also in the same
tracks in Lopez, where the old PNR trails stretch across Quezon, we stumbled
upon a handful of backyard industries or, more accurately, garage workshops.
Men and women were weaving baskets, another group crafting fans from anahaw
leaves, and just a few dozen meters away, a blacksmith forging knives and small
swords in front of his home.
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| A woman busy making a fan (pamaypay) |
Amid these pockets
of creativity, one workshop drew us to stay and observe longer than the rest.
Its owner, Mang Jessie, was not just crafting objects, he was shaping stories
from discarded materials, turning ordinary scraps into something extraordinary.
Jessie: From Stroke
Survivor to Skilled Artisan
His name is Jesus
Abatayo, known to his neighbors as Mang Jessie.
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| Jesus Abatayo |
During the long
lockdown, when his small coconut store slowed, Abatayo began experimenting with
husks and shells he once discarded. “He just started shaping them into little
things,” his wife, Avanceña, recalled. “Before we knew it, there were flowers,
animals, even tiny houses”, she tells us in Tagalog.
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| All sorts of figures can be seen in Mang Jesse's workshop in his home |
What began as a
lockdown experiment grew into an unexpected livelihood. From shaping coconut
husks to smiling faces, animals and other objects, his pieces, sold for a few
hundred pesos, have become cherished fixtures in the community.
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| Like Mang Jessie, many of his neighbors created a backyard industry making crafts like this man making baskets |
A stroke survivor
for more than a decade, Abatayo has done more than carve out an income. In
turning scraps into items of beauty, he has shown his neighbors that
reinvention, like art, often grows from the most ordinary materials.
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| Heaps of finished baskets |
Together, the
crafters of Lopez and the skate drivers form a strong network, proving that
even amid institutional neglect in basic services like transportation and
livelihood, the community finds ways to harness creativity and resourcefulness.
