Gor (adj.), a Bisaya slang derived from ‘gorang’, which means very old or old person.
(As in, this old person.)
Used in a sentence:
I’m too gor for this shit.
07.30.2019
At around 03:30pm, I made my way to my usual 04L stop to get a ride to the office and was glad to have found one waiting to be filled with passengers. This meant I didn’t have to wait or walk up and down the street looking for one that was available.
A tiny note: my Bluetooth headphones have been acting up and we’ve been in the middle of a love-hate / cold war thing because Bluetooth headphones have been a diva, so I haven’t felt the need to pop my headphones on during moments I normally would. I would much prefer hearing the daily hustle, bustle and grind of my own city… than be stressed out and frustrated over malfunctioning headphones.
As I got in a blue 04L multicab, squeezing through all the limbs of all the passengers – trying to make my big ass self as tiny as possible (… those who ride 04Ls know how that is) – without my headphones in my ears – my auditory senses were assaulted by loud, and might I add, crappy, speaker music and even louder conversations. This noise pollution was brought to us by five kids. I say kids but, really, they’re five college girls – early college, I’d say first year, by the looks of it – acting like kids in their uniforms. (I would loooooooove to put in what school they’re from but I understand schools have no control over how their students carry their name and behave in public).
I had to resign to the fact that I needed to pop my dramatic Bluetooth headphones on to try and shut out their noise but their noise was on different level that I could still hear it through my music. I turned to Lorde and prayed for the rhythm and the beats and colors to take over and take me away, shield me and give me patience, but this noise was intense and overwhelming. Never mind when the playlist would transition from one song to another. Never mind when the headphones act up and needed resetting.
Now, this was a multicab. One where you’d (coz, really, you’ve no choice) end up touching elbows with the person next to you and you’d be knee to knee with the person sat in front of you. The kind that will make you go, ‘Ooh! I don’t know you but I guess we’ve shared this very intimate moment now’ with complete and utter strangers. One that just demand that you minimize your personal space and require you to find a way to get comfortable however uncomfortable.
This ride was full of passengers just trying to get from point A to point B. Some unwinding, relieved to finally be done with the day. Some whose stares let you know they’re mad at the world coz the Cebu heat is making a comeback after days of afternoon rain. These ‘kids’ had a Bluetooth speaker playing at top volume.
I understand the need to listen to music with your friends. I understand the need for conversation. But let’s get real here, is this ride really the best place for all of that? I doubt it. Because the volume of their tunes were already up there, their gossip had to be extra loud.
Listen, I’m a chill passenger. I actually enjoy my commute – but never, in my life, have I felt the dire need to hastily get to my destination just to avoid losing my temper and flaring up and burning beings and things in my journey.
They kept up their behavior throughout the entire ride.
Surprisingly (like, I surprise myself), I didn’t call them out on their behavior.
Why?
First, I couldn’t.
As a college kid, my friends and I were loud passengers too. So, again, I get it. At the same time, loud as we were, we weren’t gossiping about other people. We were talking about our music and creating and being better at our craft. We were constantly joking – belly-laughs all around. It was joyful noise, not malicious discussions about why ‘gwapa kaayo siya pero wa gyu’y magdugay nga uyab niya’ (‘She’s pretty but she can’t seem to keep a boyfriend’) or trying to figure out ‘Unsa diay ng Hollywood?’ (What is Hollywood?) for what sounded like a school event that had a theme.
Second, coz I shouldn’t have to.
Maybe I should have but this gor is just done with the world…
… In the sense that, oddly, the older I’ve gotten the more I’ve been trying to be a more peaceful – more zen – being. I’ve been trying to be more patient and more understanding about people and how people are different and the never-ending, ever beautiful thing that is humanity.
… It’s just… Yeah… The world can’t seem to stop testing this gor.
However, all this self-restraint didn’t stop me from giving them the Kerly-death-stare which, I’ve been told, is not pleasant. This didn’t stop me from imagining their skulls piled up in catacombs when we passed by a private property that had an outer façade of dark gray stones stacked up together that looked a bit like… well, skulls piled up in catacombs.
This didn’t stop me from documenting their behavior the way artists immortalize and eviscerate infuriating beings through their creations.
What of manners, children?
What of decorum?
What of bloody splitters and headphones?
From This Suok 