Supersized Paranoia. To Go, Please.

As I was going home last Friday night, I noticed a woman wearing a black burkha (you know that head garment that basically covers the whole head and has only a slit for the eyes) sitting in the innermost part of the jeepney. Because she was dressed in dark colors, it was easy to miss her but once you'd seen her, it was impossible to ignore her. At first I was curious so I watched her. And because she was covered from head to toe save for her eyes and hands, there was that sense of watching something that could not watch back.

And then I got paranoid.

Thoughts flashed: She could be a holdupper pretending to be a Muslim so she could cover her face!

I watched even more.

The two women across from me were talking. One said, "Teka kinakabahan ako. Parang gusto ko na bumaba. (Wait, this is making me nervous. I think I want to get off.)" Friend replied, "Tara, baba na tayo. (Let's get off here.)"

Now that's mean, I thought.

I watched the woman some more. That's a pretty big bag. Wait, where's her hand? What's inside her bag? What if her hand's inside her bag, fingering a gun that she would point at us at just precisely the right time? What if she's a suicide bomber? What if she's not even a she?

Know that I am paranoid by nature. Compound that with the fact that everyday I read about attempted terrorist attacks, real or imagined. Really, it's like breakfast: a bus exploded in Shanghai. Pfft. A woman was reportedly caught with inflammable liquid onboard a flight going to Beijing. Um, is it time for lunch now?

Still I fought the urge to get off the jeepney. I was not going to discriminate against people of a different faith. I was not going to be mean to this innocent woman who did nothing wrong to me nor to anyone I know. I was not going to be one of those ignorant... wa-wait, I was not going to be in the headlines the next day!

Just make your hands visible, lady. Please. There, there. One, two. Two hands in sight. Ok, maybe five more minutes before my stop. Eyes on the hands...

Yes. Yes, I know. I am very, very ashamed of myself. I should not be thinking these thoughts.

I tried not to breathe an audible sigh of relief when we got to my stop. I got off the jeepney then walked fast. Away before it could explode.

Of course it did not explode and I berated myself even more.

And then she was there with me again on the jeepney last night. I was sitting beside the driver. I turned around and there she was right behind the driver.

The fact that nothing terroristic happened the last time should have been enough reassurance that nothing would happen again this time. But I could see her dark presence out of the corner of my left eye. And I couldn't keep watch of the hands this time.

And so I am here confirming that no jeepney was bombed last night.

And I am very, very, very ashamed of myself. Please forgive me.