A man was crouching in the passenger seat of a trishaw

When I arrived at the center of Banaue, I found a space that was too cramped to be called a proper square, yet it was lined with tricycles—those motorcycles with sidecars that serve as taxis across the Philippines. Traveling through Luzon, you encounter them in every town, but here in Banaue, famous for its rice terraces, the cluster of local tricycles stands out even more than the parking lots for tourist buses. To devote what little flat ground there is to a waiting area for shared rides seems almost wasteful, considering how painstakingly farmland was carved into terraces. Yet this too is part of modern life.

In one tricycle, a man was slouched in the sidecar. He showed no sign of moving, perhaps waiting for a fare, or perhaps simply lost in thought. From a distance he looked like he might have been smoking, or else just staring into nothingness. Thanks to the roof overhead, he had no need to worry about a sudden downpour. In the Philippines, the rainy season means heavy showers can strike without warning, and a folding umbrella is nearly useless. For the drivers, the tricycle roof is more than a shield against the rain—it is shelter. Watching him, though, I couldn’t help wondering if the sidecar was less a workplace than a shaded nook for napping. In the end, his tricycle seemed to be part taxi, part waiting room, and perhaps even an extension of his own living room.