Rolling Street
Art: The Beautiful Rides of Cebu
P.
Bion Griffin Professor Emeritus,
University of Hawai`i, Mānoa
Graffiti became street art;
Taggers gave way to Banksy. Graffiti became the stuff of museums, of gallery
showings, and of artists instead of criminals. Or the criminals became seen as
artists. The painters, owners, and
riders of the minibuses of Cebu, especially from the South terminal to Carcar
and back have one-upped them all…well, maybe not Bansky[1].
Many of the buses are rolling works of art, of fantasy, and of cultural
explosion. Looking more closely we may see an exuberance specifically of
Cebuano culture; looking more widely we see not only mini-buses but wild
jeepneys coursing the streets of Cebu City and tricycles, or habal-habal,
everywhere, the latter pimped out, blinged out, like few others in the
Philippines. Street art is now rolling on the streets. The question that drives
this anthropology of art paper is simply “WHY CEBU?” What is it about Cebuano
Culture that produces such art?
Plate One. Rolling street art. My
favorite. Outside Carcar, 2011
Plate Two A B & C. Details from Plate One. Art
without a doubt.
Plate Three. Two views of life? “It’s more fun in the... “& “The VATICAN a holy place”. Unpainted Ceres buses in the background. Religious imagery is often found on all types of PUVs.
At a national conference at the
University of the Philippines Diliman I briefed this query to a Cebu-based academic
artist who had delivered a paper about Cebuano artists and their problems with
reception, recognition, and sales. Her answer was a blank face and complete
lack of comprehension. Ah, not an anthropologist, I thought. No oil painting,
no sculpture. Best I continue informant interviews, photography and looking at
what the anthropology of art might say. Then, on an AirAsia flight, I spotted
in the inflight magazine the article “Art
from the street.” More importantly, one accompanying photograph included an artist
painting a bus (Lau 2018)[2].
An epiphany! “Instead of walls, the specially commissioned ‘moving’ mural was
painted on a public bus – literally taking art from the streets for a spin on
the streets” (Lau 2018:81 print edition).
I realized that Cebu buses are a
genre of street art. A new avenue anthropological investigation opened. But for
my article, the key word is anthropology, not gallery art. Again, why and how do
we explain this Cebuano distinction? What anthropological insights and
contributions may we make?
As I approach this thrust, I
must consider the anthropology of art, the idea of Cebuano culture, as opposed to
Filipino culture. And I must zero in on the painted buses themselves and on the
owners, painters, and riders. Lastly, I must look at Luzon buses, jeepneys and
tricycles and learn why they are by and large such unexciting entities compared
with those that circle around the Carcar City rotunda.
But are they, those
jeepneys, tricycles and buses of Luzon only pale reflections of their Visayan
kin? Are no statistical analyses on hand to build as evidence? The answer is
no. One could go on the streets, count, photograph and somehow judge Manila
versus Cebu City, or Baguio versus Carcar, but really, that still necessarily
brings in a subjective, judgmental component. Beauty is in the eye of the
beholder; art is individually considered, judged, and praised or condemned.
Your hardy writer has been studying the multitude of public utility vehicles (PUV)
he has been riding since 1972, and I trust his judgement! But many variables do
present themselves. Urban versus rural, big air con buses versus minibuses, the
economies of the regions, and, perhaps, cultural expressions.
In Baguio City, where
jeepneys tend to be old, dirty and poorly presented, some may be excused
because their round trips are not to and from delightful Carcar, but via remote
towns and villages over unpaved mountain roads. That said, Baguio’s city
jeepneys are seldom painted in a distinctive fashion. Most frequently, stick-on
decals of Disney cartoon characters and other themes are used. Some interesting
air brush motifs are found but treating the vehicle as a single canvas is
unlikely. Exceptions exist.
Plate Four (above) and Five. The Baguio exceptions. Note that these are long-bodied models. The jeepney “Iron Maiden” in the upper plate is for city transport (I could take it when going home from the market) while the model below is a mountain traversing unit. Both sport chromed horses on their hoods. Very Baguio. Very Country. As I gaze at the designs on the upper jeepney, I wonder if I am off base re Cebu. That design would fit nicely on the road to Carcar.
Manila jeepneys, like
Baguio’s, still largely follow the style of the traditional, jeep-based
vehicle. These, made by Sarao and other long-time builders, have evolved from
the earliest styles, all originating with the WWII American jeep. Seldom does
one today still find a grouping of chrome horses on the hood, but otherwise
paintjobs and chrome are rather standard.
Plate Six. Down a country road, old-time chrome horses leading the way.
Plate Seven. A plain oldie from 1969 on a Manila – Suburbs run. One can’t get a simpler livery.
Occasionally one sees a
standout; on Ortigas avenue by C 5, I was enthralled by a new stretch jeepney
painted in solid high-gloss black with gold metal trimming. One also sees the
occasional fine job of airbrushing themes of various genres; Cebu is not the
only location of beautiful rides, but I wonder if it holds a big lead. If so,
why? That is my question that drives this paper.
Cebu does have what most of
Luzon now longer sees: minibuses[3].
Plate Eight. A minibus in all its glory at the Carcar Rotunda.
In the 1970s and 1980s
minibuses ruled the provincial roads of Luzon. Running relatively short hauls,
say from San Fernando, La Union, or
Vigan, Ilocos Sur, to Dagupan, Pangasinan, they were the rides of choice over
jeepneys which made even shorter and slower trips. Only the big corporate
carriers used the large and sometimes airconditioned buses: Philippine Rabbit,
Victory Liner, Times Transit, Viron, Pantranco, Dugupan Bus Line and the famous
F Franco “flying coffin.” None of the Luzon vehicles of any size or
configuration had colorful liveries. The Rabbit was red. Times was Green, Pantranco
did have a stripe and so on. Jeepneys and minibuses sported the names of
drivers, conductors, and their supposed paramours or fantasies.
Plate Nine. The “real” minibuses of Luzon in the Cagayan Valley about 1982. Your author is standing
Sometimes a phrase such as “God Bless this Trip” or
“Midnight Cowboy” added character. Now the minibuses have been replaced by
larger buses, the impersonal UV Express Toyota HiAces or the hybrid
faux-jeepney minibuses. By a curious twist, the big corporation buses now are colorful with swirling paint
designs, all uniform per company. The paint jobs identify the company; one glance
tells that the bus is a Victory Liner, not Florida or Genesis. But still…no art
there.
Cebu does have its large,
uniform corporate-owned bus line, Ceres. Ceres are solid yellow [but see below]
and are large buses usually on longer routes. The painting is pleasant, but no
fantasy creeps in, no joie de vivre. Ceres is just a bus. The buses of
Cebu that are most elaborate and the subject of this paper are “mini”- to “a
bit smaller than Ceres.” They are the
canvases upon which the spirit of the Cebuano seems to be most vividly
presented.
ubiquitous, but not universal. The styles extant, primarily within Cebu City proper, often are examples
of the vivid, tricked out, colorful PUVs and tricycles that I see as special to Cebu and perhaps the
Visayas.
What is it about the Cebu buses that sparks my interest? The designs are usually complex and
storytelling, or at least attention grabbing. Stories are what live in us, that involve us. The images may
be religious or perhaps anti-religious or even sacrilegious. Fantasy and the fantastic, muted sexuality
and adventure, exploding colors, and personal statements all adorn the buses and jeepneys. The same
could be argued for buses and jeepneys, especially jeepneys, even in the far reaches of Luzon. But I
assert it is a matter of degree. This brings us back the difficult to answer question is the rolling street art
somehow reflective of Cebuano culture.
But what is the elusive thing
called Filipino Culture? First, we can dispense with the voluminous writings
that grew out of the Ateneo de Manila’s
Institute of Philippine Culture during the 1960s and 1970s, writing that still
dominates the lay public’s understandings. The work of Fr. Frank Lynch, Jaime
Bulatao, Mary Hollnsteiner and others harked back to the dominant themes of
American anthropology and the University of Chicago’s Philippines Studies
Program (Lynch, Yengoyan, Makil,
Hollnsteiner 2004; May G 1998). No fault may be found, I argue, with this
anthropology, but it was a creature of its time. Culture was seen in normative
terms and with concomitant theoretical underpinnings. Filipino Culture was
something shared, not differentially participated in. Utang na loob, pakikisama, and the ideals of behavior and the
Filipino family were explored and generalized upon. Variation in culture as a
symbol system, as how people participated in their culture in different ways
and with different meanings, did not draw the attention now highlighted in
anthropology. I do not find a search of ideals or norms a fruitful way to
investigate the rolling street art of Cebu buses. Still, one can’t entirely
escape, since we are attempting to differentiate aspects of Cebuano culture
from the overall entity, the symbol system, the ways of looking at the world,
the variable and fluctuating designs for living that one might call Filipino.
I am reminded of Conrad de
Quiros’s essay in the Philippine Daily Inquirer (May 11, 2014:A10) and his
point that “…Our [Filipino] culture being steeped in myth and legend, our
heroes being larger than life and savior figures” and “We are a culture too
that isn’t always able to distinguish fantasy and reality.” More recently, Joel
Ruiz Butuyan also in PDI (May 21, 2018) cast another angle on the same point
“Politicians are viewed as fantastical beasts who can be benevolent or
malevolent, and people generally let them be, just like they do with good and
bad spirits such as engkanto, tikbalang,
and nuno sa punso.” Teledramas are
full of the most amazing beings, often bad boys and girls, and the fates of
interactions with the same. I like to think of the Philippines as a
“theater state.” I draw on
Clifford Geertz’s book Negara: The Theatre State in
Nineteenth-Century Bali (1980) for inspiration, and on a personal
communication from Douglas Yen (n.d., back in the day) in discussing the media
explosion with the discovery of the Tasaday of South Cotabato, Mindanao. He
pointed out the level of fantasy swirling through the urban Philippines with
political dramas, the Tasaday, the “Thrilla in Manila,” (the 1975 boxing match
of Mohamad Ali and Joe Frazier), and wild street demonstrations before and
after the declaration of martial law. Today every evening television news is
scripted with drama: a murder, preferably gruesome, women crying, a sexy lady
or two, even a sexy man or two, and political intrigue: theater. The whole
Philippines is committed to and enthralled by festivals, their parades, and
their fantasies. Nearly every town of any size has a fabulous annual festival,
parade, beauty contest and politicians strutting their stuff. Perhaps most
convincing are the performances of Congressmen and Senators. The ultimate was
the August 27, 2025, boxing match between Philippine National Police Chief
Nicolas Torre III and Davao Mayor Sebastian “Baste” Duterte, a “dare” match
turned into a fund raiser at the Rizal Memorial Coliseum! What a show! And
Duterte skipped out (Argosino, 2025 ).
Within Filipino culture as
the foundation of a theater state we may locate plentiful variation. I speculate
that the buses of Cebu exemplify a special Cebuano exploration and display of
their participation in this theater. I might, with caution, mention popular
cultural stereotypes that have for years pervaded my hearing. Of course,
stereotyping is dangerous, and falls back on the normative classifying that I
have already diminished. Still, at least in the popular imagination, where
there is smoke, there is fire, and the various ethnic groups seem to have a bit
of both the smoke and the fire. So, Ilocanos are alleged, as a group, to be
thrifty,[4]
industrious, and brave/aggressive. Tagalogs may be proud and assertive, Waray,
like Ilocanos are brave or strong. Illongas are supposedly status conscious. Cebuanos,
our folk of interest, may be kind, gentle, slow to anger (and if angry, not
showing so until…bang!) and given to love of the good things of life. I suggest
we transition this latter notion to the exuberance in display, a vivid approach
to one’s surroundings, and a touch of the mystical. The buses do have more than
a touch of magic and fantasy.
Art from an anthropological
perspective must be clarified. The justification for including vehicle paint
jobs as art will buttress the interpretation of images viewed and
presented. J. Coole has a succinct view
that enables a beginning analysis.
“The anthropology of
art studies and analyses the wide range of material objects produced by people
around the world. These are considered not merely as aesthetic objects but are
understood to play a wider role in people's lives, for instance in their
beliefs and rituals. The materials studied include sculpture, masks, paintings,
textiles, baskets, pots, weapons, and the human body itself. Anthropologists
are interested in the symbolic meanings encoded in such objects, as well as in
the materials and techniques used to produce them…. Another central concern of
this branch of the discipline has been to analyse the form and function of
objects and to explore the relations between these and aspects of the wider
society….Since the 1960s in particular, anthropologists have produced
increasingly sophisticated analyses of visual materials. More recently, closer
attention has been paid to the different ideas of aesthetic value in different
societies. Increasing attention has also been paid to the ways in which
material objects made in one sphere come to have value in another. For example,
there have been a number of recent studies of the tourist and art markets as
well as of the role of museums.” Jeremy Coote (n.d., see references for URL.)
Paul Bohannan adds
perspectives useful in studying bus paintings. “All art can be said to have two
sweeping characteristics: it embodies a message within an idiom of communication,
and it arouses a sense of mystery – a feeling that it is more than it appears
to the intellect to be” Bohannon (1964:141).
I
started my thinking on the beautiful rides of
Cebu in 2010. I scratched notes,
made visits to Cebu and Carcar, queried assorted locals, and continued to
wrestle with the central question. Do the painted buses and jeepneys, and even
the blinged tricycles reveal a special exuberance in Cebuano culture? Informants
– bus conductors, the occasional rider and stand by usually had difficulty
articulating what the bus designs meant to them. Of course, this is typical of
one pressed to come up with an explanation “out of the blue,” but most thought
the painted buses and the artwork itself made the bus look attractive. “The
owner wants a good-looking bus to compete with other owners and buses” was
often a response to our queries. “Buses should look good.” “I’m proud of my
bus.” “I haven’t thought about your question.” “Yes, Carcar buses are special,
like Carcar.” A professional painter of buses – he does an entire bus, not
piece work, noted that he plans the paint job with the owner, often selecting
designs from books of illustrations. He considers the whole bus when he
undertakes a job. As to deeper meanings, he passed, but clearly took pride in
his art. I must admit that when asked about the meaning of a piece of art, I
hedge and leave it to university art professors to tell me what the artist
meant by his or her result! Perhaps a symposium at the University of San Carlos
might bring reflections.[5]
In
May 2022, after the isolation of the Covid pandemic, I returned to Cebu to wrap
up my research and finish this essay. As they say, “FAIL.” Few pieces of
rolling street art were seen. No exuberance in decorated buses, jeepneys or,
truly, anything met my eyes. It seemed all gone. The research wraps up with a possible
negation of the hypothesis, or a rejection of any distinctiveness in Cebuano
culture as seen in “rolling street art.” The streets of Cebu and the roads of
the island were loaded with government mandated mini-buses and by multitudes of
Ceres buses. The former were painted a uniform off-white, the latter shared an
attractive livery of no great distinction, but not the original universal
yellow. The rolling street art is but sporadically seen. I failed to travel the
Cebu City to Carcar route, so I cannot be certain of my interpretation. The
plethora of plain buses north of Cebu City seem to make the case that rolling
street art is passé.
The
first point herein is that the research problem perhaps has been solved. The
idea may wrong. True, I have not explained the existence of the Carcar painted
buses, but the hypothesis cannot be strongly supported. The second point is to
speculate why such is the case. Lots of anthropological ideas cum research
projects end up busts. This is to be expected and thought through, but not
necessarily turned into a renewed project. Still, I was shocked to find the
change. I wonder if I overstated the singularity of the painted buses. Most
importantly, I suggest that a perfect storm, no pun intended, has changed the
public transportation world of Cebu. The pandemic from March 2020 until the
present in which I write this line, May 2022, now fading, crippled small
operators financially. No one could ride together on buses until recently.
Supporting business closed. Drivers and conductors had no employment, hence no
money. Mini-bus owners, small businesspersons themselves, likely were seldom
able to survive the loss of income. Then came the typhoon that savaged the
island. As of May 2022, the evidence of terrible destruction still confronts
one. Small operators may have experienced destruction of their infrastructure.
In any case, two new PUV systems, funded by deeper pockets, perhaps took over.
Ceres
buses back in 2010 were largely limited to long distance routes and were few
compared with the minibuses. They were larger, sometimes air-conditioned and
fares were a little higher as I recall. If a traveler wanted a maximally
comfortable seat and a trip with fewer stops and goes, Ceres was the choice.
Traveling from Cebu City’s South Terminal to well beyond Carcar, Ceres was also
the choice. Ceres is, reportedly, the largest bus franchise in the Philippines
and “rules” the Visayas. The company has now extended to Luzon. And, clearly,
it has taken over the shorter rural hauls recently the domain of the painted
minibuses. I infer that the company saw the opening and quickly put a fleet of
large buses onto the rural roads and city streets of Cebu. And, they had
company.
The
white minibuses are ubiquitous on Cebu City’s streets. The numbers of wildly
painted “jeepneys” seem to have plummeted. The minibuses are meant to upgrade
the quality of vehicles. The replacement of the older style jeepney is mandated
by law and came into effect late in the President Duterte administration. I had
surmised that the demise of older jeepneys was largely a Manila and Luzon
phenomenon. In those places the very old diesel powered jeepneys had been on
the road since time immemorial and were often smoke belching beasts. Cebu had
largely left behind the traditional jeepney, replacing it with a more modern
vehicle with no ancestry to the WWII jeep. Again, I was mistaken. The numbers of minibuses (one cannot call them modern
jeepneys, no matter what the politicians and bureaucrats say) suggest that our
old painted buses and evolved jeepneys could not survive this onslaught.
The
combined powers of big business, Ceres, and the
government fostered “modern” PUVs, the buses, some allegedly electric were,
I suggest, the basis of the disappearance of the rolling street art buses owned
by individual entrepreneurs. I still think that the minibuses seen running from
South Terminal to Carcar (and others) were emblematic of a Cebuano joie de
vivre, but I see no anthropological basis for making a stronger assertion.
Perhaps such a spirit will be revived as the effects of the pandemic and
typhoon dissipate but running up against the powers of Ceres and government organized
and controlled environmentally friendly buses makes the prospect dim. Did a
special Cebuano artistic excitement ever exist? Or does a pan Philippines flair
for wild color, fantasy, and account for my buses? Has the anthropology of art
in this case failed, or is something hidden that the anthropologist fails to
see? Inquiring minds want to know. But, whatever the reasons, those buses are
beautiful rolling street art.
References and selected resources for additional information
Argosino, Faith 2025 Torre gets the better
of another Duterte. Philippine Daily Inquirer. P. 6, July 28, 2025. Print edition.
Anonymous 2024. Philippine Street Art:
Reflecting Social Issues. EduBirdie.https://hub.edubirdie.com/examples/graffiti-art-and-street-art-in-the-philippines-reflection-of-social-issues-in-the-philippines/.
Downloaded 7-27-2025.
Anonymous 2021. Philippine Street Art Scene. https://streetartnews.net/2021/08/philippine-street-art-scene.html#google_vignette.
Downloaded 7-27-2025.
Bohannon, Paul 1964. Africa and Africans. The Natural History Press, Garden City, New
York.
Cabildo, Aldous Vince 2022. Street Art in the
Philippines: 10 Spots That Tell Stories and Expressions. TripZilla Philippines.
https://www.tripzilla.ph/street-art-in-the-philippines/9110
downloaded 7-27-2025.
Calara, Perry M. 2008. Trisikel, habal-habal or
pedicab. Sun-Star p. 6, February 10, 2008.
Coote, Jeremy n.d. Anthropology of Art https://www.discoveranthropology.org.uk/about-anthropology/specialist-areas/anthropology-of-art.html Downloaded
8-21-2018.
Ellsworth-Jones, Will 2013. https://www.smithsonianmag.com/arts-culture/the-story-behind-banksy-4310304/ downloaded 8-20-2018.
Geertz, Clifford 1980.
Negara: The Theatre State in Nineteenth Century Bali.
Princeton University Press, Princeton.
Lau, Danny 2018. “Art from the Streets,” Travel360.com. AirAsia Inflight Magazine.
May. 76-83.
Lynch, Frank, Yengoyan, Aram A., Makil, Perla Q.,
Hollnsteiner, Mary Racelis. 2004. Philippine society and the individual:
selected essays of Frank Lynch. Quezon City, Philippines : Institute of Philippine
Culture, Ateneo de Manila University : distributed by Ateneo de Manila
University Press. Rev. ed.
May, GA 1998. Father Frank Lynch and the Shaping of
Philippine Social Science. Itinerario 22 (3): 99-121.
Riva, Emma n.d.
Venazir Martinez, Baguio City’s Anthro-preneur. https://upmag.com/venazir-martinez/
Downloaded 7-27-2025. Great photographs of Baguio City wall paintings.
Roque, Kevin Christian 2024 Revolutionary Walls: The Activist’s Canvas. UP Forum, University
of the Philippines. https://up.edu.ph/revolutionary-walls-the-activists-canvas/
Downloaded 7-27-2025. Good general introductory text.
Contact: pbiongriffin@gmail.com
Citation: Griffin, P. Bion 2025 Rolling Street Art: the
Beautiful Rides of Cebu. Wandering with An Old Anthropologist. Baguio
City, Philippines. 29 July 2025. Blog post. http://wanderingoldanthropologist.blogspot.com/.
[1] Bansky is arguably the world’s most famous and reclusive “street
artist.” See Elsworth-Jones (2013). Philippines street art is too big to
discuss here. The References and Resources section list with URLs several good
sources.
[2] The online version does not have the print version bus painting. Can
we imagine a Cebu City art gallery commissioning a bus painting?
[3] Interestingly, in 2021 the mandate to replace jeepneys by new,
custom-built nouveau jeepneys, complete with air conditioning and wi-fi has re-introduced
the minibus, but in an urban context. Consortium-owned, the paint jobs are
decidedly pedestrian. They are also allegedly environmentally friendly, being occasionally electric powered.
[4] I will use English glosses, incomplete and inaccurate although they
may be. The issue is all fuzzy and subject to passionate debate.
[5] Perhaps the task of the research was beyond the anthropologist -me. I do not speak
Cebuano. My Tagalog is good for ordering a drink in a bar or arguing with a
taxi driver. My assistant spoke good English, but the idea of my inquiry seems
to have been lost in translation. Getting into the deep meaning of bus art was beyond us.