The object of her sudden affection was a large striped yellow backpack, seemingly flawless and looking brand-new. She inspected the pockets, the large back space, the leather straps, and the material used for the body that turned out to be waterproof. She began crooning admiration on her great find.
How much? she asked the ukay-ukay vendor. Thats only 150 pesos, maam, replied the vendor. My friend left the stall wearing not just the backpack but a huge grin.
Agdao, Here I Come!
The memory of Anna’s thrill made me decide to set off to Agdao in a Matina jeepney. On Aquino Street in Agdao, the jeepney began to slow down, like the rest of the vehicles that go this way. This was, after all, just in front of the public market and the adjacent ukay-ukay stalls and the pedicab terminal — the heart of Agdao. I got off and made my way to the ukay-ukay stalls.
The ukay-ukay stalls occupied half of the Agdao pedicab terminal. It had been more than a year since they were moved here by Mayor Rodrigo Duterte from their previous post around the Agdao public market eatery. The move was meant to organize them and keep order in the area.
The relocation also signaled a change in the business management of the ukay-ukay vendors, according to market officials I interviewed during my visit.
After we were relocated here, all of us had a meeting and we formed the Agdao Shoppers Multi-purpose Cooperative,” said Charmaine Mandigan, a board member of the cooperative. “So we became organized. We had a complete set of officers and we also began to secure business permits.”
This was a far cry from the usual image of ukay-ukay vendors as mere sidewalk vendors who often sell their ware illegally. “Each one of us here is a legitimate businessman, Mandigan said.
There were over 50 stalls occupying equal spaces in the cooperatives space at the terminal. But while each vendor was given an equal share of space, with the stalls lined in rows, one could still feel lost in this sea of used clothes, bags, shoes, and belts.
To avoid being overwhelmed and confused, I went straight to the first stall at one end of the stalls where bags were sold — this was also the stall where my friend found her bag — and decided to survey each stall along the row. I looked at the bags hanging from the racks and found all kinds in varying degrees of usage. Some were obviously old, others had torn parts, while several looked fresh out of the factory.
I found a red Fila mail bag with a rubber exterior and a waterproof lining. It looked something from the early ’90s.
How much is this Fila? I asked the male ukay-ukay vendor.
Thats 380 pesos, maam.
Oh, I blurted, disappointed. The price, although thousands of pesos cheaper than a brand-new one, was more than twice my budget.
Then I tried to use a requisite in ukay-ukay shopping: haggling.
Whats your last price? I asked.
350, the vendor replied.
Still expensive. I decided to search for other choices. I found a white cloth backpack hanging on the racks of the following stall. It looked nice. My only problem with it was that it was made of cloth so it sagged. But at 150, the price was just right for me. Still, there were other choices.
