Riding through the busy, dangerous streets of Metro Manila, I remember just why I got my bike in the first place. There's a certain thrill in knowing that you can go anywhere you want, at any time without having to pay for anything except your bike's maintenance. With the rising cost of public transportation, the bike is a cheap and green alternative. It is a crazy way of living, with the majority keeping to the comforts of their cars.

In the end, it's also a way of surrender. No metal casings to protect you from the weather, no air-conditioning to keep you relatively sane during the morning's horrendous commute. There is a thrill in weaving through Manila traffic, as one would an obstacle course, except this one involves your life and your limbs, and falling between concrete or metal. As a road warrior, the city is your jungle and the bike, your gatekeeper to a different and exciting world.

There is a list of downsides, of course. Pollution. Undisciplined drivers. The most unpredictable of situations. In Manila, people behind the wheel can be the most callous human beings and they have - more than once - contributed to various bike accidents in my case.

Debris and trash on the streets result in a cyclist's flat tires. Water-filled ditches on rainy days are harbingers of disease. On the road and along sidewalks, there is a stark unconcern for rules; pedestrians can be as uncaring as their driving counterparts. And the fact remains. Bicycles are discriminated against in parking places, in the streets (but for Marikina City's), and even in one's home. No one seems to understand your vehemence for biking instead of driving.

Of course, amidst it all, you're thinking - the only carbon emissions you have are coming out of your body and you're burning calories to boot. There is also a dialog between the living around you and yourself: with the acacia trees in the everyday trips around the University of the Philippines, the air indentured to pollution, the uneven and ill-maintained roads, the rising concrete of urban behemoths and with the people on other bikes who share your passion.

With the breadth of the city about you, its people and volatile traffic, it is all about connection - being able to hold a conversation without speaking. To converse with the dissonance around you, grinning, while straining against exhaustion. Dirt smudged against one's legs. Sweat beading down your face. Thoughts intent on the immediate task of traversing a steep hill, negotiating the technical traffic-laden path while avoiding manholes and deep ditches.

It may be a bustling, dirty and cacophonous place. Yet it is also my respite -a living thing with which I commune and is a part of me. After a long day, I come home, fix myself a cup of tea and sit down to rest my legs. I revel at the sky, dark orange from the belch of a million-or-more populace and its creations; these same elements that give this place its enormous vivacity. To this bike commuter, Manila in the end is a plethora of contradictions that fuel the heart, mind and soul.

Photos used with permission from Angela Fraga.