Protected: Kiss and Yell

Rite of Passage

Inside the school, photo courtesy of a fellow MakScian

It was almost summer and everyone could already feel the unforgiving heat of the sun.We had no classes on that lazy February afternoon. Well not really, because we skipped our French classes. Despite the fact that it’s more comfortable inside the airconditioned classroom, we preferred the buzzing electric fan near the fire exit to the buzzing sounds that Monsieur Ribery made as he carefully pronounced each word. Où est-il? C’est là-bas. (Where is it? It is over there.)

And oh how he was right. There she was. Calling us, tempting us. She was about one and a half to two storeys high and there’s some sort of Globe fuse box waiting right outside and in front of it. Everything seemed like a huge joke until one of us made a brave declaration. “Let’s get out of here. Let’s climb the damn fence.” Little beads of sweat formed on my forehead and my thoughts were just swirling, my heart pounding in unbelief. You’ve got to be kidding. I have seen and heard of students climb the fence before just to get into the school. It happens whenever they arrive late and the gates were closed on them in the morning. I know it’s weird – kids breaking in just to get into their classes. But this time is probably scarier because we’ll be breaking not just one rule, but two – we’d be skipping classes and might die trying (literally). I was extremely worried because my parents were never, ever called by school officials before. Knowing how terrifying my dad was plus the fact that my mom lived in the province, I knew that if I got caught, I’d be dead meat by tomorrow. Two of the girls went ahead, including the daughter of a school employee. As we watched them climb like monkeys, I thought it looked pretty easy. I can do that, I said to myself. I was getting hungrier by the minute. There was no decent food left in the canteen and we were prohibited from ordering outside the school. I am getting more and more convinced that there is a true need to bust out of the premises.

There was this timid girl from another section who also agreed that we should climb the fence. I can still remember that she was celebrating her birthday that day and that an overly generous classmate gifted her a watch with an image of an angel on it. Together, we carefully climbed down the fire exit from the fourth floor. As soon as we reached the ground, we managed to get to the wall. We held on tight to the grills and we watched every step – careful not to rip our skirts. I couldn’t hear anything but the loud beating of my heart, it’s almost like it’s pounding right into my ears. And in a couple of minutes, we’re out! What a feat! Haha! We’re frickin’ out! Unfortunately, my schoolmate’s new watch got scratched. We happily skipped away but the celebration was cut short when our classmate’s dad caught us. What-the-fudge. We had to reason out with him and tell him that actually this was entirely your daughter’s idea. She fled a good ten minutes before us. Knowing that his kid could get in trouble, he let us free. He even taught us which street to take.

When we reached the jeepney stop along J.P. Rizal Street, we noticed that there were more and more students wearing the same uniform as ours heading towards our direction. For some weird reasons, they must have decided to let the students out early. Right then I knew that it was probably one of the most stupid and immature things I have done. What’s even more annoying was that, they let the other kids out early anyway. We could have easily gone through the gate but yes, we opted for the more difficult way out.

The following day, we learned that the school employee who caught us just told the Guidance Counselor that we got away and that he didn’t recognize the culprits. According to our schoolmates, a tattle-tale neighbor called the school to report girls climbing over the school fence. We also confirmed that classes were cut short that day and students were sent home early for some reason I can no longer recall. And I felt really stupid. Hmpft.

An Open Letter

I know this will sound so mean but you were the last person I wanted to be friends with when I met you.  You were Little Miss I-have-it-all.  You came from a private school and wore expensive shoes and clothes.  In short, you were the envy of many girls because you’re not just well-off, but you’re also pretty.  But I didn’t envy you.  I just didn’t like you.  I thought that you will not fit into this world I made for myself.  My world was so chaotic while yours was almost perfect. I’d rather be alone than hang out with you because all I’ll probably hear are your boy problems while I deal with a dysfunctional family and how I’m going to survive lunch with only thirty pesos in my pocket. Having enough problems of my own, I didn’t want to bother myself with your trivial issues.

Though it seemed like you had everything, I kind of felt sorry for you because you had a curfew.  Your parents brought and picked you up from school. Even your phone calls were filtered by your mom.  And because your parents (especially your mom) were very protective of you, you had problems with dating boys.  They tried so hard to shoo them away so you can focus on the academics.  I can still remember that one rainy afternoon when your mom literally dragged you out of the campus because of some boy. (Or was it boys?) I can’t remember exactly.  There’s Nathan (yeah, Diether’s cute cousin), then there’s David, James (?), Gab, and then Ross. (I wonder if I missed out on anyone.)  How awful it must’ve felt to be embarrassed in front of the entire school.  But then I thought, your mom probably just wanted the best for you.  So she would do anything and everything in her power to make sure that you get a good education and keep you away from distractions.  Later on, I learned that your mom just wanted to scare the boys and that she was actually very nice.

While you were busy chatting with the cute guys, I was just somewhere reading a Stephen King novel or poring over our school’s collection of Palanca-winning works.  You had your Candy and Seventeen magazines that your mom gladly purchased for you every month while I borrowed the boring reads like Bato Balani from the library.  You read those girly magazines (and not the scientific ones) not because you’re not smart. You are an intelligent girl. You were just very interested in fashion, that’s all.  Meanwhile, I was just being my boring and nerdy self (plus I didn’t want to spend 17% of my stipend on these magazines).  Anyway, I read Bato Balani because that’s where I found out about how one of the research teams copied their work from said magazine. Ha! That team hated me because I told the teacher about it.  As a result, Sir Danny (the Davidoff Cool Water-smelling/good-looking Biology teacher) kept on inviting me to the succeeding research defense sessions.  Now we have something in common. We were both hated.

I don’t exactly recall how and when I started hanging out with you.  All I remember was that despite our clear lifestyle differences, you were never selfish.  In fact, you were ultra-generous. You have always shared what you had with me.  You would let me bring home your magazines or Archie comics or eat whatever your lunch was with me.  We also shared the same sentiments about annoying subjects or people and we both couldn’t wait for high school to end.

Probably because I was a loner/loser/nerd, your mom began to trust me.  She’d let you pick up the phone when I call past 9PM. (Did I tell you that I still know your home number ’til this very day?)  Then we’d spend our weekends in Glorietta.  Remember how McDonald’s didn’t have Coke Floats back then? We invented our own floats. You always ordered a large root beer and sundae while I had a large Coke and a sundae.  Some days, we would just eat McFlurrys and sit in the Activity Center until we grew tired. As we happily dipped our sundae cones on our drinks, we share the events of the week, the shows we saw on TV, and our frustrations. These were the things that we have already talked about all week but we go through it again anyway because it was a fun thing to do.  There were also those times when we would play Dance Dance Revolution all day.  I was struggling with Boom Boom Dollar while you danced to Paranoia like it was nothing.  You were patient enough to teach me until I could follow the rhythm and start racking points.  Do you still remember how I raided your fridge? You told me how you and your family stopped eating ice cream and chocolates because you were watching your weight. Meanwhile, I was so thin so you fed me all the ice cream and chocolates I could eat during Dance Rev breaks. (For some weird reasons, I find this funny and embarrassing.)  Then as we grew hungry from all the dancing, your dad (who you fondly call Papsy or was it Papi?) would order food from Tokyo Tokyo. To high school girls like us, Tokyo Tokyo was some fancy Japanese restaurant with a menu we couldn’t afford with our own money.  Oh, and have I told you that I tried to call my dad, Papi?  He yelled at me and said, “Don’t you dare call me that name again! I’m not a dog!”

Some people probably thought that I am only friends with you because I get free stuff from you.  But that’s not true.  I guess, if you didn’t have all those things, I’d still be friends with you because you have this one quality that none of our other classmates/schoolmates had.  You’re sincere.  Who would want to be friends with someone like me, right?  But you saw me past my cheap clothes and nerdy/ugly looks and really took the time to get to know me.  You probably don’t know how thankful I am that you’re such a good friend during those four lonely years while I was away from my mom and siblings and had to live with dad and his relatives.  In the absence of my own family, you unselfishly shared yours to me.

After high school, I was both happy and sad when I found out that you’re going to UA&P. How I wished I could go there with you! Since we couldn’t afford it, I went to a public university.  And although it felt awesome that we no longer have to put up with all the high school shit, it was also sad and scary to be away from a friend like you.  I was so mad at myself because I misplaced the only picture of us.  It was taken using that Polaroid camera of yours. Yeah, the neoprint kind, the ones that I can stick to my notebook if I wanted to? That photo was taken during that night swimming at CP’s place.  All I had were just memories of those countless weekends, phone calls, us standing beside each other during CAT, and lunch breaks.  We didn’t talk anymore while we were in college until we reconnected via Multiply.  Oh boy, we immediately scheduled a double date, didn’t we?

Today, as we sat in the salon while you have your hair done and I get a manicure and pedicure, I couldn’t help but say a little prayer of thanks.  You are a true blessing to me and I wish you more blessings and happiness because you truly deserve it.  I am so lucky to have known you and to have the chance to be a part of your life and for allowing me to be a part of yours. I pray that we will have more times like this and hopefully our kids will be good friends, too.

I’ll see you again in May.

__________________________________

My friend Joane is an avid iPhone user, enjoys shopping, loves the beach and stars (the shape), and is happily dating a handsome guy named Hans. She is a pre-school teacher and is now based in Singapore. (On Flickr Week 6/52; Project 52)

Color Blind

It’s another day at work. “Thank you for calling Sprint together with Nextel, this is Cara. How can I help you?” While saying the same old spiel, I heard myself and the rest of the team help people with their bills, fix mobile phones, and try to sell more stuff to those lucky callers until I heard one of us make an offer.

“By the way, ma’am, did you know that you could get a free phone today?”

Oh yes, if he can make that successful sale the lucky guy gets an extra thousand pesos on his paycheck. But wait, there’s more.

“Yes, that’s true! In fact, if you order it today, I can even give you additional 100 free text messages and a month of free mobile internet. An x dollar value absolutely free.” More upselling. “Okay, so you want a black flip phone? I apologize ma’am but the black ones went out of stock last week. The only colors available at the moment are brown and pink.”

Pause. Customer must be insisting on a black phone. “Actually the brown one is so brown it’s almost black.”

Blag. I fell off my chair.

Thank You, 2009!

I was told that this year is my year, the year of the ox.  However, I didn’t rely much on astrology or Chinese horoscope because everything happened based on God’s will. This year, I am thankful for so many things like how our relationship in the family has gone better. I am thankful that God blessed us with good health and financial stability. I am thankful that I was able to grow as a person and that I got to know myself better. This year, my relationship with God was refreshed. I am thankful that we were able to celebrate my parents’ silver wedding anniversary. Overall, I am thankful to God because He made this year a fruitful and a truly blessed one for me and my family. Goodbye, 2009. In a bit, we will say aloha to 2010.

_____________________________

Dear Avalon.ph,

Thanks for the chance of ending 2009 with a blast. I got to list down all the things I am thankful for plus I get the chance to win a 2010 Moleskine Colour a Month Daily Planner. Thank you for sharing your blessings to bloggers like me. Now crossing my fingers for the Moleskine babies. <3

I Learned These in High School But I Don’t Know Why

Pardon the long title.  I just couldn’t think of any other way to say it.  Since I had a day of reminiscing the bad ol’ high school days, some of the things I remembered are the silly lessons we had to learn in the classroom.  Til now, I still don’t get it why we had to learn:

1. All about phonemes. Back in first year high school, we were taught how to properly pronounce words (which is absolutely fine) in this cool speech lab.  There were headsets, microphones, and cubes per student. But one thing I don’t understand is why the heck we had to learn how to write them. Lemme give you a sample, /krapE/ for crappy. And this phonemic representation I made could be wrong cos I wasn’t very good in this subject. What’s funny was we took this subject in English with Ms. Raindrops in the afternoon (of course her last name isn’t really raindrops but it sounded like it so it stuck) and in Filipino during the day (“Ang ponema ay ang pinakamaliit na yunit…” according to Ms. Zafra).
2. Really ancient Tagalog words. I received one of those Excel sheets that turn out as a quiz meant to measure your knowledge of old Tagalog words and I was able to translate 95% of those English words into old Tagalog and vice versa. If you think Pisika is the Tagalog word for Physics, you are wrong.  Pisika is still considered as hiram na salita or borrowed from its English counterpart. It’s actually, Hipnayan.  Okay, how about another one. I majored in Biochem so it’s a shame if I don’t know the Tagalog word for Chemistry. Any guesses? Kimika? No way, that’s still borrowed from the original word! It’s actually Kapnayan. All I can say is, man, ang hirap arukin! [It's difficult to understand!] So why the heck teach us words that are no longer being used? People no longer say, salumpuwit.  They just simply say, Orocan (if you’re poor) or Lazy Boy if you’re simply well-off. I just don’t get it.
3. How to translate a French song in English. I was very lucky that our school’s curriculum included two years of learning the French language.  A couple of days before Christmas, our Claus-like teacher, Monsieur Ribery, brought some French bread and cheese that smelled like a dead rat.  We had nothing to do since all the lessons are done.  While the smell of the cheese wafted inside the classroom our teacher decided that we should translate the most popular French pop song during that time.  Must be the smell of the cheese that led him to do that.  Anyway, if you haven’t heard of Larusso, then I don’t know from which jungle you came from.  But anyway, we decided to translate the song, On Ne S’aimera Plus Jamais. It was simple.  The title means you don’t love me anymore. I don’t understand why exactly we did that but there’s one thing I know, I can still sing that song and pronounce each word properly until this very day. (And I have secretly fallen in love with some more French songs.)
4. Constitution. Ahhh, Consti.  We fondly call this subject Consti.  Our teacher was a loud woman.  I don’t remember her name anymore but boy, I can still remember what she looks like plus she’s chummies with the librarians.  She’d yell at us if we walked really slow on our way to her class. (Punyeta! I didn’t say that! She did! Haha.)  Anyway, if you think I am referring to the Philippine Constitution, please allow me to say this.  It is normal and I think it’s just plain right to learn about the Philippine Constitution since we are in the Philippines.  But back in the day, on top of our own consti, we had to read through, discuss, and test on American and Japanese constitutions. I can feel the headache now. Gosh, why did we have to study that?!

I checked the current curriculum and nothing much has changed (except they added this subject called Makabayan. What the heck is Makabayan anyway?)  Students still had to endure 13 units per year. And I bet they still carry as much books and notebooks we had to carry back then.

So now, I still haven’t figured out how I’m supposed to use all those stuff I learned in school.  I wish they taught us how to compute for our taxes, how to deal with people from diverse backgrounds, how to survive college, sex education (believe me, there was none and I think this is beneficial for the sake of learning), plus some other things that I couldn’t remember at the moment.  These stuff might come in handy as compared to knowing how to say “You don’t love me anymore” but not know how to ask for help if I were lost in France, penniless.

High School was a Drag but I’ll Attend the Reunion Anyway

I can make up a gazillion reasons why I hated high school but if ever the reunion will push through, I think I’m gonna go. So today, a friend and I had a short convo about what kind of hell high school was.  We weren’t popular (and it’s alright) but people didn’t like us because we are not like them. Or should I say, I was not like them in many ways.

1. I was not an honor student. Yeah, but it’s OK.  I’ve seen an honor student cheat in a Physics exam. I can’t be proud of an achievement if I cheated my way to it.
2. My shoes were made by an unknown brand. While the rest of the folks wore Doc Martens, Skechers, and Hush Puppies, my shoes were made in the Philippines by some unknown manufacturer.  They are cheap, fit the bill of what the school wants us to wear, and they were comfy.  I had no complaints.  But my classmates found it silly so they had to humiliate me in the canteen because of that.
3. The librarians knew my name so they laugh at that, too. Since I had nothing to do during breaks, I prefer to read.  The best place to hide and read all those Palanca compilations is in the library.  I help out the librarians sometimes.  I won stuff from the library, and again they mock me for that.
4. Contrary to popular belief, I was not a loner. I had friends but I didn’t have many. I remember I’d write short stories with some of my guy and girl friends and we’d exchange notes and read what we have made and comment on what should happen next, etc. Some weekends, Joane and I would hang out at McDonalds where we make our own Coke floats (that time, there was no Coke float at McDo) and we talk and drown our problems away with each gulp.
5. I was ugly. Seriously.  I had no boobs, awful hair, bad skin.  Well, until now I do have bad hair and skin (and I have lil twins now, LOL).  But according to Helena Rubinstein, “There are no ugly girls, just lazy ones.”  So I guess I am not lazy anymore.
6. I did very well in Trigonometry despite not owning a calculator. My dad bought me a scientific calculator but some moron stole it from my bag.  So all year, I had to go through Trigo with the help of tables.  Angles of elevation and depression were some of my favorites.  I saved my quiz notebooks because I felt so proud whenever I get a perfect score sans calculator.
7. My classmates hated my all-time favorite teacher. Sometimes I don’t get it why they didn’t like Sir Danny but he was smart, kind, and funny.  They hated him because he didn’t like their materialistic and mundane ways. He asked me, “So pano yan, they [classmates] don’t like you?” I said, “It’s OK, I don’t like them either.” I felt so bad when one of his parents passed away.  I went to Loyola to pay respect and when he introduced me to his brothers he said I was one of the brightest in school.  I was so shy but felt good because I thought he was the only one who believed in me.  About five years later, I saw him while I was in a jeepney and we stared at each other as the jeepney passed and he smiled. I wanted to get off the jeepney just to tell him that I am thankful for everything.
8. People laugh and mock me because I am me. I remember some idiot pulled up my skirt while I was standing quietly in the canteen.  He won’t do that to any of the popular girls but since I was the laughing stock, he thought he had the every right to humiliate me. I wanted to slap him for being mean but I didn’t.  More drama.  I didn’t want to end up in the Guidance Counselor’s office.
9. I wasn’t girly so no boy took interest on me. Who would take interest on a geeky girl who can go over the fence (about 10 feet high) just to skip classes?  But that’s OK.  I knew that I was there to study (and skip some of the boring classes) and I have more drama at home to deal with so no time for boys.
10. Home, school, repeat.  That’s what my schedule’s like.  I rarely go to the mall unless Joane’s going.  While the others see each other on weekends to just hang out at Rockwell, I’m at home, washing the clothes and bonding with mom. She’s home every weekend so that’s the only time I’d get to see her and talk to her.

High school was a really awful time because people talk bad stuff about other people and some just don’t like me for the clothes I wear or because I liked librarians and some of the teachers.  It’s been eight years and I think it won’t be so bad to see what my classmates are like now.  So even though high school was a drag, I’ll attend the reunion anyway.  Who knows what could happen.

A Walk Down Memory Lane

Sundays…

23 years ago – I had no idea.  I was just one year old!

18 years ago – I was attending Sunday School. “Jesus loves me that I know…”, memory verses, biscuits and fruit juices, family lunches

13 years ago – I was already attending the Sunday service because I used to sing during the service.

8 years ago – Part time Sunday school teacher. “Jesus loves me that I know…”, memory verses, biscuits and fruit juices, plus kids minus family lunches

3 years ago – I sleep on Sundays. Period.

2 weeks ago, I was in church again. Just happy in the presence of God.

1 minute from now – I will shut down my computer and get ready for church.

It looks so nice when I put it that way.  The things that happened in between was a long story.  Have a blessed Sunday everyone.