COLLEGE DAYS AT UST
JUNE TO OCTOBER, 1958...
Manila is a nice place to visit but staying there longer than a week end is different. Especially if you are a College student without much money and sometimes you do not even have two nickels to rub together.
Looking back now, about 50 years later, I try to sift the grain from the chaff, the good memories from the bad. The memories are there like various video clips stored in a huge warehouse called the brain. I can replay a certain video clip at will, especially a segment which brings joy in remembering. But for each happy episode there seems to be an unhappy one. I try to repress the unhappy ones, which is virtually impossible..It will always be there but if there is any use for them, it will be just to use them as a reference point, relative to the life I have now at the "present tense." Whatever problems I have now would pale in comparison to the problems I had before when I was still in the Philippines at that time...
There is no comparison between the University of Sto. Tomas and my old high school alma mater, but when I get homesick at the end of the day, I feel that Rizal Academy was the best school in the planet. I began to regret my studying habits because if one did not study in high school then the same thing will happen in College. The only consolation I had was the rest of my classmates were in the same boat as I was. They seem to feel we were just wasting our time attending those subjects like: HISTORY OF THE FAR EAST ( Gawd, we had to memorize those Chinese names which are no easier than the Japanese or Korean names..Or Hindu names for that matter. The best times for me are the 30 or so minutes before the start of the class, when I get to know some of my classmates ( and befriended some of them ).
One was Edgardo Concepcion. He speaks Tagalog but he said he came from Dagupan City. He can only understand the Pangasinan dialect. His dad owned the Concepcion Optical. He liked me because I am good in drawing and when I am bored, I usually make sketches of the famous movie stars at that time..James Dean has just met his death in a highway in Salinas California and many Filipino youth idolized him. I would make a quick sketch of him, show it to him, then he would say.."Can I have it?" Of course I always say "yes"I made numerous pencil sketches of Jimmy Dean and I gave them all to him.In College, especially Freshman year, you have to have at least ONE good friend.
In June 1958, James Dean was a movie icon in the Philippines I saw GIANT ( his last movie ) in the beautiful AVENUE THEATRE near the corner of Azcarraga and Avenida Rizal.
The loud mouth in our class is an Indian guy named Gordit Singh. He had glasses, a dead ringer to Buddy Holley and he can talk fluent Tagalog. I think he was born in Manila of pure Hindu parents ( plying most probably the 5-6 trade ). The Hindus in Manila then were called BOMBAYS.
So one day Gordit asked me some silly questions, while some students were in hearing range..He needed an audience.
"You know" he began.."Pangasinan is the stinkiest dialect in the Philippines.."
"Why?" I asked.."Okay", he started.."What is the Pangasinan translation of linugaw?"
"Binulbol*.." I answered.."All the other Tagalog students started to snicker.
"See what I mean? Whats the Pangasinan for ' Ano yan?' "
" Anto tan**.." This time his audience broke into an irrepressible laughter..I did not know much Tagalog at that time..The bell rang, and every one scurried to their seats like trained rats.
From that time on, I never stayed close to him before class. I just hang out with Edgar and some other likable guys and we would always talk about the current movies being shown in the first run theatres. Of course, I always saved some money to buy a ticket for one movie on a Sunday. Because of my love for movies, I dropped my ROTC subject ( which takes place on a Sunday morning ) because it interfered with my movie watching.
Besides, I really hated ROTC. I hated the officers who seem to be putting down the Platoon of privates all the time. But one has to finish four semesters of this useless subject in order to get a University diploma.
Around the middle of the semester, I already decided the course is no good for me and would never return to the UST to finish the whole year..#
( to be continued )
*Bulbol in Tagalog means pubic hair
**Anto tan, added with K becomes Kantotan, which in Tagalog means sex intercourse..
1 comment:
Hehe, yep, I always look back to my own college days in Manila whenever I meet some problems, and yep when I was in the US I always looked back to Manila days and the problems would then seem trivial.
First world countries are spoiled, as one nurse said, after attending a medical mission in Africa.
Thus, I now try to live life like I did in college. Of course, it helps the mind to know I now have some money to spare, but at the risk of being spoiled I dont indulge in what many would call now necessaries.
Life was simple back and college, but it was the fondest and most significant of memories. You never know life till you suffer.
I dont own a bed now, I sleep on the floor. I slept on the floor in manila during college, in a cramped room along with four others, yes right along pedro gil, we called it herran then.
I dont own a car, dont buy digitals, and I cook my food the firewood way.
Yes, I do frequent the movies, like in College.
It is not that I hate modern stuff, but I like to remember the good old days, and really youll find that life is so much easier, and enjoyable, when youve got few things in ownership, and few things to worry about.
I got spoiled when I was in the US too. When I came home after studying there and working there for several years, I wanted the same comforts here in the Philippines. the same cleanliness, the same convenience, the same efficiency, the same Fairness and Justice.
Which made me miserable, of course, given the state of things here.
So after only about a year, i went back to the US, this time aiming for good. But, after several years, i remembered college, and how hard life was in Manila, yet how sweet and satisfying!
I hurried home, and ever since I made my home at home, leaving only for a month or so to visit and relive memories of my days abroad.
But I always find myself wanting to wake up on the floor, at 5am, to chop firewood.....
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