By RUDY D. LIPORADA
One of the events I am looking forward to early this 2018 is our Golden Jubilee Reunion of Saint Louis University Boys’ High School (SLUBHS) Reunion this coming January 26-28 in Baguio City, Philippines.
Recalling, it was then a leap year.
It was the Age of Aquarius, a time of heavenly explorations, of upheavals, a new renaissance. It was a time for SLUBHS Class ’68. It was a time for 360 or so adolescents shredding the vestiges of their high school days to enter uncertain years that will define the bearings of their future niches in society.
For most, 1968 would end the weekdays of rushing every morning to slide down through a muddy Mount Mary during rainy days or rushing through Magsaysay Avenue in Baguio City, bumping through those slow pokes, so as not to be late for the “Bayang Magiliw” and the “Panatang Makabayan”. Those who behaved in the lines were spared from the yelling of Tarzan. Yes, we can still hear the thumping of those shoes as we snaked up those stairs with youthful energy – some of us may no longer possess. And all day long it was 2x + y – x= 0; Ang Alamat ng Bayabas, F=MA, Dogma and Predestination, subjects must agree with the verbs, etc., broken only by recess and lunch (garnished with basketball intramurals with Sir Bacamante blowing his whistle on the points or fouls with his akin to dance gestures).
After school, we had the PMTs marching, the scouts tying their knots. We had the Columbian Squires, the chess club, and other clubs. Then others would troop to STC, St. Louis Girls’ High, Maryknoll or Holy Family; with many so shy that they would just stand by fringes of the girls’ schools hoping to merely glance at girls who pretend that we do not even exist. For several of us, those look-see blossomed to steady periods with some ripening to fruition of happy current marriages.
Then graduation came with uncertain futures. What was only certain was four years was done and it was time to march towards arming ourselves with further tools that would make us serve society.
And just like that.
Within the blink of time, most of us became doctors, architects, accountants, pilots, engineers, government officials, entrepreneurs, or embedded as part of the Filipino Diaspora – serving in different capacities in foreign lands.
And now most of us, if not all, have gone past the barrier of the song “When I Am Sixty-Four.” Most, if not all, have retired from our professions or vocations. Most, if not all, already have grandchildren.
And looking back, we also have our teachers to thank.
We did not know then if words like ‘nincompoop’ would ever play for something in our unknown future. We did not know why we had to squeeze our brains just to prove that Angle ABC is congruent to Angle DEF. Nope. We did not even know why we had to memorize those phylum families or why the heart has four chambers. Why did we always have to find x when it was just the third to the last letter of the alphabet. Who cared that much about vectors?
And talking about letters, why did they have to force us to have correct spellings and increase our vocabulary. Words like ‘take care of your health while you are young, and your health will take care of you when you grow old,’ were so taken lightly for we were in the most robust state of health.
Nope, those things did not matter much as we drifted through our school days, even whining about those terror teachers.
Then we graduated and entered college, finished our careers, had our own families… and we are here, beyond six decades of our lives.
Then we realize, unconsciously or consciously, that those teachers, terrors or not, soft-spoken or often grouchy, sprinkled in us more than tidbits of knowledge, evolved further our wisdom that helped us navigate the rigors of life in our found niches in society.
Thus, our reunion will be a time for joy, reaching a milestone in a chapter of our lives. It is a time to reminisce those times when we spent hours in the campus, in the classrooms, or with each other in extracurricular activities – as classmates, as friends, or as just batch mates.
50th Jubilees just happen once in a lifetime. We will savor ours. # nordis.net