Phenomenal: A High School Memoir

(This one is for both my classmates and teachers in high school.)

Phenomenal: A High School Memoir

My high school years in Pangasinan State University-College of Education Laboratory High School – that’s from 1983 to 1987 – are one of the happiest years of my life. Sometimes, I am surprised when I tell this to people and they say they can’t relate because high school to them means a lot of painful memories. I feel sorry for them.

First, let me qualify that when I say “happiest years,” it doesn’t mean those years were free from painful memories, because there certainly were such episodes. But the happy ones are a lot more predominant. Who was I to complain?

A Campus Conducive to Learning

I think the campus grounds played not a minor role in it. In PSU, there were visually appealing edifices, an abundance of different trees, and inviting open spaces everywhere you went.

Three buildings struck me as beautiful: the Main Building in front of the big expanse of green, the Elementary-Kindergarten Bldg. to its left, and the so-called RSDC or Science Bldg. at the farthest end.

The Main Building is a distinguished-looking neoclassical concrete and wooden affair from the Gabaldon period, with tall columns and graceful arches, wide steps, and large capiz windows. The grade school building is comparably humble in proportion but nonetheless as dignified-looking. In front of it is a neat line of more than a century-old acacia trees that provided much-needed shade. The Science Bldg. is squat and square modern structure, with a surprise of an indoor garden with lotus ponds on both sides.

Around the spacious campus grounds, I could spot a variety of rainforest trees I wasn’t familiar with but whose beauty I found equally eye-catching. From one of the classrooms, I noticed thickets where some mysterious white-spotted black birds in the understory dwelled (could be a shama species). Why sulk at all amidst these alluring sights?

The High School Bldg. per se, located at the back where most of our classes were held, is not among the structures that visually inspire, but it is a serviceable, no-frills two-story building. The same can be said of the Aldana Gymnasium, Library, and other buildings that look more on the functional than aesthetic side.

The architecture of the oldest structures and the layout of the university in general are obviously an adaptation from American sensibilities. It is a thoughtful design, most suitable for young minds thirsting for illumination -- not bad at all, compared with the best in the country, namely the expansive green campuses of UP Diliman, Ateneo, La Salle, UST, etc.

My Classmates

For someone who didn’t fit the popular stereotype of a jock or varsity player, a poor student like me from the wrong side of town was a strong candidate for bullying of all sorts – we all know how children can be the meanest of creatures. It didn’t help that most of my classmates were the children of the most prominent families in our town of Bayambang, Pangasinan. For someone who was a definition of the annoying, bookish type called nerd or geek, I am thankful to have largely escaped such a cruel fate, except maybe for name-callings behind my back, which I half-expected.

The others, I must admit, were not so lucky because they were re-baptized with a pangaran (Pangasinan term for a nickname meant to be a putdown), replacing the Christian names on their birth certificates. For example, a particularly dark-complexioned girl was called “Black Beans” every time. But the victims didn’t seem to mind those admittedly funny labels at all, at least for the most part.

Instead, one of the strongest suits of our batch is how much we enjoyed each other’s company each and every day. After all, almost everyone had a funny nickname which were often told to their faces like it was the norm. Bullying was not yet a familiar word at the time. If you were bullied, you didn’t show weakness by getting intimidated one bit, you get back at your tormentors in creative ways. In that way, you evened out the scores.

There never was a dull moment in school. In fact, I was inspired to keep a diary of our happenings. (Too bad I was forced to burn it for a personal reason, which is just as well. I don’t like the idea of someday implicating real people who had figured in highly confidential accounts of youthful inanities.)

It’s particularly amusing how the American TV shows and movies we’ve all watched the night before on TV (“McGyver,” etc.) would be the hot topic the next day, with such an animated exchange of notes. One of our teachers remarked, her head shaking in disbelief, “Pare-pareho niyo namang napanood, pinagkukuwenuhan niyo pa ng walang-tigil!” Or words to that effect.

Being high schoolers who didn’t know any better, of course the daily scene was no different from the local TV show “Iskul Bukol.” I mean, not a day would pass that we didn’t do a naughty thing or two either as individuals or as a class.

High school meant the ever-present folly and frivolity of all kinds, as expected of youth with rampaging hormones – puppy love, actual pairings, jealousies, love triangles, lovers’ quarrels or LQ, and there were the silent academic rivalries, the flagrant cheating during exams – name it, we certainly went through it all.

Despite my painfully shy self, I managed to be Mr. Nice Guy, on friendly terms with just about everyone. Even though I gravitated towards social outcasts like, say, Joel Macam (lanky), Jonathan Duldulao (small stature), Rodel Tomas (on the stout side), et al., I could hold a decent conversation with everyone, and I genuinely liked them all in various degrees just because they were my batch-mates at PSU Lab HS.

From PSU Laboratory Elementary School, there was, among the girls, the shapely and very intimidating Estela Marie ‘Jona’ Elegado, their class valedictorian and whose family was from Manaoag town. The half-Caucasian and tomboyish Jennifer ‘Jen’/’Jenny’ Pacia. The skinny Frances Duque, who was nicknamed ‘Dukyang,’ the term for a local clam. The very girlish Ana Ria Alarin from faraway Amanperez. The sardonically comical and self-assured Mira Jimenez. The outspoken and oftentimes blunt Blesilda ‘Bidang’ Padua. The cute and sweet Menchu Soriano, often called Chu-chu-men. The comely Ivy Marie Lim. The shy and withdrawn Melanie Navarette. Among the boys, there was the gentlemanly Feliciano ‘Badz’ Casingal III, he who walked with a prince-like bearing but was sometimes called Besngaw, which referred to his nostrils, which flared a bit. The obviously clever Jonathan Duldulao, sometimes referred to as Badul. The well-chiseled and talented Francis ‘Sit’ Untalan. The reticent, ‘silent type’ Edward Lopez, a.k.a. ‘Dove’ or ‘Bulik,’ so-named because of his freckled skin. The naughty Jimmy ‘Jim’ Quinto. The aloof Lauro ‘Larry’ Poquiz. The playful Joseph Nagal. The fair-skinned Rodelio Galsim. And the sporty and musically inclined Rodel Tomas, who was constantly tormented for being a little bit chubbier than most.

Soon Jimmy Quinto would decide to enter the seminary -- a big surprise to all, as Jimmy was always the playful tease -- and Joseph Nagal transferred to Agno National High School, so their slots were replaced with two other transferees. There was the fun-loving Allen Contreras, often called Taweng, from Allen-taweng, meaning crazy, and the one-of-a-kind, hilarious, and flamboyant Chito Escaño, he with the appallingly wicked humor, also both from PSU Elem-KD Lab. (Being from another school, I wasn’t privy to the history behind those nicknames, so don’t ask me.)

From Bayambang Central School, there was, apart from myself, the man of a few words Arthur ‘Art’ Torres. The humble, unassuming Joel Macam. The late bloomer Benjoe Agbuya. The mischievous Melvin Garay. The wise and sensible Waldy Ferrer. The quiet and cautious Raquel Velasquez. The noisy Angelina ‘Helen’ Pacquing. The mysterious and of writerly temperament Jocelyn Inacay. The light-hearted Mina Rita Rosario. And the sensitive Mariza Flor Mata.

From Pogo Catholic School, La Union, there was the diminutive Ma. Salome Guevarra.

From St. John Institute in Bautista, there was the bright colegiala killer/campus heartthrob Guillermo ‘Joy’/’Choy’ Te, their class valedictorian. The low-profile and ramrod straight Cesar Bactad. The equally bright Isagani Aguilar. The ever-impish rascal Erwin Ted Reginaldo, who, because of his dark skin tone, was sometimes called Bugkalot by those much too comfortable with him. The clean-cut Ephraim ‘Paeng’ Parayno. And the well-mannered Myra Flor Castro.

From Nalsian Elementary School came the math wizard Edthen Espiritu, their own valedictorian. The muscular Don Rexton Gloria. And the inhibited Dennis ‘Dencio’ Salopagio.

From San Carlos City, there was the wide-eyed Margarita ‘Margot’ Reyes, and from Basista town, there was the seemingly simple Marivic ‘Mavic’ Mendoza, also called ‘Baliw’ because on the first day of our class, riding a motorbike (an unusual thing for a young girl at the time), she bravely performed a hysterical monologue entitled, “Baliw”, whose first lines were, “Baliw? Baliw? Ako nga ba’y isang baliw?” She had our jaws dropping to the ground, as we didn’t quite know what to do with her extremely bold performance.

By graduation time, we were 21 boys and 20 girls all in all. As an old Beatles song put it, “I loved them all.” I am friends with all of these people up to this time, even though I haven’t spoken to a number of them in a long time.

I am particularly grateful for these friends in high school because they were a part of many treasured memories in the most delicate years of life, at the cusp of youth and young adulthood, so the imprint they have left must have been deep and intense. In the ups and downs of life, we have always been there for one another, even when, now and then, there were some little differences between this and that classmate.

We showed such a strong sense of camaraderie, even developed a deep bond of friendship, which was a remarkable phenomenon considering that we all came from schools that viewed other schools in town as fierce rivals. I am speaking now from my own personal perspective, but I believe it is for this reason that we called our batch ’D Phenomenals. In our experience of secondary education, ironically in a secular school at that but administered by highly religious educators, it was like we experienced God’s love unexpectedly through one another as “brothers and sisters from another mother," our alma mater.

It was therefore especially a sad day when we lost four of our batch-mates one by one, for various reasons and at various times: Edward to a stray bullet in Manila, and Joel, Cesar, and Chito to disease. Each time, it was always like losing a family member.

My Esteemed Mentors

Another thing I will find impossible to begrudge is the kind of teachers I had in high school. One day, I was burning some dusty old stuff at home when I saw this bunch of mimeographed papers the color of ash. They turned out to be old exam papers from PSU Lab infested with mold, mildew, and silverfish. I had to discard all of them, save for one copy that I decided to keep as a cherished memento.

While I was dumping the rest into the garbage bin, I got flooded with memories and feelings of all kinds, as I suddenly got reminded of the kind of teachers I was fortunate to have.

In no particular order, there was, of course, Ms. Cristeta Dulos – whom my class fondly called “Ma’am Tets,” a kayumanggi beauty and brains. (She was among the Latin honorees in her batch in PSU-CEd which included the magna cum laude Sir Eduardo Doyaoen, who was also impressively smart.) Ma’am Tets was not just our teacher in Social Studies and World History, but she was also our class adviser, so definitely my classmates and I have a lot of stories with her that get told and retold during reunions.

I can’t explain what personal qualities she possessed that she was able to tame a highly intimidating (because extremely unruly) batch like ours, with “pasaway” students like Chito, Jennifer, Erwin, et al. I think it’s her unusual combination of smarts that worked for her, including a horse sense of what approach would work best among our particularly difficult bunch. In Tagalog, nakuha niya ang kiliti namin.

A young Ms. Maricel Gomez, a fresh grad from UP Baguio, was actually our first class adviser, but early on in her assignment, she went ballistic when she found our class too uncontrollable. I think she resigned because of it (or not).

Prof. Fe Macaraeg taught us Filipino. She was a very prayerful woman who didn’t hesitate to say what was on her mind. There was a time we would trade barbs on the school’s freedom wall, and it entertained us no end that she was what they call now as patola or patolera (she would respond to juvenile tomfoolery that should otherwise be beneath her dignity as a teacher), quoting Shakespeare and all.

Dr. Regina ‘Regie’ Rosales also taught us Filipino. We often bullied her because we found her funny in many ways, but we learned a lot of native literary terms from her, from duplo to komedya to moro-moro.

Fresh grads Ms. Elizabeth Iglesias (another UP Baguio alumna) taught Biology, while Ms. Ma. Vilma Ungos (also from UP Baguio) taught Physics. It was hard to imagine how such young ladies could be so beauteous and brainy at the same time, but I learned that it was possible – a proof, I held, that God was not always fair.

Ms. Bessie Ramos taught Math. This one is a genius, I swear, based on much she knew her stuff and the way she taught it. With her, Math became enjoyable because she made the world of numbers seem like magic.

The mild-mannered Ms. Wilma Muena (now de Vera) taught Chemistry. Funny but I can’t forget it when she suddenly asked what Pb for lead, Au for gold, Hg for mercury, and Na for sodium literally stand for, and of course li’l old studious me rattled off the Latin answers unexpectedly like it’s the most natural thing in the world to do: plumbum, aurum, hydrargyrum, and natrium. I felt quite embarrassed that I knew such unexpected things, and I am pretty sure I came off as being an annoying “TH” or trying hard (to impress, that is) among my peers, but I guess the thrill of knowing something arcane that most others didn’t know prevailed in me. (I mean, what fool would read footnotes in high school textbooks?)

Prof. Caridad Junio taught Practical Arts, meaning, practical knowledge in agricultural, including vegetable gardening and hog and chicken raising.

Prof. Marina Padilla (RIP) taught us Social Studies and Philippine History. She had this mannerism or tic with her face that made her prone to students who loved to make fun of it, so of course, she constantly fell victim to it behind her back, even though she carried herself with such gravitas.

Prof. Rufino Menor (RIP) taught Music. He trained us to sing as a choral group, and I found myself being grouped with the tenors. Surrounded by all sorts of musical instruments, from bandurrias to water-filled glass bottles to bamboo angklungs, the man impressed me with his passion for music, which carried over to his blue jeans. Instead of say, the familiar Levi’s brand, his jeans carried the G-clef on his back pocket.

Prof. Felipe Tomas also taught Music. One of the more low-profile personalities on campus, his passion for music is equally notable, in fact spilling over to his sons Ronaldo and Rodel who knew how to play trumpets and other musical instruments.

Prof. Proserfina Zaragoza (RIP) taught Science, but she got ill in the middle of a semester and never got back. I think she was replaced by Dr. Porfirio Basilio, a tall, dark man who had a humble but dignified demeanor.

Ms. Gladys Tan (from UP Los Baños) taught us English. This teacher really knew her subject! She taught us a lot of things we’ve never heard before like “Beowulf,” “Song of Roland,” "Nibelungenlied,” “Canterbury Tales,” and don’t get me started on grammar and mechanics. As a writer today, I would say that she single-handedly made the biggest impact on me. Despite myself, however, those lessons on sentence structure deconstruction were the ones I liked the least, with all those S-V-O, S-V-IO-O and so on, because they looked like mathematical equations, haha.

Prof. Erlinda Cuchapin taught Geometry and Basic Algebra. Boy, was she good, but very strict! You didn’t fool around in her class. As proof of her skill, she made me love algebra when I hated math with a passion.

Prof. Lita Saygo taught Advanced Algebra. She was more relaxed than most, but it is a testament to her brilliance that I would fall in love with such esoteric things like sine, cosine, tangent, cotangent, and whatnot against all expectations.

Prof. Jameson Bala handled Trigonometry. He was another teacher we often made fun of just because of his surname. I am not sure what I learned here, but I remember drawing lots of y axes and x axes and a tortured feeling that I wasn't as intelligent as I was told to be. What a humbling feeling to be in his class.

Prof. Azucena Elegado taught PE. "I am kindhearted," she once said by way of introduction, "but I am a tiger when I get angry," scaring the heck out of us all.

Another professor taught PE, but her name escapes me now, but she was fond of saying, “As you were!” She struck a firm presence, the kind of woman that you didn’t dare cross, or else...

Prof. Perez taught Home Economics. I can’t forget the many different dishes we prepared in her cooking class, and her and her chum Mrs. Milan’s feedback made us nervous because they were razor-sharp observations on our failings. “The cucumber is “malamuyak (slimy),” “this ingredient is not cold enough,” “this kangkong is not crunchy as it should be," and so on.

Prof. Myrna Miguel taught Health, including basic sex education -- you know, the birds and the bees. I don't think we ended up being promiscuous because of those lessons, so maybe the delicate topic was handled properly.

Prof. Bernardo Jimenez taught us Citizen’s Army Training. It involved lots of tiring drills under the sun, with him barking loud orders under threats of punishments like push-ups.

Prof. Magsanoc taught Practical Arts. In his class, I remember encountering terms like certain breeds of chicken and goat and indigenous raw materials for weaving (nito, pandan, etc.) and names of weaves (chevron, etc.).

Prof. Cuaresma also taught Practical Arts. From him, I learned a lot of things like mortise and tenon, electrical splices, and so on. He was particularly good in woodworking. He was an original DIY guy. I was impressed with how he was able to produce elegant tables and chairs out of wood.

We had a teacher with the highly unusual name of Ms. Febe Namnama Bose (“namnama” means hope in Ilocano, she explained). She was a wisp of a young woman, like she couldn’t hurt a fly. She taught us Music, but she was suddenly gone before we got to know her better. It turns out that she transferred to Narvacan High School in faraway Ilocos.

Prof. Ben O. Romero (RIP) taught Pilipino and served as our adviser in the school organ, "Banyuhay," which he founded, the title a portmanteau for "bagong anyo ng buhay."

Our Principals were Prof. Benigno Castro (RIP), Dr. Pio Oineza (RIP), and Dr. Loria. The last one made quite an impression on me, as she was particularly a learned lady (she taught English) and she brought with her an interesting collection displayed in a cabinet case, that of different kinds of rock (igneous, metamorphic, sedimentary) and other curiosities.

The College Dean at the time, the bespectacled, authoritative-looking Dean Trinidad Montero, is now a nun in America.

It must be noted that our teachers served concurrently as college professors. It is called Laboratory School because it exists as a classroom laboratory for the College of Education’s student-teachers. Yes, we Laboratorians were like lab rats or petri dish for the purpose of teacher education, and this means that, on top of our licensed teachers, we had so many classes presided by the yearly batches of student-teachers of PSU. This means there were hundreds and hundreds of student-teachers who experimented on us through our four years of stay. But the special arrangement of being under college professors when we were just studying in high school didn’t escape us.

As fate would have it, I would study in UP Baguio for college, the same school as a number of my teachers had gone to. In UP Baguio, what I immediately noticed is that I might have college profs with masterals and PhDs, but most of them couldn't hold a candle to my high school teachers when it came to teaching because they didn't take up Methods of Teaching. That's how I know I was quite lucky to have the kind of high schools teachers I had and it was such an honor to be under their tutelage.

Come to think of it -- maybe I wouldn't have been able to pass a DOST scholarship exam and get a college education for free, were it not for the strong fundamentals that my teachers gave me, especially in the fields of English, science, and math.

Whatever resentment I harbored in my heart, or whatever perceived inadequacy I had from my experience, it easily melts away in the face of the many good things I got. Therefore, more than being a proud alumnus of the school, I am eternally grateful for having walked down its halls and through its portals, having laughed so heartily (for various reasons) that the sound of mirth reached the rafters, and having lived my young carefree life with so much fond memories worth recalling over and over.