My room was at its messiest state last week. I was lazily basking in the change, savoring the sweet rebellion against the compulsive reality and proving that I can live like a pig after all, if only for a few days. My things were left in disarray because I kept forgetting to buy the boxes I kept promising to buy so that I can finally snuff my stuff in, so that I can free my room (and myself) of the clutter, and move on.
But then I realized I'm just afraid. Afraid to accept the fact that I'm leaving soon. I'm more than happy to move on and is in fact looking forward to it. But what scares me is that there's nothing on the map that says where to, nothing on my planner that reveals my next stop. I'm stuck in the middle of Bum Island and it feels like looking at a number of passing ferry boats but I can't quite figure out where to hop on.
Cleaning does crazy things to a person. Especially when you know you're rearranging a place for the last time. So far, I've had two big boxes full of clothes and sentimental litters that I know I can do away with if not for the memories attached to them. I'm thinking of selling my blue Orocan and my His Dark Materials trilogy. I'm thinking of a lot of things, of wasted time and precious moments, of which road to take and what plans to make, of the pictures that I took - of the room and myself - and the promises that are yet to be fulfilled. I am sure as hell gonna miss that room, the dorm, and the close friends that I've woven memory blankets with.
Just something I copied from the terrible beauty which he also copied from the loquacious lady…
1. Student number?
*02-1-00726
2. College?
*College of Business Administration
3. Ano ang course mo?
*BBA-Management
4. Nag-shift ka ba o na-kickout?
*People thought I shifted to Management from MassCom which I never did. I was Management all the way.
5. Saan ka kumuha ng SUAPE?
*Silliman U.
6. Favorite subject?
*Mostly major subjects with incompetent teachers…tsk tsk tsk
7. Favorite PE?
*God I hated PE!
8. Saan ka nag-aabang ng hot babe/men sa SU?
* Wala jud koy panahon ana…ahahahahaha
9. Favorite prof?
a. Dr. Cleope
b. Atty. Futalan
c. Dr. Engcoy
1 0. Pinaka-ayaw na subject.
Extra Subjects in Filipino, History, and PE
11. Nakapag-field trip ka ba?
* Duh
12. Ano ang Org/Frat/Soro mo?
*SUCCA, tWS, HFH, and many more
13. Saan ka tumatambay palagi?
*tWS office, Library, SOAD, Kiosk
14. Dorm, Boarding house, o Bahay?
*Off-campus Dorm
15. Sino ang pinaka-una mong nakilala sa SU?
*Carson Roommates
16. First play na napanood mo sa SU?
*The King and I
17. Saan ka madalas mag-lunch?
*Chowking, Chowking, Chowking
18. Masaya ba sa SU?
*I wouldn’t last this long I wasn’t happy so…
19. Ilang beses ka bumoto sa SG elections?
*Twice...once for Razcel (and Claudio) and once for Lyde
Finally! a movie for panda-obsessed people like me!
Po the Panda (Jack Black) must train under legendary kung fu master Shifu (Dustin Hoffman) and join forces with his Furious Five fighters to defeat a dangerous enemy. Can a slacker panda working in a noodle soup change his destiny?
Over chicken al pesto and fish ala pobre, Kim and I found ourselves animatedly swapping childhood stories raging from our families’ odd backgrounds to the nannies and babysitters who have come and gone out of our lives. While Kim’s nanny experience briefly ended when her mom decided against hiring strangers to care for her daughter, mine turned out to be a dragging unlikely story.
Now that I was into the subject, I wondered what happened to Perla, the curly-haired bubbly barrio lass. My mother hired her when I was barely a year old so all I knew of her was squeezed out from older people's memory. Perla's family used to be my maternal grandparents' neighbor. They were poor and hungry so out of pity, Mama hired her to be my nanny. Perla was talkative, even tsimosa, as my mother distastefully described. But she was hardworking despite mood swings and helpful despite her suicidal tendencies. Mama could've sworn Perla was good so you could just imagine her horror when she saw the girl stark naked on the terrace ready to jump!
When I was four, I almost died in the hands of the big boned mountain lady named Inday. Why my supposedly prudent mother ever considered her I would never know but I certainly remember Inday’s ominous stares and untrustworthy smirk. When my parents left me in her care for a few weeks, I remember fearing her strangely callused hands as they threatened to spank me. I admit I was a mischievous kid. But then every bad little girl had a nightmare zone she dared not enter, and mine was a room with Inday. I remember how terrified of her I was. But then it wasn’t her fault she looked like a wrestler. She lived high up in the middle of a mountainous nowhere. I thought it was because she hadn’t been around people much and that she hadn’t played yaya to anyone but me that she behaved the way she did.
I understood her inexperience when she fed me junk food for dinner and forced me to gulp down the cheap tasting pineapple sold at the park while she ate my healthy food and drank all my milk. I even tried liking her even though she drove my cousins mad when she refused to let them hold me. I couldn’t help sympathizing with her. Either that or I was just too young to realize there was mentally wrong with her. Or maybe I was just plain stupid. Destined to be kept in the dark ‘til the grown-ups come and rescue me. Because I certainly wasn’t able to tell that she was feeding me less and less everyday. It didn’t register that she was sleeping inside my parents’ bedroom more and more frequently. I didn’t feel any tension that one night when my godmother kicked the door open and found her snoring like a train, one arm fully rested on a bunch of pillows stuffed on my face.
As if I my experience with Inday wasn’t distressing enough, my mother (who was too angry to say anything except “You’re fired!” upon learning of my ordeal) hired another – surprise, surprise – intellectually deprived nanny. This time it was Ana, a meek teenager who was a distant cousin of – drum rolls, please – Perla!
Ana wasn’t as bad as her porn star-wannabe cousin. She was just too quiet, too shy, and too sheltered from the world. So it didn’t matter that when I invited her to color some Looney Tunes characters, she chose violet for Porky Pig (they probably have grape-colored pigs at the farm) and orange for Bugs. It didn’t matter that she talked to herself almost all the time, and disappeared without asking permission only to come back days after saying she was just checking out the neighbor’s garden. It would’ve sounded natural if the neighbors actually had a garden.
At least Ana didn’t try to kill me (but my brother almost fell down the stairs while she was busy staring into space) and thank God my mother didn’t wait for history to repeat itself. Last time I heard of her, she got married and bore three kids. So I guess she lived happily ever after in her little cottage next to her cousin's.
We got by with little help after that. My mother never left our side long enough for another Inday-like disaster to occur and I’ve forgotten about the nannies and babysitters that came and went by our lives, until Nene came. She was a long-time friend of my mother's. She was in fact the first person who took care of me right when I was born. She was in need of a job and my mother was just too glad to offer her one. I was in second grade and my brother just turned two. We loved her instantly. She was cool and funny, and she she taught me to appreciate music and defend myself from bullies. At times when my mother seemed unfair, I ran to her for support.
But then I was more afraid of her than with Inday. She pampered us like royalty but she ruled with iron fist. She knew we were scared of her and she made sure it stayed that way. She was a jolly clown, but she cursed like a convict. She smoked marijuana and took drugs, sweet talked me into giving her money so that she can go visit her relatives, and smeared my mother's character so that I grew up hating her more. Nene was the longest-serving nanny I ever had but she was also the most feared. I knew she loved us but, as much as I tried, I couldn't force myself to respect her. In spite of my happy if obscured memories with her, all I could remember was the hopeless look on her eyes when she tried committing suicide in front of me and her pale clenched fist when she threatened my brother.
When she packed her bags and left, my 10-year-old heart felt devastated and free at the same time. I knew I was watching a part of myself move on. And as I watched Nene walk away into the distance, I knew I was saying goodbye not only to her but also to Perla, Ana, and Inday.
I should be crying tears of joy right now for passing my Finance finals and completing the requirements that took a loooong time to finally get into the right containers. I just can't believe I'm almost there, almost at that makeshift pedestal where all the eager young (and not so young) hopefuls pass on the way to the real world - the harsh, selfish world.
I should be smiling up to my ears for finally, finally finishing most of my obligations (I still have that freaking scrapbook to make for the Weekly Sillimanian and an inventory to do for the university property custodian) and almost bringing home the sweet evidence of my more that 5 year-struggle in this bittersweet campus by the sea.
I should be grinning...But I'm just too happy and no amount of showing it could explain the joy I'm feeling.
Funny how these last-minute encounters changed my perspective: the tear-strained encounter with Atty. Futalan after our [lousy] Feasibility defense and the Manila field trip which actually gave me a chance to bond with my CBA classmates (see how I've matured!) and found out they're not so bad after all, the late night feasibility meetings that usually ended up undone, and the semi-overtime sessions at DTI-NPO just to finish my 120 practicum hours required for me to march.
I've finally become a CBA student, not because I actually hang out with CBA people aside from Donna and Jan7 now but because I actually feel like one. I've learned to respect my teachers especially Atty. Futalan for believing in me, and although I haven't been hanging around CBA that much, I know I'm going to miss the 36-million building of state-of-the-art facilities and fiber glass windows (Campus Amba talking...hehe). I'll never forget that one fateful feasibility project that had me staying awake for almost 24 hours and crying my eyes out for weeks.
I've finally made friends that, although for a brief moment, have become part of what I'll always look back on and treasure. After a few detours and distractions, I'm FINALLY graduating! I could be shouting at the top of my lungs or skip happily around Silliman, my home and my life for 6 years. I'm finally finally going up that stage and receiving my diploma and I could only thank God for everything I've gone through.
Happy or not, all the memories were made just right.
I should be smiling up to my ears for finally, finally finishing most of my obligations (I still have that freaking scrapbook to make for the Weekly Sillimanian and an inventory to do for the university property custodian) and almost bringing home the sweet evidence of my more that 5 year-struggle in this bittersweet campus by the sea.
I should be grinning...But I'm just too happy and no amount of showing it could explain the joy I'm feeling.
Funny how these last-minute encounters changed my perspective: the tear-strained encounter with Atty. Futalan after our [lousy] Feasibility defense and the Manila field trip which actually gave me a chance to bond with my CBA classmates (see how I've matured!) and found out they're not so bad after all, the late night feasibility meetings that usually ended up undone, and the semi-overtime sessions at DTI-NPO just to finish my 120 practicum hours required for me to march.
I've finally become a CBA student, not because I actually hang out with CBA people aside from Donna and Jan7 now but because I actually feel like one. I've learned to respect my teachers especially Atty. Futalan for believing in me, and although I haven't been hanging around CBA that much, I know I'm going to miss the 36-million building of state-of-the-art facilities and fiber glass windows (Campus Amba talking...hehe). I'll never forget that one fateful feasibility project that had me staying awake for almost 24 hours and crying my eyes out for weeks.
I've finally made friends that, although for a brief moment, have become part of what I'll always look back on and treasure. After a few detours and distractions, I'm FINALLY graduating! I could be shouting at the top of my lungs or skip happily around Silliman, my home and my life for 6 years. I'm finally finally going up that stage and receiving my diploma and I could only thank God for everything I've gone through.
Happy or not, all the memories were made just right.
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