MANILA, Philippines - It has been 14 days since Assumption Batch 1985, this year’s silver jubilarians, staged their Velada, joined by the various other jubilarians (Diamond, Batch 1950; Emerald, Batch 1955; Gold, Batch 1960; Ruby, Batch 1970; Jade, Batch 1975; and Pearl, Batch 1980). Finally, the months of grueling practices are behind us, we are back to our regular home and work schedules. Those who live far, like myself, have gone home, some to islands outside of Manila, some abroad.
Yet, the chatter and huddling have not stopped, now mostly done through Facebook and e-mail.
There has been an endless stream of pictures, video and messages about the Velada practices, and performance night. We haven’t stopped talking about it; many have marked their status as “Still on a Velada high.” What is the Velada high? The word “high” denotes a “natural excited state or euphoria.” From the Velada? Why? Still going strong, 14 days and beyond? How?
I can start with one reason. Who would have thought Batch 1985 could pull it through? As the batch who described ourselves, self-depreciatingly, as “Kenneths,” or “cannot dance and cannot sing,” coming up with ‘80s songs and Madonna-inspired production numbers, that looked polished and graceful, was an accomplishment beyond our wildest dreams. It drew genuine praises from the audience who found it simple and down-to-earth, yet delightful and entertaining. We called our show, “Vive La Difference,” as we predicted from the beginning, that our “shy, retiring,” laid-back personalities would not give in to the pressure of coming up with a dazzling, elaborate show. Our Velada high was about sticking to our true colors and still winning the audience over.
The Velada high also comes from the resilience of the Assumption spirit. The Velada experience became “real” to me, as early as our third stage rehearsal day, when the Emerald Batch of 1955, returned to practice, after losing a member, Maria Paz Rufino Laurel Tanjangco, who collapsed fatally, during the first stage rehearsal day, at Mother Rose Hall. The Batch ‘55 said they had come back to “dance” for their fallen sister, who indicated, just days before her death, that she spent happy moments, practicing their dance number, to the song “Volare,” with her classmates. I echoed in my mind, a remark similar to what Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis said of her mother-in-law, Rose Kennedy, who kept her chin up, despite multiple tragedies striking her family, “Such thoroughbreds!”
On performance night, Maria Paz’s daughters, Isabel Barandiaran, Farah Imperial and Marisun Uichico, all Assumption girls themselves, joined the Emerald batch, in bowing before the audience, after the performance. For all Assumptionists, the time will come, when we can no longer join Assumption events, whether by infirmity or even death. But our Assumption spirit will always live on, through the relationships we have forged and created. That is the legacy of Maria Paz to us.
Defining the Velada high further, is not at all a difficult task in the age of Facebook. Just read the posts, and view the uploaded videos and pictures for the last 14 days. It is about old friends reconnecting, it is about schoolmates who were not friends in high school finally becoming friends and chums on Facebook, it is about meeting your schoolmates’ children, and likewise meeting your schoolmates’ mothers who happen to be your fellow jubilarians this year. It is about the bonding during rehearsals, and the opportunity it gave us to laugh at each other’s gaffes. It is also about the quiet voices in high school, who have bloomed since, and now are reaching out, more confidently in their grown-up splendor. And it is about all of us accepting each other now, as who we have become, regardless of what we may have been like 25 years ago. The Pearl Batch of 1980 summarized this thought, so aptly for us, in the introduction they wrote to their show-stopping dance number. “We embrace our beginnings, but also celebrate the women we have evolved to be.”
In the final stretch of the preparation for the Velada, it didn’t matter among us anymore how long one had been involved. Some had been there since the fund-raising events began three years ago, some not till the dance practices started four months ago, and some more, especially those who live out of town or abroad, not till the last week. At the Velada finale, we even paused to remember our classmates who have gone ahead of us, Christine Zialcita, Monica Jurilla, Cindy Teehankee and Maria Tan Edwards. And then we enjoined the audience, who included our beloved nuns and teachers, to sing with us the school hymns, that never fail to tug at our hearts, Assumpta Est Maria and All Hail to Our Beloved Assumption.
And after final curtain went down, we exited, not through the backstage, but toward the audience. And as we walked down the aisles, more faces from our high school years emerged, busy working women, pregnant moms and more out of towners, our batchmates who could only make it to the actual show date. Once again, that didn’t matter anymore, seeing them completed our experience. The picture of the present is not as perfect without the many faces from the past.
And yet when I reached the end of the aisle, I still sensed a profound absence... my father, Frank, who passed away three months ago of cancer. He, along with my mother Sonia, was an avid Assumption parent. It crossed my mind to stay home and skip the Velada, because it had been so soon after his death. But knowing my Dad, he would have ordered me to go to the Velada, and so I did. And it is on this note that I end by thanking, on behalf of my classmates and fellow jubilarians, all the parents who have insisted that their daughters attend the Assumption, for their education. Otherwise, none of us would have been able to go through this inspiring experience of the Velada high.