The summer of 1963

If you were born in 1945, 1946, or 1947, you would have graduated from high school in 1963.  Year 2013 will have you celebrating 50 years out of high school.  I will, too!  We will raise a toast to the memories we had set aside that have now turned lustrous and radiant.
Someone said that by turning back the clock, some old insecurities may resurrect, that revisiting the past may open a chance to disprove negative prophecies or earn the acceptance and respect that might have been denied before.  But would it still matter?  
Look at how we have expanded our circle of friends, beyond our high school walls.  They are our contemporaries who went through the same experience, perhaps in various degrees and in a different framework.  What is certain is that the common threads of “youth-and-innocence-under-fire” have become all too familiar, too funny, and too embarrassing to forget.     

For Marfina Teodoro:  “The sun was peeping through the leaves of the tall acacia trees that surrounded our school.  A gentle breeze was blowing on my face and that made me smile.  Suddenly, the ‘mistress of class’ approached me with arms akimbo. ‘Why are you smiling?’ she demanded.  This jolted me out of my serene state.  â€˜I don’t see anything here to warrant a smile!’ she screamed.

“I wrestled to hide the scorn that I felt.  ‘Goodness!  There are many things to smile about:  True friends, nature’s beauty, and most of all, God’s blessings!’  Alas, in the ’60s, we were not allowed to speak our mind.”

Dolly Nolan:  “I transferred to a new school and that filled me with dread, not knowing anyone and having to adjust to a different learning method. That soon changed and I joined a gang called the M7 after the western flick Magnificent Seven.  My high school mates have become my BFFs from that time on.”     

Bienvenido “Pet” Bautista:  “I was an alalay (assistant) of the Student Council, assigned to stand in the corridor, making sure all male students wore the mandatory necktie. One toughie resented it.  He pulled me aside and punched me in the stomach that made me double over in pain. I quit immediately.    

“High School was when we had serious crushes, discovered the telephone, had butterflies in the stomach while dialing the five-digit number of our dream girl.  I was worried sick should her dad lift the phone, worse, if the older sister because she refused to hand the phone over to my ‘Venus in bobbie sox’.”

What about the scourge of a pesky, nosy party line?

Rosalinda Malinao:  “In Spanish class, we wrote on the blackboard, “Diptongo. Triptongo. Mrs. L es un tsonggo.” Mrs. L was reduced to tears.  She demanded that the class point a finger at the culprit(s).  When no one owned to the crime, she left the room and returned with the school principal in tow.  We gasped in horror, but not even the stark presence of the school principal forced our class to squeal.  We kept this well-guarded secret for 50 years.”

Lourdes Gatmaitan:  “What was it that made the halo-halo in Little Quiapo undeniably cool and refreshing? Even the hopia and Coke served in the cafeteria made us happy. The girls simply said, ‘Because we ate together.’ 

“Were there petty arguments and gargantuan obstacles of teenage life in high school? Did we experience calamities of adolescence? I don’t remember any. There was no time for such frippery. We looked forward to college and dreamt tentative dreams of meeting our young gods and carving our niche in the world. March 19, 1963, marked the end of high school and the beginning of unparalleled adventure.”     

Meldy Gabriel:  “I was suspended by the nuns for filling up a slum book.  At that time, it was considered scandalous to openly share our thoughts and ideas.  When was your first kiss?  Where did you go on your first date? were some of the questions that stunned the nuns.  Thinking about it now makes me laugh.  How naive and harmless we were in the ’60s! In Tagalog, “e-engot-engot kasi.”

Fe Reyes:  “Not worth forgetting was almost flunking Home Economics (which girl flunks HE?). Our project was a pair of pajamas, the main sewing of which we were allowed to do from home.  (Read: Yaya Rosita to the rescue.)  But on submission day, we were to put the finishing touches right in the classroom.  The panic on my face was no match to the one on Mrs. Matias’ face as she recoiled in terror when she saw me attempting to attach the collar onto the armhole of my pj top.  Also, during jam sessions, girls sat with reserve along a wall of the dance floor while the guys across the room assessed us.  They would then approach the girl of their liking, for a dance. Oh, the torment of not knowing if the approaching guy was coming for you, or the girl next to you.  To quell tension, girls would pretend to be looking at their watch or studying the folds on their abanico (fan).”

And from my list of quotable quotes:

•  “I don’t want to brag or make anyone jealous, but I can still fit into the earrings I wore in high school.”

•  “It is one of the blessings of old friends that you can afford to be stupid with them.” (Ralph Waldo Emerson) 


• “Someday we’ll look back on this, laugh nervously, and change the subject.”

• â€œThere is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered.” (Nelson Mandela)

•  “True terror is to wake up one morning and discover that your high school class is running the country.” (Kurt Vonnegut)

The College of the Holy Spirit will welcome its alumni, with spirits ablaze, on February 2/3; UST High will shimmer and gleam on February 17/18; Maryknoll will pop the cork in September, and Assumption Convent will welcome the “Old Girls” on October 20.

On these nights, watch the stars dance magically across the sky.  The moon will ask, “How do you like our show?”     

Unrivalled, like genuine gold.