BANANACUE
REPUBLIC
Vol I, No. 12
Nov 24, 2004

 
  
 by Leoncio Olobia

CONTENTS

High School Memoirs

(I am dedicating this article to my batchmates in Leyte National High School, batch 1986 who are spending so many hours organizing for our first grand reunion this December 29, 2004 after 18 years.)

I have been reading the mails of old friends and classmates and I must say they all bring back the good times. One cannot simply forget high school life. It is the ultimate stage of madness: puppy love, independence, group sex for those more adventurous and much more.

I remember my first day when all the nervousness and hysteria kept pounding me while taking the entrance exam with over a thousand other applicants. When I finally got in, I meditated because I was going to embark on a new chapter of my life. Sure enough, I was greeted with teachers who embraced "terrorism" in class like our "Pilipino" subject under Ms. Fejer who enjoyed the Socratic method of teaching with an abundance of sarcasm in the air.

Mrs. Tan, our English teacher looked impeccable and commanding. We had to speak English for the entire time otherwise a fine of 10 cents each time we spoke "Waray" was the penalty. We joined boy scout activities with a camping event as the highlight. Mark reckoned that I didn't know any chores because at that time I was desperately in love with the piano. Well, I tried to help them with the dishes even if it was against my will. Arnel and Romel exchanged some bitter words over territorial issues. The incident seems to be vague now but some might enlighten me with the real story. They made up their friendship after awhile.

Second year was more liberating because we already conquered the first stage. Our English class organized a play for a school competition. It was called "Mirinisa" with Lyra as the lovely princess caught in a heavy duel between Mark and Arnel, and I was the datu. I distinctly remember the endless rehearsals we did during our English class while our teacher, Ms. Lorenzo watched lazily not having to worry about the lesson for the day. It was an admonishing situation for me because I resented being in the play. I had no idea why I was chosen to play the role of the datu when I was literally small and Arnel was overpowering. He should have taken the role instead. Nevertheless, we managed third in the competition against the formidable seniors who seemed to think they ruled the world.

Aside from academics, our social life was shaping with Tinoy as the "bulangkoy" champion. Breaktimes were spent with a lot of gatherings like the unending dictionary competitions, "paraltakay-kun-may-naagi- nga-pagong", cutting-classes just so we could watch cheap pornographic movies at the dilapidated Republic Theater with Joel as the group leader. While some of us were into serious academic excellence, the others just took things easily. Boy Scout activities became intense. Joel, Tinoy, Badz and I had to undergo training which later saved us from the wrath of Suralta.

My third year was even more pronounced as my friends were learning the ways of teenage madness. We were paired with some of our classmates. I happened to be Mark's rival in trying to win Lyra. This started way back when the role-playing started. Dennis was the head of infuriation for those who never really knew him. But there was always warmth and smile beneath those intrigues, ridicules and endless chats. Joel was his second in command.

My little group went out for lunch, where else but at Roda's canteen below Grandstand steps where I was always singled out for not buying anything while using the place4 for my messy, banana-wrapped "balon". We had to utilize some empty classrooms to enjoy our fantastic gourmet of "paksiw" and prito nga isda". On some occasions, adobo and lechon were served after a day's fiesta.

Talking about fiestas, we, too, indulged heavily. V&G was the grandest of them all. The whole Tacloban was deserted because everyone was harassing their friends in the place. I first learned to drink beer in one of these occasions. Oh, no. It was during our Christmas party when I had my first "San Miguel". Joel was already an expert drunk then. Because I was a beginner, puking was inevitable.

Anyway, about the fiesta, Sharon was the host for the entire III-Gold class because Arnel never invited us. He became useful only during an assignment in Geometry when we all copied his answers and if I remember right, Vanessa, our class valedictorian, also committed the crime. But we didn't care. There was lavish preparation. There was no time to back out as the rush of hungry goers congested the streets of Tacloban. Everyone had to partake in the grand event.
Our first taste of Prom was realized in the scourging heat of the sun during a 1:00 PM party at the People"s Center. It was unmatched, indeed. There was a grand display of formal attire as opposed to the usual red-white combination for the girls and white shirts for the guys in our day-to-day uniform.

The mood was heightened when everyone danced to the tune of "Boys Do Fall In Love" even if the demonic heat of the afternoon air was unbearable. Bella and Joel were experts in the latest dance steps so we followed their way. I was not altogether excited when Lyra, who was my teenage crush, didn't show up. She never explained why.

Senior level was the ultimate experience. Joel was smoking five cigarettes already. The pressure of academics was mounting. NCEE was our main goal. As such, midnight lamps were burned, learning more vocabularies or mastering quadratic equations for the exam. We also had to prepare for the UPCAT exams for those who wanted to live an abnormal life. But these didn't bother our mundane existence.

My genius classmates were delegates in national conventions, winners in various quiz shows while the rest of us continued to be real, normal people. Emelyn was the master of the English language. She won against Lyra but it didn't matter. We were still cutting classes. When the pressure of NCEE was over, I went back to my lazy lifestyle even if Mr. Ochon's Physics were giving me headaches. No way. I didn't dwell on his mad science so it reflected in my mediocre grade.

While a bunch of us were officers in the CAT, my little friends were exempted because we too, were officers in the Boy Scout organization. Mark showed his expertise in traffic when two automobiles collided that's why he had to enroll in the dreaded CAT after we kicked him out. 
Tibyo was the lone soldier who had no ranks in the army. Poor guy he had to be a receptacle of his friends' might.

Our Senior Prom had to be outstanding. We were embracing a New Wave culture so it had to be flamboyant and revolutionary. Indeed we were glorified with our gelled hairstyle and glamorous looks. Some of our batch mates maintained their low-profile, conservative air, on the other hand, but it was okey.

At this time, drinking was a habit. It showed that we were grown-ups already even if we still acted as kids in so many ways. Senior's day was the last occasion before our final bow during our graduation.

Yes. These things happened. So many have not been mentioned yet they are all in our hearts and mind. Let us not lock them up forever. Let us once again be those young, innocent faces who conquered that Young Field edifice. We can never go back but certainly our grand reunion can help us be together again.

It doesn't matter if you are an achieved person or not. Don't let this be a hindrance to your decision whether to come or not. Nobody has achieved anything yet, unless you have achieved enlightenment and perhaps you can unlearn everything. Leila said that we are still young to fulfill our dreams. We will be there to laugh once again. To live those moments of agony and joy during those four years of adventure.

For those who are far and cannot come, let this Internet global community be our place to hear each other. You might not realize it by now but when it is over, regret will always sadden you. And for those who are forever lost in the pages of time, we offer this event to them. Cleofe, for one.

Posted 11/23/04.  Send your comment to bananacue_republic@yahoo.com

"Let us not lock them up forever. Let us once again be those young, innocent faces who conquered that Young Field edifice. We can never go back but certainly our grand reunion can help us be together again."