Twenty five years ago, we left the confines of our alma mater: Xavier University High School Ateneo de Cagayan. Twenty five years after, we had our Silver Jubilee on November 30, 2007. In between those years, which for some are already a lifetime, there have been marked changes: bulging bellies, receding hairlines, children (still for a few, grandchildren), careers, failures and successes. Despite distance and changes, we have the same collective memories of our high school days, the carefree memories of our youth in the once all boys school run by the Jesuits.
As individuals, we were differentiated by our genes; but as a batch, we identify to common memories which we cherish in our lifetimes. Reunions are borne of reminiscences.
Our school then was located near a cemetery. When we quarreled, fist fights in the cemetery were arranged after class hours. There was one fight of two karate kids and they fought until they were black and blue, but when they got exhausted, they just slumped in the ground then smiled at each other. In a school exclusively for boys, we were treated to a regular fare of fistfights. We were careful not to fight within the school premises otherwise our prefect of discipline would punish us to carry wooden guns and walk around a tree until we got tired. Once, there were two students caught fighting, and the prefect of discipline, the strict Capt. De la Cruz , gave them gloves and he let the two boxed each other until they dropped in the ground, gasping for air.
Between the ages of 13 and 16, the testosterone levels are uncontrollable. We had few lady teachers who naturally were the objects of our desires, day dreams, and fantasies. The sexiest (at least for me) of them all was Ms. Tuason. When she entered the classrooms, the ahs and the ows could be heard. There was Ms. Moncay whose cleavage never failed to reveal the abundance of the source. The students surrounded her and pretended to ask questions, but the eyes were ogling the twin peaks. There was our speech teacher, who was not so young but whose clarity in pronunciation and eloquence would drive us into fantasies.
We were lucky to have teachers whose dedication in their profession were matched by their expertise in their respective field. The math wizard, Mr. Yeban, guided us into knowing the unknowns X and Y, and making math seemed easy. Later in college, we lorded over the others as we, with brimming confidence, stood up in class to illustrate the solutions to complex problems, and then wrote QED or quad errat demonstrandum, with a flourish. There was this physics teacher who demonstrated the laws of nature by spitting saliva in jet-like speed at an unusually longer distance, then proceeded to discourse on why Einstein was wrong and he was right. Of course, the Jesuit schools are always known for eloquence in the written and spoken English.
In a stage of youth and therefore experiment, things were not all rosy. There were batch mates who tried marijuana, then synthetic drug, and did not kick the addiction even at the older age when the vice appears to be anachronistic. It is said that where there is affluence there is vice. Admittedly, the well-off members of the community sent their sons to our school. Some of the spoiled brats had either drug or alcohol for vices or both.
After all those years, many have succeeded. We have three light colonels who graduated from the finest military academy, three Jesuit priests, several doctors, seven lawyers, engineers, and successful businessmen. But while others tell of their colorful lives, several too were not able to attend the reunion due to poverty or tales of hardship which they better suffer in solitude.
We are living away from each other, even as far as continents apart. But whenever our lives crossed, we identify to common memories, and to the brand of Jesuit education that has molded us into what we are to the core the blue bloodied ateneans.
Twenty five years ago, we left the confines of our alma mater: Xavier University High School Ateneo de Cagayan. Twenty five years after, we had our Silver Jubilee on November 30, 2007. In between those years, which for some are already a lifetime, there have been marked changes: bulging bellies, receding hairlines, children (still for a few, grandchildren), careers, failures and successes. Despite distance and changes, we have the same collective memories of our high school days, the carefree memories of our youth in the once all boys school run by the Jesuits.
As individuals, we were differentiated by our genes; but as a batch, we identify to common memories which we cherish in our lifetimes. Reunions are borne of reminiscences.
Our school then was located near a cemetery. When we quarreled, fist fights in the cemetery were arranged after class hours. There was one fight of two karate kids and they fought until they were black and blue, but when they got exhausted, they just slumped in the ground then smiled at each other. In a school exclusively for boys, we were treated to a regular fare of fistfights. We were careful not to fight within the school premises otherwise our prefect of discipline would punish us to carry wooden guns and walk around a tree until we got tired. Once, there were two students caught fighting, and the prefect of discipline, the strict Capt. De la Cruz , gave them gloves and he let the two boxed each other until they dropped in the ground, gasping for air.
Between the ages of 13 and 16, the testosterone levels are uncontrollable. We had few lady teachers who naturally were the objects of our desires, day dreams, and fantasies. The sexiest (at least for me) of them all was Ms. Tuason. When she entered the classrooms, the ahs and the ows could be heard. There was Ms. Moncay whose cleavage never failed to reveal the abundance of the source. The students surrounded her and pretended to ask questions, but the eyes were ogling the twin peaks. There was our speech teacher, who was not so young but whose clarity in pronunciation and eloquence would drive us into fantasies.
We were lucky to have teachers whose dedication in their profession were matched by their expertise in their respective field. The math wizard, Mr. Yeban, guided us into knowing the unknowns X and Y, and making math seemed easy. Later in college, we lorded over the others as we, with brimming confidence, stood up in class to illustrate the solutions to complex problems, and then wrote QED or quad errat demonstrandum, with a flourish. There was this physics teacher who demonstrated the laws of nature by spitting saliva in jet-like speed at an unusually longer distance, then proceeded to discourse on why Einstein was wrong and he was right. Of course, the Jesuit schools are always known for eloquence in the written and spoken English.
In a stage of youth and therefore experiment, things were not all rosy. There were batch mates who tried marijuana, then synthetic drug, and did not kick the addiction even at the older age when the vice appears to be anachronistic. It is said that where there is affluence there is vice. Admittedly, the well-off members of the community sent their sons to our school. Some of the spoiled brats had either drug or alcohol for vices or both.
After all those years, many have succeeded. We have three light colonels who graduated from the finest military academy, three Jesuit priests, several doctors, seven lawyers, engineers, and successful businessmen. But while others tell of their colorful lives, several too were not able to attend the reunion due to poverty or tales of hardship which they better suffer in solitude.
We are living away from each other, even as far as continents apart. But whenever our lives crossed, we identify to common memories, and to the brand of Jesuit education that has molded us into what we are to the core - the blue bloodied ateneans.
