Most often I call my classmates Manong or Manang, or Iyay for obvious reasons. Now I call them the Psst! Group. Psst! is not an acronym for a deadly group of suicide bombers (similar to the TBS 13 or True Brown Style 13, a fraternity of youngsters in Iloilo who, as part of their initiation, are allegedly killing taxi drivers after taking their cash collections), nor a pseudo society of souls who are fond of looking back to their past because the only future they can look forward to is their bleak retirement. I don't even refer to the popular meaning of Psst as Practice Safe Sex Today. Many of my classmates regard sex as a verb in the past tense. Never associated with Today. Period. If you get my drift.
But going back to Psst!
Some members of the Psst! Group. Taken after the last rites for the late wife of Ernie C. at Forest Lake Memorial Park, Manduriao, Iloilo City, Nov 27, 2010.
I call this group Psst! because when they hear somebody say Psst! they will automatically turn their heads to the source of the sound. And even if the first time, the second time and the nth time they discover that the Psst! is intended for somebody else, yet the next time they hear another 'Psst!' they will still turn their heads towards the sound, unmindful of their previous experience. Parang di na natuto. Haven't they heard about the boy who cried 'Wolf!'?
Will somebody lecture this group about Classical Conditioning or the theories of Pavlov and Skinner? Over a can of maram-an?
Pero, with all the shortcomings, I still look forward to meeting my classmates and the banters that I share with them. Daw nami gid man mag-estorya kang mga nagreligad. Because… come on, can I talk about the stock market with these people? So we talked about our past.
The few times that my classmates would meet, we really make the occasion special. Even if we just huddle for a few minutes with not even a plate of peanuts or butong pakwan in sight. We talk of the days we were classmates in high school, our antics and ambitions then, and our lives now as bread winners, some as doting lolos and lolas, and a few as still coy virgins who remained untouched (kuno) and unmarried in their menopausal years.
Frankly, I sometimes am embarrassed to call my classmates ‘Klasmeyts’ especially in front of my kids. Because - I have to be tactless – they just looked so old as in mal-am gid. Of course, they are still not legally senior citizens. But when left on their own, they would chatter the whole day about their apos, their arthritis and other ailments, the pang-tuition of their college-age children and other financial woes, or the witches or aswangs who happened to be their in-laws. Will somebody tell these people to have a life? Come on. You talk of these topics with a maram-an on hand. And you share buyo, bunga, and other sangkap with the mal-am you are talking with. Try to eavesdrop on the yuppies. Are these the topics they are talking about?
Well, in one of our talks, they mentioned some familiar names.
We had some klasmeyts in high school, according to them, who didn’t allow anyone to copy their answers during exams. Mga dalok gid. They covered their answers as if these were for their eyes only. They folded the top portion of their answer sheets over the items they were answering and they stooped low over their papers so nobody would see what they were writing. As if they were really sure that their answers were right. Their answers were like their panties – they had to pull their skirts down so nobody could have an idea of the color, or if they even wore panties. But look where these dalok nga mga klasmeyts are now. Daw wala man asenso sa pangabuhi. They are not as successful professionally as those merely copying answers during exams. Agto ka sa balay nanda, baw grabe agwanta mo nga para indi ka mangihi. Kay hadlok kaw mag-agto sa anda CR. Basi indi lang toko sa dingding ang makita mo. Mayad pa mangihi sa baid kudal.
And this klasmeyt nga seaman – kapitan sa barko. He was so embarrassed when his son saw his board exam rating. His rating was gakabit nga daw wasay. But he regained his composure. He told his son, ‘Look at your mother. Grabe kataas ang board exam niya. But her 1-year salary is much less than my 1-month salary.’
And that klasmeyt who, when everybody was asked by the school nurse to bring individual stool specimen to school for laboratory analysis, he brought a big Nescafe bottle filled to the brim with his stool. And he was proud to show his loot before the class. Our teacher shrieked and ran fast out of the classroom as if she saw a scary monster.
And that klasmeyt who was so dumb in Math she only memorized the multiplication table for 1's. 1 x 1 = 1. 1 x 2 = 2. 1 x 3 = 3. And so on. Tapos na ang klase di pa nya mamemorize ang 2's.
And that teacher who was so motherly outside, but a terror inside the classroom. Kapila niya ginbunggo sa blackboard ang ulo ni dumb klasmeyt in Math. This teacher's behavior may lead to dismissal and a criminal case now. But during our time, teachers could be so despotic and physically cruel.
At times, the topic became personal. The target of the ribbing is usually the klasmeyt na laon or spinster. Why are there spinsters? Nobody courted them? Males statistically fewer than females? And the spinster answered back, by choice naman daw ang kanyang pagiging laon. Meaning, ginusto nya. Talaga? Inspite of the pocket books with lots of pasaring sa mga pangyayari sa kama? Inspite of the boys who talk dirty na dapat lang pakuluan ang mga bunganga? Inspite of the TV shows na PG pero standard ang torrid kissing scenes ni bidang lalaki and a retinue of female characters in different stages of undress?
Then the question: 'Ti, waay gid ti guwapo ikaw nga nakita?'
And the answer: 'Ay raku nga guwapo eh. Pero ang gusto nanda indi ti guwapa, kundi guwapo man.'
I remembered our spinster neighbor. She was beautiful, fair, kutis porselana. She was my bordmeyt when I was in college. She was at that time working as a salesgirl. Long after I was already working, I heard that she died of breast cancer. But before that, she usually passes in front of our house and took notice of my nieces. Many times, while playing with my nieces, she would just cry so loud, complaining that she had no children of her own to take care of her as she was already diagnosed with cancer. When reminded that she had many nephews and nieces, she would complain that the kids were only good to her if she had money. Possibly, if she could only turn back the hands of time, she would have asked any tambay, sikad driver, or kargador to impregnate her just so she would have a biological child to accompany her during her cancer years. Or nagpangamang siya kang ana mga bordmeyt para lang magbusong. But she was so suplada and picky when she was still young.
And the banters and recollections continue. Daw kang san-o lang. Psst! Ti, may sugpon o dugang kamo?
Saturday, November 27, 2010
The Psst! Group
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
