A WEEKEND TO REMEMBER

 
    On January 12-13, 2008 the CGEAHS 1976 Batch had its 1^st reunion after 32 years.  In more ways than one, it was more than a reunion, indeed it was a Homecoming for the over a hundred batchmates and eight teachers who attended . . . . and WOW did we have a weekend to remember!

    For many months I had been eagerly awaiting for this special occasion wondering then what happened to my old classmates and teachers too.  As the reunion drew closer I was filled with excitement, though at first there was a hint of trepidation for I was not one of the more popular girls in high school and I wasn’t exactly sure how the two days would eventuate. Anyway, I managed to get rid of the latter and started a countdown, until finally the reunion dates came. 

    That morning of the Saturday I woke up early and, though hesitant that she could still be in deep sleep due to fatigue from an eight hour flight from Sydney, called Carla Geneta who was next door to me at the Holiday Inn where we were billeted. To my surprise, she answered me straight away and said she was up and about since the crack of dawn.  We agreed to meet in the hotel bistro to have a quick breakfast and to call Eric Nery about our batch t-shirts which we would wear on that first day.  The taxi arranged by the Hotel Concierge picked us up at exactly 8:00 am.  As the cab made its way along EDSA, I recognized the all too familiar sights and sounds of Manila - its hustle and bustle, and of course the unmistakable look and smell of pollution . . . yes, I am HOME.

    When I saw the two Camps, Crame & Aguinaldo, I thought about Edwin Erni, Ramon de Guzman and Noel Felicia, and wondered how many of the ’76 boys and girls chose to be in the military. My reverie continued as we passed this long and busy stretch of road – those occasional lazy afternoon walks with Mac Corpus, Winnie Jugao and Cherrie Oldan  though I was not a certified ‘taga baryo’; the raucous laughter emanating from another ‘baryo’ group consisting of Belinda Viernes, Jo de la Torre and Vic Manlongat; the visits to Eden Ugay’s house; Amethyst boys like Rodrigo and Raul who I guessed live on the Crame side of EDSA. I was jolted out of my dreamy state when the taxi driver made a sharp turn towards Santolan Road, saying that we had to go the long way because of a heavy traffic on the fastest route to the St. Ignatius Chapel where the Reunion Mass will be held in less than an hour. 

    As I read the street signs 10^th Ave, 11^th . . . . 13^th . . . 14^th Ave . . . in an instant, I was in a trance again with images of Chuchi Albano, Arnelia Estrada, Rudy Esteban, Beth Saspa, John Edra, Delia Navarro, George Raquidan, Nathaniel Felix and Jo Viray.  That the Training Officer of the CAT Girls’ Model Platoon in 3^rd year reside at 13^th Ave even crossed my mind.  With 15^th Ave as my demarcation, I knew that Marlene Libatique, Milanel Barreto, Cynthia Sacay, Alma Encarnacion, Flor Sanchez, Editha Viernes, Luis Lising and Mary Jane Cruz live up the road from 15^th, and that on to the Libis area, one could find Estelita Cua and Marilyn Arzadon.

    After what seemed to be an unending ride, I finally saw Camp Aguinaldo’s imposing Main Gate.  The camp’s Grandstand still stands as I remember it, flooding my memory with the CAT drills, our high school graduation, and the military parades where we waved miniature Phil. flags for visiting dignitaries as PMA cadets dressed in their snappy gear displayed their marching skills.

    My travelling companion put on a dash of lipstick and took one last look on her compact powder mirror, and muttered that she could not contain her excitement and is filled with so much anticipation of seeing everyone again.  Although we were running late, the driver amused us with stories on local showbiz, so we decided to pay him a hundred more for the service.  We got out of the car and smoothed our casual attire before heading towards the church where by now the Mass had already started.  Don Directo was still at the door and seemed to be making last minute adjustments to his guitar which made me wonder if he was part of the choir that morning.  As we scanned the room, we made our way towards the first pew and sat beside Gigi Ycasiano who, I noticed, was wearing a pair of red earrings and a magnetic Amethyst necklace cum bracelet exactly the same as the one Winnie sent for me from Jakarta.  I instantly recognised Leza Acorda and Nelmida Ferrer who were seated directly behind us. For a moment I hoped for a glimpse of Arlene Fondevilla and Erlinda Narvaez. 

    As the young priest continued with his Homily, he mentioned the names of those who did not live to see the batch’s 1^st reunion.  Immediately, the church fell silent one could hear a pin drop.  When the choir sang Our Father, Tanging Yaman and The Prayer, everyone was overwhelmed with emotion.  Was it due to the feeling of longing or was it because by now we already are masters of the subject called Life and the lessons that come with it?  Then came the Offertory. Three couples, Jojo & Beng, Manolo & Kristen, Jesus & Remecitas - sweethearts then and now - lined up and slowly walked to the altar where the priest collected their offerings.  I couldn’t help but be happy, at the same time amazed, that in this day and age when relationships are taken for granted and the statistics on separations and divorces is higher than ever, their marriages remain intact and appear to be as solid as ever.  In a fleeting moment I wondered, how many of us ended up together and became partners for life?  The time for Communion became a roll call for me, checking my imaginary attendance sheet each time I recognised a familiar face. Finally, the priest gave his blessing and said some congratulatory words.

    The church was again bustling with joy, as if we were transformed into young and innocent teenaged boys and girls once more. The soft organ music became a background for excited chatter and laughter.  In came Gil Pecson with his digital camera and other electronic gadgets urging everyone to converge at the altar for a series of group shots.  With Anna Ramos and Noel Calpito reminding us that the second part of the 1^st big day was about to begin, we all proceeded to our Alma Mater amidst a never ending session of photos, handshakes and hugs.

    As I entered the main gate of the CGEAHS campus, I noticed how much the classrooms and buildings have changed.  Even the stage and the ground where countless flag ceremonies were held, look different now.  But in my mind, the physical look of the school remained frozen - the white canteen still stands close to where the side entrance is; the Religion classroom under a big shady tree, the tiny ‘The Alert’ office at the back of the Library.  Indeed some things just never change with time.  And people too - the Big Four (Cristy Panganiban, Jo Lachica, Nanette Lacerna & Vilma Hinanay) are still inseparable, sticking with each other practically the whole time of the reunion; Mr Copiaco, though frail and aged, still has the aura of a military and decent man; Malou Billedo’s quiet and reserve; Imelda Manikad’s singing voice; the Garnet boys’ pranks and easy-going manner; Louie San Juan’s charm; Divina Pagdagdagan is never without Rose Rigonan on her side; the Hernando’s Boys winning ways with girls; Georgina Bori’s bubbly personality; Margie Layaoen’s self-effacing manner; aliases still invariably used, like Hakone/Hapon referring to Jose Sto. Domingo.

    I went into the school’s Social Hall where the afternoon’s activities were to be held. I realised that the room overflowed with people in different shapes and sizes - some heavier some not, some appear to have more wrinkles, grey hair and eyebags while some seemed to be beneficiaries of the Fountain of Youth.  But these didn’t matter, in fact, each newcomer was greeted with enthusiastic hellos and warm welcome.  Stories of ‘remember when’ abound and memories of the days when life was a lot simpler were shared.  It was as if our personal account of what happened when we left school had to be crammed in such short a time. 

    In the corner of the room stood a table laden with gift-wrapped boxes while the 70's music drifted through the air.  Llane Agupitan, Jojo Consuelo, Aboy Argana and Jales Lapatha were busy coordinating the parlour games making sure that everything went on as planned.  With each game came thunderous cheers and screams of glee. Judith Guinto, Honorio Pabilan and Marlon Bartolome were willing participants  as well as Emily Peralta whose groove  enticed everyone to dance.  George and teammates were beaming when they collected their prizes for a job well done.  Mel Geminiano brought the house down with his ‘Papaya’ while Lorna Cecilia and Mon Ochotorena’s tandem was a revelation. Mrs Duller, Dunca and Galindo looked happy as spectators and so was Elvis Dichoso who came with sister  Beverly.  As in the morning, group photos were taken and contact numbers were exchanged, clear manifestations of the desire to reconnect and to capture these special moments of being together.  As the afternoon drew to a close, the batchmates went home somewhat tired but nevertheless in high spirit and excited of what the next day would bring.

    I woke up early the following morning but lingered in bed for about an hour recapping what transpired a day ago.  A couple of hours before midday I got dressed for lunch Carla and I had booked earlier for 13 Amethyst classmates. She was already at the hotel lobby browsing through the photos she took with her mobile phone last night. I teased her about the one taken of her with dear friends Vic and Jo, with Joel, Vhot and Bong. Blushing and momentarily into an empty space, perhaps due to a rush of memories of what was and what could have been, she dismissed me laughingly, saying that we had to go if we want to make it to Greenhills on time. 

    Running short of time because of the unexpectedly long lunch, the group proceeded to the PNP Multi-Purpose Hall in Camp Crame.  When we got there, a handful of batchmates had arrived. Looking around the venue, I was impressed by the amount of preparation that went into making this a special night - from the tables and chairs to the catered food.  Even Rolando Emperador, Kidden Junio, Larry Orias, Julita Raiz and Beth Domo were still making changes to the stage decoration, seemingly bent on making the Hall just perfect.

    A buffet dinner was served with lechon and other local delicacies.  Boy,  the food never tasted that good!  Halfway through 7pm, Twinkle Valdez climbed up the stage to emcee the program with Mel ably assisting her.   Jessie, clearly pleased with the realization of what he, Gil, Farley and a few others conceptualised as early as 2006, delivered the Opening Remarks.  Mr Copiaco provided a short but very inspiring message.  His speech was sprinkled with funny anecdotes as a high school teacher. How we love this man! Listening to him, I silently prayed that he’d live longer to see us in our next gathering, for I surmised that he could well be in his mid 80's by now.       

    Then came one of the highlights of the night’s affair. Attendees were called to the stage by class in acknowledgment of their support and by simply  being there.  It was like a class picture taking in high school again, the only difference was we were not in uniform and many were in absentia. Section Pearl recorded the most attendance and for this deserved the standing ovation accorded them.   

    There were vocal renditions much to the delight of the audience, especially the ‘Rowena’ song with its intriguing lyrics.  Then the  70's disco and slow music was played in quick succession which brought  many to the dance floor.   Edgar Lapastora and Eric Cubillo showed their dancing skills while a number of brave souls couldn’t care much if their bodies were in rhythmic beat with the music.  More photos were taken, finding ourselves taking turns to pose with teachers Duller, Ecija, Leva and Panaguiton. 

    I was, by now, counting every minute before we go our separate ways again, subconsciously glancing at my watch from time to time. Ah, I wouldn’t want the night to end . . .                

    Then gradually the crowd thinned, our beloved teachers gone and about twenty of us remained as if unwilling to end the day. With nowhere to go, we trooped to the nearby Starbucks for a nightcap courtesy by The Colonel. I ordered a straight black wanting to keep me in a perfectly conscious state to record every piece of the conversation.  While most of us continued in our jovial mood, I noticed that The Col was unusually subdued. Tired maybe? Or more like reflective?

    In the early hours of Monday, Carla and I reluctantly hailed a cab back to the hotel.  Not a word was exchanged between us, the only sound audible was an instrumental jazzy tune coming from the car’s FM radio station.  For what seemed like a jet ride, we were back in the Inn and I was in bed ready to give my body a much needed rest after the long hectic day. I closed my eyes but the sleep refused to come just yet . . . my mind was like a video recorder replaying vivid images of the last two days. Then assessing the significance of the two-day event, I realized that the reunion was not just a coming together, it was more. For one, I was able to reconnect with long lost friends, but more importantly, I have gained new ones.  It became an outlet for both tapped and untapped talents and fortes.  Third, it proved that nothing is impossible if people put their hearts and minds into something.  Fourth, it was an embodiment of a strong sense of community and kinship. And last, but not least, it validated the fact, that there really is NO PLACE LIKE HOME.  Like a computer that could not accommodate my zillion of thoughts anymore, my mind crashed and so I surrendered to a fitful sleep.

    And then . . .