Elementary

(my journal entry dated May 8, 2012, a Tuesday)

I’m writing now with Matt Monroe playing in the background. “Softly as I Leave You.” I don’t know what gave Kuya Jing the idea to turn up the volume of the sound system already. Which doesn’t mean it’s not okay. It’s just that he doesn’t usually do so unless I’m already up and about.

I’m a late-riser, see. And even when I’m already awake in my room, I still don’t make it known to everyone, not until after I’ve finished writing the day’s journal entry. As much as possible, I like it quiet when I’m writing. I wonder what gave me away. Now, I’m so distracted as I write this.

Softly as I leave you. Kuya Jing told me years ago that it’s his favorite Matt Monroe song. Except for a few, he hated almost everyone of his teachers back in elementary. One of his favorite teachers taught him this song for their graduation day.

Right now, I’m imagining the song being sung by a children’s choir, and yes, I agree, it does sound wonderful. Perhaps today is senti day for Kuya Jing. Perhaps he had a dream, and he woke up sad or wistful or whatever.

Speaking of teachers, I too had love/hate relationship with them in elementary. Or rather, love or hate or just forgettable—that is, if you can afford to. Young minds don’t forget easily. You remember which name goes with which impression. Like Mrs. Bondoc’s cheeks reminded me of sinigang na baboy. Or Mrs. Tolentino’s eyes were like tausi beans. Or Mrs. Sapnu’s mestiza head with siyete haircut looked like freshly cubed papaya.

There were subjects you took seriously, and there were those you just go through, although on the whole, elementary for me was just that—elementary. I mean, I remember doing projects and home assignments, but studying for exams? No, I don’t. Not at all.

Although it’s remarkable that, unwary of political correctness, teachers then can be real bullies. They could hurt you. They could slap you on certain parts of your body, say, your arm, when they told you, “Arms raised forward!” and you were sloppy about it. Or they could pull your hair when you didn’t do your homework. Depending on how angry you made them. By the tuft or by a small pinch just above your sideburn.

Or if you were the notorious type (one who didn’t let a single day pass without a mischief of any kind), then you were made to kneel on a pile of salt or mongo beans on the floor. And if you were to serve as an example for the entire class’ edification, you did your penance on top of the teacher’s desk.

There was this teacher who was adviser to the lowest section of the 5^th graders. Or was it the 6^th? Anyway, her infamy was legendary. You see, classroom windows in public schools then had wood jalousies.  Now, that teacher was said to have this habit of hurling students out through the classroom windows. And she did it so forcefully, the errant student made it whole and alive outside without any damage whatsoever to the windows. Kinda like David Copperfield-ish. Amazing. Thinking about it now, it’s hilarious. Just the stuff children come up with, spread about, and take seriously.

The teachers you took for granted were those who were inconsistent and who got angry without conviction. Those you took seriously were those who spoke softly but carried a big stick, while those you would rather risk a future of illiterate misery were those who spoke loud—very loud—and carried a big—very big—stick. Mga demonya na nga, pinaglihi pa sa aswang. And parents then thought it was okay for teachers to be like that and do things like that.

I remember one time, Nanay took me with her to the burial of a neighbor [syempre, patay na], and in the jeepney on the way to the cemetery, we sat across one of them hell-spawn teachers, and for the life of me, I couldn’t understand how Nanay could be so brave, even jolly, what with the devil before her. They were even joking with each other.

Back then, I thought I’d never grow up getting over being afraid of her and the others of her kind. But I turned out okay, I guess. I still believe in corporal punishment in schools—the reasonable kind, that is.