We
are warning you, though, that we cannot be responsible for
any bellyaches, lockjaws, prolonged laughing and the likes
which, we are sure, won’t be caused by what you are
about to read . We also invite
all members of the class to send to us stories of funny moments
they can remember during our high school days for inclusion
in this section. You can e-mail it to me at delfinzafra@sbcglobal.net
or to Rolly Malinis at rmalinis@sbcglobal.net
or, if you are in the Philippines, simply hand it over to
our VP, Santy Morante. It can be in English, Tagalog or Taglish.
It can be typewritten or simply handwritten. And, in case
you choose the latter, we promise to you we will do our very
best to decipher it.
We, the Crusaders, start our school days at 7:30 A.M. with
the two-hour Physics class under Miss Beatriz Sarmiento whom
we affectionately called “Booma”, an elephant
heroine in one of the local komiks. Miss Sarmiento had the
habit of immediately starting to write in very little letters
on the blackboard with her massive back facing the door without
first doing the roll call. This enabled some latecomers to
sneak into the classroom without being noticed by her. I was
late one morning and I was able to get to my seat without
any problem.. But immediately after I sat, I saw Josefino
Antonio tiptoeing towards his seat and I greeted him with
a very loud ‘Good Morning’. Booma turned around
and saw Pinong as he was about to sit, stopped writing and
peered at him over her little reading glasses. Pinong was
also looking at me, biting his lips and almost smiling at
the prank, although it is on him. After the class, Pinong
good naturedly gave me a little punch on the arm saying ‘Putris
ka, lusot na sana ako, ibinisto mo pa’.
There
is another episode in our Physics class involving Pinong and
me, but I swear I did not cause it to happen intentionally.
We were doing an experiment and I, as group leader, was busy
setting up instruments and writing data when I realized we
need the atmospheric pressure and said so to my group mates.
Pinong, always ready to do his share said “ako na, ako
na; saan ba?”. Without looking up from what I was doing,
I pointed towards the other side of the room. Pinong trotted
to where the instrument was, pencil in one hand, paper in
another. He was bent a little bit, trying to get a reading
when he felt some heavy breathing behind the back of his head.
He turned around and found himself looking directly at Booma
who, in her loud quivering voice, asked him “what are
you looking for, Josefino? “.Pinong answered “
ma’am, I am trying to get the atmospheric pressure for
our experiment”. Booma shot back incredulously”you
cannot get the atmospheric pressure there; that is a thermometer!
The barometer is right there by the door”. I looked
at the other members of the group who were shaking their heads.
One was even wagging his forefinger at me saying “ ikaw
ha, napahamak tuloy si Pinong”. Pinong came back to
our group biting his lips and with a look of hurt in his face
that I almost fell to my knees in apologizing to him. What
happened to Pinong could have easily happened to any member
of our group including me; we never needed atmospheric pressure
in all our previous experiments and we got accustomed to taking
the temperature as one of our variables that it had become
an instinct to read the thermometer right away.
I always
take pride in my participations in our play presentations
whether it was on stage or inside the classroom. In our English
class under Miss Mahinhin Roberto, we tried our thespian prowess
by presenting four plays from our textbook, Philippine Prose
and Poetry. We presented each day, for four consecutive days,
El Consejo de los Dioses, Mang Ambo and the Well, Basketball
Game and The Legend of Malakas and Maganda. I had roles in
all four plays but I remember Basketball Game because of the
funny plot; two lovers engaged to be married, played by myself
and Corazon Agapito, got into an argument about a basketball
game where I was backing a team and Cora was rooting for the
other team and ended up breaking the engagement. In all of
our practices, Cora, ever the mahinhin and reserved person
that she is, refused to let me hold her hands while I was
whispering sweet nothings to her. She would hold one end of
her handkerchief and make me hold the other end. When we got
to that scene in our presentation, I suddenly grabbed Cora’s
hands and held them while I was delivering my lines. You could
see the surprise and nervousness that gripped Cora: her round
eyes widened and the color of her face turned pale. But, I
was more surprised because her hands were very cold that I
felt like I was holding a small block of ice in my hands.
Afterwards, we both had a great laugh about it.
I remember
our classmate Reynaldo Agapito, owner of two of the most powerful
arms I have ever seen. We were platoon mates in our PMT and
some members of our group including me would sometimes tease
our platoon leader by aping his commands and making faces
at him till he got mad and ordered us to give him twenty push
ups. While most of us who were out of shape struggled mightily
to make it to twenty, Reynaldo, to my surprise, put his right
arm behind his back and did more push ups than the officer
asked for at a very fast pace and even gleefully said that
anyone who would want to ride on his back is welcome. Everybody,
including our officer, can’t help but smile and shake
their heads at such an amazing display of power.
On
my third year class section A2, I had a classmate named Conrado
Carpio, tall, skinny and very funny. Always smiling and laughing,
this guy doesn’t have a single serious bone in his entire
body, maharot. In our Pilipino class, our teacher, Miss Conchita
Rivero, was about to discuss the poem ‘Kay Kiko’.
This was an old poem written in response to Francisco Balagtas’
‘Kay Selya’. As soon as Miss Rivero read aloud
the title ‘Kay Kiko’, Conrado burst out laughing,
his chinky eyes turning into slits; all his teeth showing.
This was because the way Miss Rivero spoke, it might have
sounded as if she was talking about a part of her anatomy.
Our teacher was so red faced and mad at Conrado as she scolded
him and it took a while before she can compose herself and
resume the class discussion.
I always had a feeling that Gani, now Rev. Isagani Lazaro,
would someday be a preacher by vocation. Why? Because, even
in one of our school plays, he was aspiring to become a priest,
while I, portraying a priest, was trying to dissuade him from
pursuing his dream. I am talking about ‘Bagyo sa Nueva
Luz’, a play by Father Horacio dela Costa,S.J. that
was presented on stage by our Pilipino club, ‘Mga Anak
ni Balagtas’ under Miss Teodora Belza. We spent long
hours after classes for weeks memorizing our lines and perfecting
our deliveries and all those times would be so boring if spent
just for those purposes so we engaged in some horse-plays
to break the monotony. I would be egging Lamberto Doma to
deliver his lines ‘a la Fernando Poe, Jr.’ like….”kahit
na sino, Padre? Kahit na ang isang…gaya ko?” And
we would be laughing and slapping each other at the back.
But the biggest fun would come when I mispronounced the name
of Paquito, played by Gani, like…”naisip mo ba
kailanman iyan Pukito? Naisip mo ba? That would bring up much
laughter that even Edgar Gonzales, one of our directors, would
drop to the floor laughing uncontrollably. The problem was
when we got to the actual stage presentation, it was so hard
for me and Gani to keep straight faces once I was about to
utter those lines. I had to bite my lips several times to
keep myself from even smiling and I am sure Gani did the same
thing.
One of our
memorable play presentations was Penmouth Playhouse Club’s
“Shadows and Solitudes” by the late Senator Claro
M. Recto. Gani played the role of Andres, the philandering
husband of Gabriela, played by Sunny Prodon. The object of
Andres’ misplaced passion was Marina, Gabriela’s
own sister, very aptly played by Teresa Parian. I played Gabriela
and Marina’s uncle, Tiyo Narciso. There was a scene
wherein I confronted Andres about his evil ways which he would
vehemently deny, grabbing the front of my shirt in the process.
In all of our practices, we were wearing collarless white
T-shirts which were our school uniform and Gani would grab
the front of my shirt by the neck and deliver his lines. In
the actual stage play, Gani and I both wore coat and tie.
I was wearing a coat lent to me by Venancio Garcia and a clip
on tie lent to me by Epitacio Mendoza. Now, we know what a
clip on tie is; it was one that is already arranged as a tie
would be and all one need to do is clip it on the front of
his buttoned up collar. When we got to that scene, I was so
surprised and horrified when, instead of grabbing my shirt,
Gani grabbed my tie and pulled at it hard. There is a picture
of that scene in The Bamboo 1965 and if you look closely at
the expression on my face, I was not constipated then or anything;
I was just trying to follow Gani’s pull so my tie would
not end up on his hand. Imagine the uproar and laughter that
could have ensued had the future reverend succeeded in his
evil intention; we could all end up laughing on the stage
and forgetting our lines. |
