When I was introduced to the school system, I thought I was introduced to these things:
- That life is a race (maybe)
- Everything I learned in between bell rings are most important in equipping yourself for life
- You will always be measured
- Deadlines are inescapable
- Endings are inevitable
I remember waking up everyday to AM radio, Paeng Yabut’s voice would fill up the chill air and intro the Rufina Patis (fish sauce) commercial. We lived near enough the railway to hear the first trip of the old train, 6 a.m. This means we should be, at least, halfway ready to go. We should be on our way as the next train whistles in (6:30 a.m.) since the school bell rings at a strict 6:45 a.m. Life is a race, as it is reinforced throughout. That’s part of the reason why the late comers cannot go and join their designated line during the 15 minute flag ceremony program. They had to be counted, listed, and hopefully humiliated not to do it again. It is a disagreeable method in instilling supposed discipline when all you want to do is just draw a line that expresses respect for time.
During that fifteen minutes I look around at the authorities, see how they manage to whip themselves into shape to clock in early, daily. I see some who usually look at late comers or line breakers with contempt like it’s an anomaly that needs to be quickly eradicated. Then there are those who barely can contain a yawn, under which breath mutters regret as they plot their own escape. I was looking for that one person in authority who is just happy to be there and happy to see everyone. Hopefully her well projected energy will rub off everyone else.
By 7 am, we rush off to our rooms to race micro managed races and pile up grades. Don’t be fooled by the systematic line separated by an arms length and paced by small steps, we are rushing. Initially, the rush is about the excitement brought about the prospect of learning something new. Sustaining that is a challenge for the allotted 180 days multiplied by years… To Be Continued
danDAman 