CLASS '89 HIGH SCHOOL REUNION

WE were one in singing “Farewell” a ballad (a favorite graduation song during our time) by Bagets star Raymond Lauchengco, and befittingly, we said goodbye to our beloved high school, our teachers, BFFs, and the rest of our schoolmates.

For the Class of '89 of Narvacan National Central High School, it was the end of our young lives filled with emotions and excitements, our seatmates, groupmates, crushes, the JS proms, extra-curricular activities, and the music we played during school programs. The friendships that officially began four years earlier marked its end, and times ahead of us would test our commitment to stay in touch after graduation.

Right after high school we went separate ways. While most of our classmates in Acacia section trooped to Manila or Baguio for college, I stayed in Ilocos with Romano Peralta, Gilda Damayo, Mayrene Pintado, Joan Cauton, Jerry Cabanit and Carolina Filarca; we enrolled and finished college at the University of Northern Philippines in Vigan.

SUMMER CINQUAINS

i crossed 

the valley bridge;

found and lost her again,

and left the summers of my heart

behind.

that was

a bright full day;

saw her, gone forever,

and threw my own sweet monsoon dreams

away.

the next bridge...

some other place,

other space, how and where?

i'll just cross the next one when i--

get there.

THE resort in Gozaga town in Cagayan is aptly called STR or Sirok ti Rangtay (Under the Bridge). You have to pass under the bridge to reach the bank where a picnic area and a newly built hotel-type rooms for overnight visitors are found.  

MY PEN PAL

“PEN PALS“ maybe a strange term for the younger generations who have been living almost day to day with instant messaging, chat rooms, and social networking sites. To them, pen pals seem to come from a by-gone age. What do you need a pen for when you can reach your friends, old, new or potential friends, by just a click of the mouse?

As the term suggests, pen pals are two people, usually from different places, originally strangers, who regularly exchange friendly letters, mostly handwritten, and pictures with corny dedications at the back. The relationship would reach a major turning point when one would eventually travel across the distance to finally meet the other. They may fall for each other, that is, when physical attraction overpowers the emotional attraction they may have intimated on scented stationery. Or like with any friendship in life, they remain pen pals for only a short time. They would get to the point in their lives where they have too many things to take care of.

Today, however, there is an Internet version of the same thing. It still has its original meaning of remote friends in different parts of the world who write to each other through e-mails or private messages on social networking sites. The “pen” now means the electronically written communication. There are also pen pal sites for many single males or females to meet their “pals” online and later set up dates for themselves.

SOME MEMORABLE APO SONGS

THE APO Hiking Society will always be one of my favorite Filipino artists.

I grew up listening to their pop hits. Their simple yet catching melodies were laden with romantic, and at times, funny lyrics—all distinctly Filipino in mood and outlook. I admire their chemistry, their friendship that spans more than three decades, their advocacy in promoting Original Pilipino Music (OPM), and their involvement in socio-political issues, with the song “American Junk,” and “Handog ng Pilipino sa Mundo ” among others.

I have lots of favorite APO songs, but there are some that dwell in my memory box, because they form part of the soundtracks of my college days, particularly my four-year stay in a boarding house in Vigan more than a decade ago. And I have no one to blame for this but this APO-crazy co-tenant of mine, a scrawny engineering student, who loved to listen to his compilation of APO songs on his cassette player for almost every day in a span two or three semesters. Having owned the only cassette player with a booming speaker, he had the monopoly of sounds in the house.

The guy also played an unknown Leo Valdez’s album, a slow rock compilation, and some New Wave songs, but the APO songs stood out because he would play them with gusto when he was in a good mood. No one would raise hell over this one because the folksy APO music was rather the best alternative or a fitting middle ground between an overly sentimental Pinoy ballads (it was the era of April Boys and some copycats) and a barrage of slow rocks, punky songs or crossovers that dominated FM channels during that time.

The most memorable song for me, or perhaps, for most of my boardmates is “Pag-ibig.” There is a line in the song that some naughty boys (inspired, I’m sure, by a daily dose of APO songs) would love to use in teasing every female boarder who broke up with a bf: Hindi mo malimutan kung kailan mo natikman ang una mong halik, yakap na napakahigpit. And there were lots of break-ups during my stay there, and lots of teasing and warbling of the song in off-tune keys.

Next on the playlist is “Kaibigan” which has lyrics that the boys would use in their awkward attempt to comfort every guy who was spurned by a girl: Kaibigan tila yata matamlay ang iyong pakiramdam, at ang ulo mo sa kaiisip ay tila naguguluhan... They would use this also to accost those who sulk in a corner for varied reasons—a failing mark, a cancelled date, a delayed allowance, a quarrel with some rowdy boys in the house—either to offer some unsolicited advice or just to meddle in their affairs. And, there were lots of sulkings during my time.

Another one is “Paano,” with its catchy opening: Paano mo malalaman itong pag-ibig ko sa’yo, paano mo mararamdaman ang tibok ng puso ko. I had a secret crush—okay, it’s love at first sight—on a female boarder, and I couldn’t muster the nerve to tell her how I felt. She had one problematic relationship while I had a risky long-distance affair. But we remained very close friends, and every time I would hear this song, I wished I was singing it for her until the last line: ‘Wag ka nang mangangamba, pag-ibig ko’y ikaw, wala nang iba. But the naughty guys would rather intone the line to tease some pretty boarders, or to court them in jest.

“Kabilugan ng Buwan” is another memorable tune. The same boys would sing “Kapanahunan na naman ng paglalambingan...,” to josh a pair, a male and a female, visitors or boarders, caught in some moonlit nights chatting under the santol tree in front of the house. It was any pair’s bad luck to have pestering members of the male tribe in the boarding house whose sole weapon to ruin (or encourage) a diskarte, was a set of cheesy lines from APO.

There is also a serious theme song for everyone. “Awit ng Barkada” was then a good piece for guitar and beer sessions with the naughty boys. With some sort of a samahan in the boarding house, we can easily relate with the lyrics of the song. Boarders would leave the boarding house as a school year ended, but some would take their place for another set of barkadahan.

And the best thing about each APO song is its ability to transcend and connect one generation to the other. It’s no wonder then that when some of their popular songs were revived by today’s popular bands, they become instant hits even to the younger ones.

Take my 10-year-old son, for instance. He really likes Sugarfree’s “Batang-Bata Ka Pa” and Kamikazee’s “Doobidoo,” both from APO’s tribute album, and he can sing these and other songs in the album with gusto. In due time, I’m sure, these songs would also dwell in his own memory box. And I’d be the one to blame because he and his younger brother were around when for a time, I played the songs from the album almost every day in my playlist.