Remembering A Friend On Christmas

Checking on my Facebook account earlier today, I saw a post about Jay Lorenzo’s last forum comment in a website dedicated to Philippine mountaineering. And I just felt I wanted to reflect on this and share it with you in the light of the coming Holiday Season.

Jay was a classmate of mine back in high school. Aside from the fact that his family name was Lorenzo, and mine was Martinez, which meant that, alphabetically-arranged, we were just a few seats apart in class most of the time, I did not really know him that well. But being classmates with him for a good number of years certainly welded a bond of brotherhood which usually remained unspoken especially for an all-boys class like ours.

Fastforward to our 20th year reunion for our high school batch last year, 2008. After 20 long years, we had planned to make the event a big one as a kick off for our 5-year preparation for our Silver Jubilee which will fatefully coincide with our Alma Mater’s Centennial Celebration on 2013, the grandest of celebrations.

Being part of the core group which organized that particular reunion, we had to make sure that attendance to the said event would be as comprehensive as possible. Anyone we could access to would be contacted – whether it be thru email, cellphone, landline, pasabi sa kamag-anak or kapitbahay, or even a personal visit. It was usually a combination of the above. And it was the only way that we could get in touch with long-lost classmates - those classmates we haven’t really gotten In touch with since we graduated from high school.

And in my case, Jay belonged to that “long-lost” group. I think that the last time I saw Jay was way back in high school. It was not even on Graduation Day as Jay chose to transfer schools in the middle of high school so he didn’t get the chance to graduate with us.

So, on reunion day, I got reconnected with Jay. It was not really that unlikely even if, as I said, Jay and I weren’t really that close back in high school. Jay has remained to be the friendly and amiable person that he was way back then. He was the walang-masamang-tinapay kind of guy. It was quite easy to approach him and exchange stories with him.

I learned quite a few things about his life after high school. Most notable was that he worked with PAL, he loved mountaineering, and he also had a passion for photography as evidenced by the camera he brought to shoot remembrances of that particular reunion. Both Jay and I actually became the unofficial photographers of the said event. We even made a face-off while shooting each other’s photos since photographers like us are the least photographed subjects in events like those. But in such a short amount of time, I came under the impression that Jay lived life to the fullest. The hobbies and activities he pursued were what he really wanted. And we were both happy that we had that common interest in photography – something we had not discovered yet when we were in high school.

So when the news of his tragic death due to a motorcycle accident last June 12, 2009 reached us, it came as an unbelievable shock.

Upon going to his wake, we met his family, friends and colleagues. And right there and then, we knew that this man was well-loved and respected. Friends from his mountaineering club were there with shirts printed with the message bidding Jay farewell on his final climb. And until now, months after he passed away, stories and fond memories of how he touched lives continue to get posted on the internet.

So you may ask, what does this have to do with Christmas?

Everything about Jay’s life and death has something to do about Christmas.

In this season where most of us would be attending parties and reunions, reconnect with the people who have touched your lives. There doesn’t have to be mushy moments when we reunite with people we once built memories with. But a simple update on what has been happening to each other’s lives is a good way to rekindle the bond that might have gotten blurred by time.

It is not only with how you view your relationship with these people. But conversely, it is also how these people around you would view their relationship with you. As with my dear friend Jay, I saw many things in him which somehow made me reflect on the things we value in life.

We always say that we should live life to the fullest. But really, how much to the fullest extent of living are we truly being alive? Pursue your goals and dreams. It is never too late to start on a new dream. You are never too old to take on a new hobby. Take what life offers you. It is never too late to do what you have always dreamed of when you were a kid. It is never too late to realize that making tons of money will not bring you the fulfillment you have always wanted. The mountains that Jay climbed may be metaphors for the goals you want to conquer. Chase your life’s passions. It is with these passions that we feel truly alive. People always say that life is short. But really, how short is short?

This Christmas, let each of our lives be our gift to one another. In the same way that Christ offered His own life for us, let us offer our own lives to one another, even to our very own selves. Let us be inspirations to one another and help each other live our lives to the fullest. Let us not waste the gift of life our Creator gave us. Share what you can share for there is enough for everyone. Material things are just there to be instruments for us to show that humans can care. And when other people seem to have been jaded by the harsh realities of the world, let them know that there are still people who still care. Dare to make a difference.

Jay has already completed his climb in the mountains of this world. Our turn is not yet over. At the end of our journey, all of us would meet there at the top. And when that time comes, it would be a great realization that we have helped each other along the way.

Merry Christmas, everyone! And to my dear friend, Jay, Merry Christmas to you, too. See you at the top. Just not too soon, I hope. =)

I Survived Ondoy

Hi everyone!

First of all, thanks for all the prayers and support that you have given to all the victims of Ondoy. Although I have been in contact with a few batchmates thru text, this is the first time that I have read all the emails since the flood. Our landline and internet have just been restored today.

As I have told Joey, no need to worry about me. Aside from experiencing my very first flood at home, and the various damages in appliances, furniture and electronic equipment, I am very much alive. And that is what matters most.

If you are interested to read my blow-by-blow account of my personal experience during the Ondoy Floods, I have written quite a lengthy piece here: http://isurvivedondoy.wordpress.com. I reiterate that it is quite a lengthy piece that I wrote during breaks of our clean-up operations. So you may need to allot some time to be able to read the whole of it, hehehe. I also wrote it for myself in case I would want to revisit that fateful experience and remember the lessons and realization it brought to me.

Again, thanks for the concern, prayers and support. I am truly glad that I am a part of this brotherhood.

Long live K88!

Ravalos Food and Music

As I open the door to the air-conditioned bar, I see Jay sitting by the table in the middle with his Mom.

“Good afternoon po,” I smiled at his Mom while I shook Jay’s hand.

Jay introduces me to her mom to which she replies, “Oo, naaalala ko palagi siya sa atin nung reunion ninyo.” And I thought my usual bashful self was stealthy enough for parents not to notice me in gatherings of a rowdy bunch like our batch’s.

It’s the blessing of Ravalos Food and Music, Jay’s latest business venture and, as I would find out a bit later, a dream-come-true for this budding entrepreneur.

Jay and I sit by the table near the entrance door. I was purposely early since I told Jay that I also had to leave early ‘coz I had another commitment later that night. And for the first time, I think, someone has beaten out the dynamic duo of Bong Estrada and Cocoy Del Prado for the Early Bird title of coming to Ravalos.

“Naglagay ka na rin pala ng LCD TV,” I notice as it is the most visible addition to the bar’s interior from the last time we hang out there.

Jay shares his thoughts on how he envisions the bar to feel like – a sports and music resto-bar seamlessly fused into one. There’s the billiard table in the middle that was installed a week earlier which the Rigmarolers got to “baptize” with their friendly nine-ball matches after their opening day games at the KBBL. The drum set and guitars have already been set by the stage, just waiting for the band which would provide rocking music on weekends. And now, another addition which I initially failed to notice was a black piano by the corner to provide acoustic music on some nights. To spice up the interiors of the place, Jay displays his electric guitar collection, which numbers to around a dozen, by the wall greeting one’s entry, accentuating the party atmosphere of the place. Then, as I mentioned earlier, there’s the LCD TV on which I hope to watch some Manny Pacquiao fights or some NBA play-off games very soon – some suggestions to which Jay was passionately receptive to. He really wants this bar to be the ultimate hang out place.

But right now, there is Santana exhibiting his guitar-playing wizardry on DVD being played on the LCD screen. Min (Jay’s sister and the other half of Jaymin Breadhouse, for those who do not know her yet) arrives with a glass of blue drink that she invites us to take a sip of. Not that I didn’t trust her, but I am usually wary of alcoholic beverages with such funky colors. They seem so inviting to the taste as their appearance looks to seduce you like a pretty girl in a pastel-colored skimpy dress, only to knock you out of your wits once you taste its concealed alcoholic kick when you drink it straight up.

I was more interested with the food. The booze can come later anyway. This is a blessing after all. And with the reputation of the Ravalos, not only in good food (Jaymin’s uberly famous Garlic Bread is a testament in itself), but also with hosting parties such as our reunion, I knew we were in for a treat. (I would have my chances to taste the different items on their menu in the days to come, but for now I have only tried their beef tapa and it is definitely recommended for the discriminating taste.)

Jay’s mom, whom I had the pleasure of talking with later that night, is truly glad with the recent turn of events in Jay’s social life. With Jay having been re-acquainted with some long-lost batchmates, and volunteering to host the latest reunion of the batch last February, Jay’s mom feels glad that he has reconnected with a good set of friends who would not lead him astray. Of course, I tried to conceal my comments and contrasting reaction. But given that I was talking with a truly loving mom, I just let it be. Somehow, some of us already feel like being adopted children to the Ravalo extended family (what with the weekly sessions we spend at Jay’s place). Some of us even jokingly tell each other that we are somehow expecting Jay’s mom to finally remind us one day pretty soon that we should remember that we should also go home and spend time with our respective families. But at Ravalos, we are family.

Looking back at our student years in Kumbento, it isn’t really surprising that Jay decided to put up this venture. Music has always been in his blood. He wasn’t the Freddie Aguilar of our batch for nothing. Memories of old singing contests dating back to our grade school days when Jay would usually be pitted against the likes of Bong Estrada and Eric Aprecio come flooding back to our minds. And do you still remember that it was Jay, together with his best buddy in high school, John Andrew De Guzman, who composed our Graduation Song? And unknown to many, it was also music that Jay turned onto during the dark moments of his life. Music became his outlet, his refuge, his creative channel to be able to get back on the right track. And now, Ravalos Food and Music becomes his way of paying back to music which hasn’t really left him all his life. It is a dream-come-true for him. What could be better, right? A business venture about something that is really closest to your heart.

It is good, clean fun that Jay stresses he wants to promote at Ravalos Food and Music. And I couldn’t agree with him more. The previous tenant of the building (which Jay also owns, by the way) has made the place known for a different type of bar – the type where GRO’s serve men and sing videoke with them. Of course, we wouldn’t be familiar with such places that are the breeding grounds for immorality, would we? And Jay would definitely want Ravalos to erase that image of the place and replace it with a new concept of a hang out. Still fun, but the clean, wholesome, and even family-type of fun. And anyone who knows Jay quite personally wouldn’t be surprised with his thrust towards wholesome, family fun. He has been a very active member of the Marriage Encounter community for quite some time now. And he is just living out what he believes in.

So, whether it is music that you are into, or you just want to have a taste of good food and relaxing ambiance, or you just wanna hang out and play a game of nine-balls with your buddies, Ravalos Food and Music is the place for you. Food and drinks are great and are available at very affordable prices. And the place is very accessible for most of us who just live in Pasig.

Come to Ravalos Food and Music where we are family.

Now, who says being wholesome cannot be fun?

A Class Section By Any Other Name

by Gary C. Devilles

To dismantle the idea of a pilot section is to dismantle elitism and elitism is part of the bigger problem of factionalism and fascism. Philosopher Hannah Arendt says that it is wrong to accuse only Nazis of fascism since in truth, fascism exists in varying degrees and contexts. In my case, my experience of elitism happened in schools. When I transferred to a private school, I knew already its implication. Some of my friends even construed it as a form of social mobility, since the divide between private and public school is symptomatic of class conflicts. It is not that in public school elitism does not exist. In Bagong Ilog Elementary School, we were already told that we belong to a “pilot” section, honors class, special education, etc. Pilot section is already a form of dividing between “us” and “them”. So when I went to PCC, I knew somehow that my education comes with a price tag or a label. I may not exactly be aware of the political economy of our education but I was being indoctrinated to this ideology of “brand-consciousness,” in so far as our society labels, categorizes, or polarizes us into black and white, public or private, elite or hoi polloi.

The branding does not stop in the type of schools, once admitted to PCC, I realized that branding goes all the way to sections, cultures, and codes. In public schools, sections are numbered but in PCC there were names, like Lakandula, Soliman, Humabon, Sumakwel, Dumangsil, Sikatuna, Lapu lapu and Kalantiaw, all names of pre-colonial heroes, except that I only recognized Lapu lapu of course (It was only when I was teaching history in Ateneo that I learned some of these heroes were actually fakes or fictive but back then no one cared or bothered to know these names, for they are after all just names). In grade 6 we would have pre-colonial titles of nobility like Gat, Lakan, Rajah, Hari, Hadji, Sultan, and Datu. It’s a good thing this Filipinization stopped in grade school and when we entered high school our sections were more cosmopolitan like Cardinal, Robin, Eagle, Oriole, Hawk, Lark and Falcon (For the life of me, I couldn’t imagine having the Filipino equivalents like Maya, Kuwago, Pato, Langay-langayan, Kulasisi, Sabukot, Manok, Uwak, Tagak, and Banoy). Sophomores were names of planets like Jupiter and Saturn, juniors were names of scientists like Galileo and Copernicus, and seniors back to epic heroes like Lam-Ang and Bantugen. In high school the practice was that we would carry our section until we graduate but do we ever stopped that these names mean nothing other than the arbitrary signifiers to meaningless signified? How does one essentially see through a Lark or Falcon, Jupiter or Mars, Ibalon or Lam Ang?

Branding extends to our daily lives with the food we eat, the clothes we wear, and even the things we use. Hotdog is Swift or Purefoods. Before Jollibee or McDonalds, we had Kramburger or Jester. The well-to-do classmates dine in Shakeys from time to time but for the rest we usually settled for turu-turo. In cafeteria, we have Slush Puppies drink but I was more loyal to Aling Patring’s Iskrambol. Ice Cream would be Magnolia or Presto. Gums would be Bazooka Joe or Tarzan. Soft drinks would be Pepsi or Coke. For notebooks and bond paper we have Sakura or Cattleya, Steadler or Bensia for pencils and erasers, Bic or Scribbler for pens. For shoes the fashion was Haruta, an imitation of Bass, but others would wear Bandolino and Greg. The sneakers of my classmates would be Tretorn, Standsmith, or Chuck Taylor but mine was Marlboro (which unfortunately until now I’m trying to figure out how in the world a shoe got its name from a cigarette brand). Underwear of course would be Hanes but mine was YC (Remember their famous jingle ad that goes like “YC Bikini Brief, YC Bikini Brief for a man who packs a wallop?). These brands definitely mediate our choices but no one at that time tried to see if these choices are really indicative of freedom or are we being constrained more by these limited choices. Aren’t all these just pomp and circumstance, pageantry, and advertising? How much of the brand can really hold on to its essential attributes? Today these brands are quickly replaceable and dispensable. Nobody remembers Olympia typewriter or Pocketbell anymore and I wonder how many artifacts or objects will be obsolete in the near future. I tell my students that they maybe proud to be Ateneans but in the final analysis, isn’t Ateneo’s rank 375 out of 500 universities all over the world? How proud can you get with that picture? Sad that education nowadays is very much extended marketing.

Sections or brand names reveal how commodified our culture is. If we could only dismantle brand consciousness the way Germans broke the wall that divide them before, then perhaps things would be easier as admitting that a rose by any other name is still a rose. But the enigma of brand is part of a long history of our subjection for which power is intrinsically linked. Right now we address ourselves as one nation or one people, but the truth is our geographical condition makes it difficult to recognize similarities and affinities and we become more enamored by our differences. Dismantling brand consciousness is an enormous task of self-reflexivity and critical discernment. Hence, transcending sections pilot or otherwise becomes a political will and collective action. This is not a task for “pilot section” alone, everyone as Joey said should move beyond the comfort zones and familiar circles. But if we can achieve it in our batch then there is no need to be surprised if we could do it in the grand scheme of things in the future. The reunion is definitely a good start although we have to admit that much work is still to be done if we are to dream big and extend our communities imagined or real. This country deserves more from the fascistic tendencies of our government officials. For the meantime, a drink is always a good to start things up, have fun and be reflective. The ancient Greeks call such gathering as symposium. They drink and philosophize. We may not be Greeks or Germans, but hey, San Miguel or Carlsberg isn’t that bad either. Cheers to us all!

Time to crush the term PILOT like the Berlin Wall

by Joey Manalad
Kumbento88 President

pi•lot [pahy-luh t]
–adjective
serving as an experimental or trial undertaking prior to full-scale operation or use: a pilot project

Noong grade 3 ako, ang sabi nung teacher ko ay pagbutihin daw namin kung sakaling mailagay kami sa pilot sa susunod na taon. Hindi ko naman naintindihan kung ano ang ibig niyang sabihin sa salitang pilot. The following year, I learned from my other classmates that it was the same message given to them by their grade 3 teachers. Noon ko lang nalaman na pilot na pala yung section na ‘yon, and our teacher, Ms. Cruz officially informed us that Sapphire was THE pilot section.

Honestly, I never felt the difference from the grade 3 class to this new one in grade 4. If not for the official announcement by the class adviser, I really wouldn’t know the difference. Ganun din naman ang atmosphere – maingay, makukulit ang kaklase, may iba’t-ibang subjects, may iba’t-ibang teachers, pareho lang basically. Siguro ang medyo pinagkaiba lang ay mas malakas ang boses nung nagre-recite kapag may itinanong yung teacher. Yung tipo bang huling sagot na niya kaya todo-bigay na ang pagsagot sa isang napaka-simpleng tanong ng teacher.

Over the years, unti-unting na-establish na kapag pilot pala, this is supposed to be the “cream of the crop” and I suppose, students from the other sections somewhat look up, if not envy our class. Or worse, they probably thought of ganging up on us once in a while. The sharp stares we get along the Carlos Building corridors, the ugly side remarks we hear in the canteen during recess time, are just some few things that made me uncomfortable being in the pilot class. Unti-unti ko nang nararamdaman na may kakaiba silang nakikita sa pilot. Hey, wala namang ganyanan. Sa tingin ko, pare-pareho lang tayo ng pinagdaanan. I should know, I was one of the pranksters of the pilot class. Ang kulit ninyo sa section niyo ang siyang kulit din namin dun sa loob ng pilot class namin. Walang pagkakaiba. We answer the same periodical exam questions inasmuch as we buy the same yema from Mrs. Chavez. I don’t think na mas sinasarapan ni Mrs. Chavez ang yema niya dahil ibebenta niya ito sa pilot class. And I also don’t think papatulan namin ang yema niya kung mas mahal niyang ibebenta ang mga ito sa amin dahil taga pilot kami. Talagang pareho lang.

Another year passed and I was with Grade 5 - Lapu-lapu, then Grade 6 – Sultan. Noong high school, I was with 1st Year Cardinal, then 2nd Year Cardinal. As you and I already know by this time, 3rd Year saw the disbanding of the original pilot. Robin became the pilot class while Cardinal became one of the regular sections. Yung detalye nitong kuwentong ito ay isinulat na ni Gary Devilles , paki-balikan na lang.

One good thing that came about with this disbanding of the original pilot was the warming up of poles for those from the other classes who finally met and made good friends with people who used to stay in their comfort zone in the pilot class. Isa na ako doon. At least kahit papaano, naipakita ko na wala namang kakaiba sa amin. Pareho lang. “Burog” din ang tawag namin kay Mr. Roberto, “Bitoy” kay Saguisag, “Superman” si Mr. Soriano. Of course we give high regards to the original owner of the moniker “noo”, no less than our dear high school principal, Mr. Antonio B. Cruz. Sino ba ang hindi nakurot ni Lelith Adriano? Pero siguro yung sakit ng kurot ni Lelith ay depende na lang kung gaano kalaki ang atraso mo sa kanya, or kung gaano ka niya ka-crush. Peace Lelith!!! Pero definitely, walang pilot-pilot dito. At ika nga ni Arnold, we buy the same 2-pc. Barbeque with rice sa canteen and dip the same choco flavorings sa ice cream ni Mang Alex. Talagang pareho lang.

Fast forward circa 2000. Whenever we have K88 gatherings, whether big or small, di pa rin naaalis ang issue ng pilot at non-pilot. Other people are still aloof blending with the “taga-pilot”. Yun bang tipong parang bakang manunuwag or kabayong maninipa. Walang ganon sa batch natin kaya’t iwaksi na natin ito sa isipan natin. Our recent success in the 1st Kumbento Boys Basketball League is one tangible proof that barriers have finally been removed. Our players were in various shapes and sizes and yes, came from a good mix of our various sections from High School - - some came from Hawk, Oriole, Robin, Lark, Eagle, and Cardinal. During our reunion last Saturday, ninety-nine K88 warm bodies came up and were proudly counted during the big event. Masaya ang lahat, kitang kita naman sa mga uploaded pictures, hindi ba? Unfortunately, 20 long years after we moved on, mayroon pa ring nagbibigay ng pilot label. Wala na nga lang sigurong sharp stares and I am sure the remark was done in a jesting context. But please let us put a closure to this. Wala nang pilot at non-pilot. We should act and move as one, as Kumbento ’88. Huwag na nating lagyan nang ganitong label ang samahan natin. Malalim na ang pundasyon nito at sa tingin ko ay hindi na ito matitibag nang kung anumang pagsubok.

Just to share to you one story from Mrs. Bulangit that I really paid attention to in High School was the story of the Berlin Wall - - the barrier that separated the West Berlin from East Berlin for 28 long years from 1961 until its demolition in 1989. As she discussed in class in 1988, the Berlin Wall was still up.

If I still remember right, West Germany developed into a western capitalist country while East Germany established an authoritarian government. Despite its progress, the East still looked up to the West as it gained political freedom. The Berlin Wall served as a barrier to prevent the Easterners to cross the border and reunite with the Westerners. The fall of the Berlin wall paved the way for the German reunification.

Let us learn to appreciate history and apply its good lessons. It is time to crush the term PILOT like the Berlin Wall and let the Easterners in us join the Westerners of the batch in whatever context you may wish to put it. Let us move on as one and rigmarole if you want; just never add another brand to the only brand we will forever know– THE Kumbento ’88.

1000 beats per minute

A Balikbayan's reunion point of view

By B Espiritu

As I’m writing this, I’m sitting in front of my computer in San Francisco, savoring what’s left of my last day off from work, after a long plane ride back from Pasig City. Indeed, the past few days have been filled with so much excitement among the Kumbento 88 members. The reunion went by so fast I find it hard to express in detail what had happened during that time, but I’ll try to recount a few of the moments I could recall.

Since our plan to attend the 20th year reunion was mostly unannounced, Manny Santana suggested that one of us get out of the car first, and since we had thought there was a slight “leak” in his whereabouts more than my whereabouts (Gary Devilles and Boyet Valencia saw us at Serendra the day before), he came out and walked towards Jay Ravalo’s place – and sure enough a lot of people were surprised to see him. I waited a few minutes, being the drama queen that I could be at times. 1000 beats per minute – that was how much I felt my heart was pounding as I finally came out of the car and walked on. I could feel a shiver all over my body as I walked – that was the last thing I could remember before reaching the front gate of Jay Ravalo’s place.

What had gone through my mind prior to going to the reunion had vanished. I was afraid of not knowing anyone anymore and though there were a few faces I couldn’t recognize at first, somehow I was reminded of who they are. I remember seeing Antonio Lara, Marvin Malonzo, Erick Cruz, and Regan Fronda (who I had to admit I didn’t recognize at first). I was also afraid of not being recognized, but that proved to be wrong since I felt like I had a warm reception (fit for a king!) even before reaching the front gate. I even got hugs from the two presidents – of our batch (Joey Manalad) and of the 20th year homecoming (Jeff Sulit).

My good old friend adrenaline had gotten the most of me throughout the afternoon and evening. I wouldn’t normally get up and sing on stage – but I did. When I heard “Don’t Dream It’s Over” and realized it didn’t have the vocals, I just couldn’t contain myself and had to seize the opportunity. After all, Father Erick did say that we should make the most of our lives, and I didn’t want to wait for my turn to sing anymore. I knew at times I was out of tune and my voice was scratchy since I’ve been battling a cold, but I think the risk was worth it! Being able to sing with a live band had also been a dream of mine, and I think Jay Ravalo, Gilbert Gatchalian, and Noel Acosta made that dream a reality, even for just a few hours – thanks guys!

Throughout the night of music, drinking, and chatting, I think I found myself mostly relaxed, but filled with happiness and excitement that I couldn’t explain. I felt like I reunited with a long, lost family. It was a night when I felt my “what if’s” have been answered (there’s too many to mention). I also felt that I had put any remaining ill-feelings towards people aside and at least just have fun. I felt a sense of closure for the burden that I felt I’ve been carrying for the last twenty years, and now think of it as what makes life worth living. The reunion that I thought I would dread going to has suddenly turned out to be one I would look forward to and smile about when I think about.

As I’m writing this, the only thing I dread is the fact that tomorrow I’m back to work and that the weather forecast calls for occasional rain. But thinking of the past few days I’ve spent with all of my high school buddies still makes me smile and hope – it’s going to be a sunny day anyway.

Turning 20

Do you remember when you were 20? Maybe you were in your last year in college and thinking of what the future holds for you. And it was during these times when you probably started to get the realization that pretty soon you would be fully responsible for how your life shapes up.

For us as a batch, how will our group's life shape up as we enter our twentieth year?

I remember an entry I made in my now-defunct blog about organizations and their survival. I was ranting about how the youth of today here in our village seems to be so apathetic with regard to our community-based youth club. It was so unlike during our time when we, both officers and members, would actively participate in projects for the betterment of our community.

My readers posted their reactions. And one comment really made me think. The reader suggested that maybe the reason why organizations like ours are bound to die a natural death is because its direction and vision aren't clear to its officers and members.

Sure, we elect new officers year in and year out. And as we say when we elect new officers, we pass on the baton. Now, passing on the baton, as I realize, isn't only about passing on the leadership. It doesn't only mean that we pass on the responsibility to lead the group. But more so deeply, it means passing on the ideals and vision that the group stands for. It is the vision which keeps any organization truly alive. It is only when we ensure the collective commitment of the individuals for what the group stands for can we not fear that the group would die a natural death.

Now, going back to our case before I digress any further. Sure, no one can question our batch's solidity. Talk about networking capability and it is actually quite impressive that we can readily call a gathering where around 30-50 people will easily show up. And that can be done even with only a few days' preparation at that.

And we have also proven that once we set our minds towards one common goal, we can defy all odds and succeed in our undertakings. Just ask the batch whom we stole the first KBBL Championship from about how potent our batch is and you will realize how powerful our group can be if we just will it to be.

But life isn't all about inuman and basketball. It goes beyond the rigmaroling and the arguments we raise in our yahoogroup. It simply doesn't start and end with the kumustahan we make when we see each other after long periods of time. Our relationships do not end with the last bottle of beer we drink everytime we celebrate. Our association do not run on the internet connection we rely on to send and receive those emails we throw back and forth. This blogsite wasn’t created just to be a glamorized bulletin board of our organization. And I certainly hate to think that our only main purpose is to stick together long enough to make it to the Centennial Celebration of PCC five years from now.

Then what?

Don’t get me wrong. I am not criticizing this group for the shallowness of its being or its members for their lack of commitment. On the contrary, to this group belongs some of the most passionately involved and visionary people I personally know and admire. I am just reminding everyone about things which can easily be lost in time and passivity. I love this group. I love this group so much that I don't want to see it die a natural death nor run aimlessly like a headless chicken. The fragility of the group lies within us - about what we expect from each other, and about what we expect our group should do as a whole. Its reason for being lies in the very core of its existence.

For some of us who have been regularly meeting up and talking about the projects that we have to focus on, we know we are in the right direction. And I am just raising this for the benefit of those who have not been fortunate enough to be with us personally during our gatherings, or those who have not been updated with the recent developments in our group’s endeavours. Or maybe you are well-informed about these things but choose to stay in the sidelines thinking that your participation isn’t that much needed. I hope each one of us realizes that we are part of a group which can be further harnessed for its full potential. And that includes the involvement of each one of us.

Involvement is the keyword. And involvement is an action word.

And so, as we enter our twentieth year, I think it is imperative for us to do some collective examination of ourselves. Here is a question which, philosophical as it may seem, we need to face more regularly if we hope to continue on moving forward for the next 20 years and more.

Kumbento88, what do we stand for?

Most likely, you would say brotherhood.

I agree.

And I say let’s prove to one another that we are brothers – in the truest sense of the word.

Brothers in Christ.

Brothers, not only during times of celebrations. But more so, brothers willing to help out each other in times of need. Brothers willing to be men for others as instilled to us by our beloved Kumbento.

Countdown to the 20th Year Celebration!!!

It's been almost twenty years since the Kumbento Boys Batch '88 sang "Alma Mater" to the top of their lungs and marched in the middle of the PCC Quadrangle as their relatives and the faculty looked on with tears of joy and pride as another successful batch of PCCians graduate from High School. Following the culmination of High School we went our separate ways with our different aspirations in mind. Most of us had been accepted to well-known universities such as Ateneo de Manila University, De LaSalle University, University of the Philippines, and University of Santo Tomas, and had prepared for their next scholastic journey into college. Some had made plans to migrate with family members outside of the country. Still others had decided not to pursue college degrees, start families of their own, search for jobs that suit their abilities and fancies, or start their own businesses.

After that fateful day of 1988 when we all graduated, most of us managed to keep in touch, through snail mail, as it is now fondly called, and through phone conversations for faster communication. We would hear news of old classmates topping the national exams for accountants and nurses, garnering prestigious awards for the arts and sciences, winning seats in their local governments, and migrating to various parts of the globe along with their significant loved ones and children. We received news about the few who have passed away – Dante Bartocillo, Genesis Cruz, Edmund Faustino, Trazy Labuguen, Bonifacio Sumbilla III, and Noel Villanueva will remain in our hearts and minds. The birth of the Internet and expansion of information technology further hastened our communication with each other. What seemed like months of waiting by the mailbox for a letter is now equivalent to seconds when it comes to emails ranging from simple greetings like "musta na pare?" to long-winded ones that rival that of the "Noli Me Tangere." We also founded our very own yahoo e-group for our batch, and later our own batch website, where we could share news and even pictures to keep everyone updated with our appearances. Whatever news it was, it brought joy to the lonely, response from the silent, and information to the unaware.

As we approach our twentieth year anniversary, all of us look back to the past, from the time when we thought the end of High School also meant the end of the world for each one of us, the time when we realized there are more worlds to navigate after High School, looking now at the present and seeing what we have done in the past had become of us, to looking at the unpredictable future ahead of us. We stand as united as ever, though miles apart. Some of us now call other nations home - Australia, Canada, Malaysia, Saudi Arabia, Singapore, the United Arab Emirates, the United Kingdom, and the United States of America - yet we still maintain the same closeness as if we were still in High School. Twenty years ago, we started a new journey outside of High School, with various ambitions and plans. Today, our past ambitions and plans have gotten us to where we are today – accountants, architects, businessmen, doctors, engineers, family men, politicians, professors, systems administrators, nurses, policemen, and the list goes on. What we as a batch and as individuals have travailed for is reason enough for us to gather and celebrate twenty wonderful years and plan towards our future anniversaries.

K88: Rigmaroling through the years, across the world!

By B Espiritu